I have to say that lately I've found myself in a bit of a funk when it comes to shooters. It's almost like the romance has gone from the relationship, the love that we once felt for one another turning stale. Gone is the whimsy of the 90's and early 2000's, with their Quakes and their Red Factions, their Dooms and unending streams of World War 2 imitators. Remember when dogs could drive back in the original Medal of Honour? Now that was gaming. Sadly however, we now live in an age of Kane and Lynch, Gears of War and loathe most of all, Call of Duty. Don't get me wrong, these are all very popular franchises but between the cover mechanics and blatant money grabbing it's hard to feel anything but disappointed in the games industry. They're the abusive spouse, putting us down and taking our money, while we continue to love them despite the misgivings in our gut. So when I picked up Transformers: War for Cybertron at the poultry price of £3.75, I can't say I was expecting all that much. Michael Bay had seen to that. But now it's ten hours of play later and I have to say, well done Half Moon Studios.
Megatron, "Death to the Autobots!"
In a wise turn they ignored the diabolical offerings of the silver screen and stuck to the cartoon of my youth. A semi ridiculous, over the top story about transforming robots battling across the stars. On one side, lead by the heroic Optimus Prime stands the Autobots, the other, Megatron's evil Decepticons. They have changed a few things here and there, for instance Megatron no longer turns into a pistol, as well, it was kind of stupid to begin with. But at it's heart, War for Cybertron stays faithful, expanding the universe and giving us a look into the history of the conflict that started it all. Ever wondered how Starscream betrayed the Autobots, or Optimus succeeded to the rank of Prime? It's really a lot of fun and quite the nostalgia trip. I mean sure, the dialogue is kind of corny and the story a little 2 dimensional, but that's what Transformers is all about. It's not masterpiece theatre but nor is it meant to be.
Cybertronian Optimus
Beyond the simple thrill of playing as my childhood favourites each of the Autobots and Decepticons have been brought to life with great detail. The fluid movements between transformations mirroring their cartoon counterparts to a tee. There really is nothing like jumping off a platform only to turn mid air into a deadly fighter jet. It can take some getting used to, when and where to switch between vehicle and robot, but once you have it down the sparks sure do fly. Also it must be noted that as this is pre earth, or G1 depending how in the know you are, the models aren't identical to those found in the series, but they retain enough of their personality as to be instantly recognisable. It obviously wouldn't have made sense to have Optimus rolling around Cybertron as a Kenworth truck. Not that it wouldn't have been entertaining to see.
The game is divided along the faction lines, with half the game dedicated to the Decepticons and the other, the Autobots. This may seem a little off putting, that to play the story in order you have to go through one campaign first, but with the option to choose which you play and the story being fairly straightforward nothing is really lost, there are no spoilers to ruin the ride. Simply put, Megatron wants a weapon, he gets the weapon and then you have to fight Megatron to stop him destroying Cybertron with the weapon. Arguably the most succinct synopsis of a game ever written. Just the simple nature of the story is a breath of fresh air, with no ham handed attempts at drama making their way into the script and stealing focus from the action.
Do you like my gun? I vandalised it myself.
On a graphical front the game gives a solid performance that while not stunning, doesn't disappoint either. This can be put down to the games multiple ports, so if you feel like blaming anyone for it's lack of Crysis beauty, take it up with the console jockeys. Cybertron comes alive as the Transformers home world, a foreign construct of steel and rivets that manages to possess an organic quality at the same time. It has been criticised for lacking an expansive, Dulux colour pad design scheme, but I feel that in this instance it can be forgiven. There are only so many shades of grey after all, but with some interesting level design and plenty of action you'll barely notice. You'll be far too busy slaughtering your way through your robotic foes, whoever they may be. And I have to say, that while the selection of weapons to hand aren't mind blowing, they do have that oompf factor required to really get stuck in. From oversized EMP Shotguns to Neutron Blasters there's enough to keep you killing with glee for many an encounter. You can even rip mounted turrets from the ground and heft them around 80's action hero style, I wet myself a little at that. The melee component is boiled down to whacking whatever gets in your way with, for example, a bloody great axe, depending on who you are playing as. But I felt it's relative simplicity was and is compensated for by the myriad of special abilities you can throw out to thwart your opponents. My personal favourite being the energy shield deployable by Warpath, which is extremely handy in a firefight where you're taking a pounding.
So to conclude, Transformers: War for Cybertron satisfies an itch for no holds barred, shooty fun. It doesn't demand a great deal in return, just a steady trigger finger and an appreciation for robot on robot violence. The fact that it fills in some gaps in the Transformers law is a gift to fans of the series, but it doesn't require any foreknowledge on the players part to enjoy. The camp, over the top bad guys and overpowered weapons see to that. It is, therefore, everything it says on the tin and well worth a look, if only to escape the repetitiveness of modern shooters and their equally meaningless characterisations. Autobots, roll out!
I'm an avid believer in giving T.V shows second chances. It's not that I'm particularly charitable, I just don't like the idea of missing something good based on a less than stellar opening. I did it with Ashes to Ashes, I did it with Torchwood and I even did it with Battlestar Galactica. Sometimes being persistent can really pay off, with Commander Adama now ranking as one of my all time favourite T.V characters. But right from the start I've felt that there is something off about Falling Skies, that it's entire tone is just plain wrong. The answer to this, I thought, lay in a weak setup at the beginning of the series and the truly dire trumpet wailing soundtrack. A bike arrives, the trumpets wail. A main character is in peril, the trumpets wail. An alien moons Noah Wyle and still, the sodding trumpets wail! It completely flattens any sense of drama the show has, never letting it take off. Music is meant to convey to us what is happening on the screen, it foreshadows, it enunciates. So if you carpet bomb an entire episode with the same desultory tunes, you're either suggesting everything is equally important, or as it actually seems, that everything is as pointless as that which preceded it. Either Spielberg really thinks he's that good, in which case he can kiss my E.T hating ass, or he really has lost his marbles. Maybe one of those stallions from War Horse gave him a sharp kick in the head, as god knows he needs a good excuse at this point? Who knows, maybe he doesn't even watch the damn thing, just rubberstamps it with his prestigious ego.
Aliens have the best killer robots.
Now, where was I? Right, so it's fair to say that I might have become a little obsessed with what could be a single failure in an otherwise fine show. So with that in mind I sat down to watch the season 2 premier, hopeful, my negative opinions dulled by times sweet passage (Read into that what you will). And you know what, for the first two minutes it almost had me. There was shooting galore, enemy Mechs exploding and those ugly, spider Skitter things getting riddled with bullets. But it was like Spielberg couldn't help himself, and soon that nascent score was back tormenting my every waking moment. This was then compounded by another realisation. Something which had managed to slip by my super-sleuth honed eye during the first season. And that's how awful the writing, direction and acting actually is. So one could say I dropped the ball a smidgen on that one, as it really is dire.
Connor Jessup, actor extraordinaire.
The epitome, the focus of all three of these failures can be found in Noah Wyle's son, Ben, played by Connor Jessup. Now, just for those of you who don't know, Ben was captured by the aliens, effectively brainwashed and fixed with something called a Harness. This is some freaky bit of alien technology that runs down your back and plugs into your spine. Having been rescued however, he is left a different person, a shell who retains the strength lent to him by the alien device. So fair enough, he's going to be a bit messed up. Instead however, he comes across as obnoxious and completely devoid of any emotion, something which could be said to be his character but rather feels like just bad acting. Even his body language, having just killed a Skitter with a knife, doesn't fit as surely given how much he hates the aliens this would be the moment to see him exultant. It comes across as exceptionally amateur and a chore to watch. I have no idea how this slipped by the directors notice, but it borders on the absurd when the trumpets start wailing and Ben looks like he's trying to swallow a lemon.
(Sigh) Bring it back.
On the writing front we can see a definite lack of direction from the get go. At the beginning of the first season it's about surviving and finding Ben, which they do in about four episodes. After that however, nothing really seems to happen. They run into some aliens, a couple of bandits, but there's no feeling that there's an over arcing plot. It's much the same problem I had with Stargate Universe. You can't just stick a bunch of people in a desperate situation, have a few crisis here and there and justifiably call it television! I would say it's too episodic, but that's not strictly true either as we are continually reminded that the aliens are the enemy, that they're the friggin centre of the universe every twenty goddamn seconds! And I have to say, I am in no way riffing on episodic T.V shows. I grew up with Star Trek: The Next Generation so I have a fondness for that type of storytelling. No, Falling Skies subscribes to the idea of story arcs while never actually delivering. One has to wonder if the writers were told to coast it due to having the "venerable" Spielberg attached to the project. If they've ever seen A.I, they should be more concerned for their jobs.
Meet the Big Bad.
Now, given all these problems and more, the season 2 premier did have a few things going for it. Firstly, we finally met the head honcho, the alien overlord, the big cheese. He offers Noah Wyle and the human species the opportunity for peace, a safe haven. This Mr Wyle roundly rejects and for the life of me I can't think why. Sure, it'd be humiliating but from what I've seen of the rebels they don't stand a chance anyway. There's a difference between heroism for a cause and committing suicide after all. The aliens make a big deal about how they've never encountered such fierce resistance, but I ain't seeing it. Apart from killing a few Skitters here, a few mechs there, the entire alien occupation seems to be going like clockwork. The rebels really are just an "inconvenience" as the aliens say and Noah probably should have thought things through a little more before jabbing the big boss with a stun stick. That probably pissed him off a little. So in a nutshell it's now up to him to deliver this message to the human race and see who bites, and unless something drastically changes I'd be seriously considering kicking back my heels in that nice little sanctuary. Also the budget seems to have been given an up, the mechs and Skitters making more of an appearance and with more presence. Whether this continues throughout the series we'll have to wait and see, but chances are we might be seeing a little more gun play in the coming episodes.
So we'll see where Falling Skies goes from here. The big problem in my opinion is that the producers won't realise their series is an interesting idea marred by pretty much everything they've done so far. I think attaching Spielberg to the project was a bad move, it's not his kind of deal. This is an ACTION sci-fi show and he simply doesn't have the chops to deliver kick ass fight scenes and an entertaining story line. Instead we end up with this muddled mess, a bit of shooting and a yawn worthy plot. Who knows, maybe it'll get better? But I'd be willing to gamble everything I own that Falling Skies won't be sitting on my shelf in a years time rubbing shoulders with my Galactica box set, I can tell you that much.
We all love anti heroes. It's hard to resist them. They're usually cooler, deadlier and downright more badass than your regular, run of the mill hero and have the odd ability to make us all feel a little edgier. Like that's what we'd be in the face of adversity. James Bourne wielding a pistol like a composite marksman, Riddick as he cleaves his way through yet another unjust bounty hunter (while selectively forgetting why he's being hunted). It all evokes a certain rebellious streak, that although we'd probably not be evil in such a situation, it doesn't mean we couldn't indulge our nastier sides from time to time. It is in this vein that Mr Bowden operates, as he has throughout his Nightlords novels, to bring us a selection of relatable, psychotic Traitor Astartes in Void Stalker.
I think something I've always enjoyed the most about Talos and his company of murderers, psychopaths and general degenerates is the way in which Bowden uses them to play with his readers sympathies. For each moment you see them briefly as less than monsters, when they perform an action that could be described as honourable, it is later stripped away by their depravity and boundless cruelty. It really pushes the envelope of the anti hero archetype, so much so that you are left with a series of horrors punctuated by a moments decency. Bowden makes sure you remember these guys are traitors, there is torture galore here, and yet when they go toe to toe with the Emperor's finest of the Genesis Chapter, boy do you want to see them kill those smug Imperium bastards. It's almost like watching Bowden's three dimensional characters cutting down the less developed creations of the Black Library, and it's exceptionally satisfying.
It's important to consider Void Stalker as part of a larger story, a conclusion to the previous novels of Soul Hunter and Blood Reaver. Does it fulfill what is promised? Is it an epic conclusion? To both of these questions I can answer with a resounding, yes. That isn't to say that the book is perfect, but that it successfully ends the series without dropping at the final hurdle, ala Spider Man. You may have noted that all the examples here so far have been movies, something I felt important to emphasise. Bowden writes in a way that could be easily translated to the big screen, enjoying a far better plethora of action moments, dramatic faceoffs and character developments than was displayed in the near woeful Ultramarines film. Interestingly, the Genesis Chapter is a progenitor of the Ultramarines, so perhaps Void Stalker aided me in working through some deep seated issues?
The story once again revolves around Talos, or the Prophet as he is known and the battle not only with the Imperium, but his brothers and himself. He reaches the climax of his introspection in Void Stalker, his realisations about his Legion and the universe around him. This is intermixed seamlessly with flashbacks to the fall of the Nightlords' last great fortress on the planet of Tsagualsa, to the Progenitors of the hated Ultramarines. Action, character deaths and murderess brutality run throughout the story, with a number of gory scenes bringing home the depravity that even Talos, the main protagonist after all, engages in with relish. It's all quite disturbing for as already discussed, these guys are not your quintessential heroes. While you can understand them you can never really support them. Only enjoy the ride. I have to admit, in the final confrontation I enjoyed each kill inflicted on the Nightlords, while simultaneously egging them on to see their reactions, their insane bravery. They are one hell of a contradiction and a testament to Bowden's ability to weave such an intricate web. Balancing the Nightlords' demented psyche with a great story, while not travelling into the realms of silliness and camp, bad guy overkill. Just thinking about such complications makes me want to peel the skin from some innocent bystander and wear it as a cape. You think I'm sick? You ain't seen nothing yet.
So to conclude, Mr Bowden has executed a fine ending to a top notch series. Sporting Astartes one can relate too, action scenes which are as bloody as they are exciting and a twist ending you don't expect, Void Stalker is the pinnacle of Space Marine writing. What makes this truly remarkable is the fact that the novel focuses on a traitor legion, something you would have thought would make the process more difficult. But as Bowden showed in the absorbing and near irresistible First Heretic he genuinely seems to understand the minds of the fallen, putting him on top of the Black Library pile for me. For many can write a great action scene, but few could truly express what it means to walk in Midnight Clad. I'll be doubtless reading this series for many years to come, and so should you.
Remember how when you were a kid you'd smush ants by the dozen, pull the wings off flies and generally demonstrate sociopath like tendencies which disturbed your parents no end? Well, thankfully the game industry sure does, providing us with a never ending stream of fantastical ways to kill, maim and otherwise destroy our way across a plethora of worlds, time periods and fantastical settings. And arguably the greatest genre for those daemons of the insect world is the RTS, where one can literally play god. Bringing entire continents to heel, raising cities and courting the death of thousands at a whim they really allow us to play with our inner despot. You'll never find Democracy: The Game sitting on your shelf, I can tell you that much (I have recently learned there is a game called Democracy, I stand chastened). Now, Black and White sought to open up the idea of simple god hood, of good and evil. It was all very moral and didn't reward the player all that well if he or she were more devilishly inclined. In Black and White Two the record has been set straight, you can be evil yet still build a beautiful city or be good and indulge in a little murder and pillage. It is an extremely well designed piece of software. That does not mean however, that it is a good game.
Point and click, damn being a soldier is easy.
You see Black and White has always had the habit of promising more than it can deliver. The freedom exalted so much in the original never really materialised in my view. Don't get me wrong it was an interesting premise but it wasn't as revolutionary as it was made out to be. Quite frankly I found it a little dull, call me a philistine, but it just didn't grab me by the throat and make me take notice. Much of that I felt was due to a singular lack of control, that my godliness was dependent too much on simple influence. I'm a god after all, surely I have the right to choose exactly how much I want to interfere with the little ants I call worshippers. So in Black and White 2 this was tweaked somewhat, now you can make your followers into the conversion war machine you've always wanted. An unstoppable hoard chanting your name and burning the heretics! But there is one slight problem in all of this rabble rousing. The game mechanics themselves. They're shit.
I was going to come up with a long winded and exceptional metaphor to fully help you comprehend how bad they are, but then I thought plain English did the job better. From lacking a drag selection function to having no upgrade system the entire set up feels flawed. If anything it feels like an RTS's for dummies. This is justified by your being a god, not a general on the battlefield like say, in Medieval Total War. Instead it just comes across as amateurish, the hefty number of units you can command becoming a burden as you have to select them one at a time. There is just too much micro management with too few controls to do the job. This is then compounded by an inferior AI that behaves in a manner one would expect from the original Age of Empires, for when a city or town is defended by a god a couple of units and a catapult really ain't going to cut it. There is no feeling that you can lose so the game lacks any sense of gravitas. It puts paid to the grand ideal of god hood by making it into a chore that has to be done, not a desperate struggle for ascension.
Impressive? Imagine building dozens. I was a weary god by the end of it all.
If you're a more peaceable sort you can convert through awing the surrounding settlements with your mighty city building. I actually quite enjoyed this facet of the game, for there are plenty of different buildings to construct and how you decide to build your city has an effect on the happiness of your people. Are you going to build them beautiful villas or squalid huts, enough of which together will form depressing slums. Also, there's nothing like a good torture pit to vent your frustrations, it's all very satisfying. It can however become a little much, your godly abilities being judged on how much your people like that new temple you just built, rather than how much they worship you in it. Also, taking over the map through conversion alone is a ball ache and becomes repetitive all too quickly, forcing you to rely on your men at arms. I imagine this was the point, to force you to choose exactly how dedicated you are to one path or another, but the game seems intent on pushing you into the grey area and punishing you for making a definite choice.
So pretty, but not much else besides.
The devil is in the details, for while Lionhead Studios did a fair job with the graphical presentation, it is pretty to be sure, they failed miserably in the menu design department. It's little niggling things like having to scroll through each building to find what you want or having to construct each building in turn, it's all a bit irritating, especially when you're building the thousandth house. I have to say that that the only menu attachments I found genuinely effective were those relating to your creature, your avatar on earth. You can select him to be a builder one moment or a warrior the next, with the warning that leaving him under these commands for too long will turn him into a mindless automaton. It's perhaps the one facet of the game were the simplicity of it actually enhances the experience, instead of feeling like the Sims Do Godhood. It just feels patronising at times, that in trying to make the game accessible Lionhead also made it repetitive and stupid.
So to conclude, Black and White 2 is not a seminal moment in gaming history. It's too casual and lacks true depth, for while it may entertain on a basic, pick up and play level, it doesn't immerse one in what it is to be a god. At the most it's an RTS with a few gimmicks. I will admit that the moral system is effectively developed, however the game mechanics, the two facets of war or awe don't mesh as well as they should. You can't play this game as a do-gooder because it becomes plain dull, while the combat mechanics are none existent. There's no strategy other than who has more men, materials, or in the players case, godly abilities. Excellent for defence, but poor at range. You can't even aim properly, something I find wholly unforgivable. So if you'd like a casual outing as a micro managing deity with all the abilities of a city foreman, be my guest. Otherwise chuck it in a draw and play a proper RTS, as this sure ain't it.
The Avengers. They're all Marvel legends in their own right, titans of the comic book age. So when I heard that they were all coming to the big screen in one action packed outing, I naturally recoiled, burned, afraid. Here was the potential for disaster, the moment that the entire comic book film industry came crashing to the ground. A cluster fuck, if you will. Such fears were allayed slightly by the announcement of the venerable Joss Whedon helming the project, being a worshipper of his Buffy and Firefly universes, but still it seemed a tad like madness. Surely it would fail. So many title characters simply couldn't play nicely together, not without taking a serious personality clipping in the process, defeating the entire purpose of the movie. It could have become Iron Man 3 And Friends, or Captain America And Some Other Guys, but in a shock turn, it didn't. Suffice as to say I have had to say many a hail Mary to Whedon's alter for the past few hours. My devotion has been reaffirmed. But how has this been achieved I hear you wonder? Has our trusty reviewer taken a blow to the head, is he now living in a Lucas denial as following Star Wars Episode One? I must disabuse you of that notion. I am in fact of sound nerd mind and body. Whedon just did it. With a slick script and character balancing he has delivered a fine addition to the annals of the comic book movie. Let me tell you how.
Prepare for snarkiness.
Firstly, he made the Avengers a team. It sounds simple, perhaps nigh on "duh" territory, but it could easily just have been a group of superheroes sharing screen time. No links, no witty banter, just a bunch of overcharged egos beating the crap out of this or that. Whedon was a solid choice for this singular reason, all of his stories involve multiple characters who are all people in their own right. There are no hangers on. Just look at Firefly, I dare you to find a character you can't relate to. So while each of the Avengers has been around long before his ministrations, whether it be in movie or comic book form, they weren't necessarily going to work well together. That isn't to say there were no stand out performances, characters who seemed a little more prominent than the rest. For me, it was Iron Man, Mr. Tony Stark himself. I'm inclined to think this was more through the force of his personality than a conscious choice by Whedon himself, although I could be wrong. There is something irresistible about that billionaire, playboy philanthropist that I can't quite pin down. Watching him jest with Thor and Captain America near gave me a head rush, while his relationship with Bruce Banner is the stuff that fine cinema is made of. They're both similar in their own ways, loose cannons with varying degrees of control. This is all aided by the tightness of the script, with very few lines being wasted on asinine dialogue, much as was the case with that other film-freight-chain-franchise, Transformers. Time isn't wasted trying to make the characters funny, they just behave as they should and the humour feels natural. Even a slapstick moment involving Thor, The Hulk and his meaty green fist didn't feel forced, the entire theatre erupting into laughter.
There is one area in which the film seems to lag, although maybe necessarily, and that's in the story department. It draws heavily from the previous Thor outing and as such is a little confusing at the beginning, as we are bombarded with objects and places such as the Tesseract, Asgard, S.H.I.E.L.D and Loki. In fairness this all comes together pretty quickly, but it is a little off putting if you don't know the previous back story. It's all basic stuff when we get a little further in, Loki is leading an army of extremely angry aliens to conquer the earth and it's up to the Avengers to stop him. It ain't a head scratcher, but as I mentioned, perhaps there was no choice. With so many characters vying for development and screen time it was probably for the best that the story was kept to it's bear bones. The film would have ended up feeling slightly overloaded, instead dragging rather than entertaining us through it's two hours thirty of a runtime. Maybe we'll see something a little more intricate in the next installment, assuming that the many millions it has made already warrant a sequel.
Mark Ruffalo has left the building.
Of the assembled cast, Robert Downey Junior and Mark Ruffalo really steal the show. Banner enjoys a jittery quality that echoes Jekyll and Hyde as he tries to control the beast within. For as he says himself "I'm always angry." He surpasses Edward Norton's portrayal in the Incredible Hulk, although I admit that could just be down to personal preference, delivering a far more unstable character. Meanwhile, Junior is his usual swaggering self, collectively aggravating every member of the team while displaying his textbook Tony Stark brilliance. Watching the sparks fly between him and Captain America was one of the highlights of the movie for me, one man standing for all that is good and pure, the other an arrogant, irresponsible playboy. In all the entire cast delivered, while not Oscar worthy performances, a knock above the rest, making sure that any potential silliness stays on the sidelines. Badly acted superheroes look all the more ridiculous when they come into contact with reality after all. No man in real life would wear a costume as bright and tight as Captain America's oh-so homo erotic get up.
Didn't give me goosebumps, good enough though.
Moving on, I am going to give a nod to the special effects, even if it is a little redundant. They're nothing we haven't seen before, but they're impressive. Manhattan burns in style, the explosions are top notch and the alien spacecraft pew pew to perfection. I may sound exceptionally jaded, but until they perfect holographic technology I'm not going to give them a thumbs up, especially given their obsession with the "3D experience." So to conclude, Avengers Assemble is a near perfect example of big budget blockbusters getting things right. Well developed characters, quick dialogue and explosions to boot are hallmarks of Whedon's directing and writing styles, as they should be throughout Hollywood. Without him, I honestly believe the premise would never have gotten off the ground. Comic books movies are scrupulously analysed by fans and have suffered their wrath on a number of occasions, remember The Fantastic Four and it's dire sequel? Handing the film to a sci-fi, geek veteran was really the only choice the studio had. So go and see Avengers Assemble, feed Marvels money machine and the corporate oligarchy, because at the end of the day, it's more than worth it.
I went into Star Wars: The Clone Wars prepared to bear the brunt of at least a modicum of disappointment. What you must understand is that as an avid fan of Lucas's grand creation I have weathered the fans discontent from The Phantom Menace, rose above the somewhat stilted acting and script of Attack of The Clones and found ultimate redemption in the semi-epic conclusion that is Revenge of The Sith. Like all movie franchises the series has had its flaws, its ups and downs, and sadly for this movie it is perhaps the furthest the saga has ever had to fall. George Lucas I beseech you, what in the name of Korriban were you thinking?
Don't we fans deserve a little respect? We've suffered enough
We open without the quintessential reel of story and instead are force fed a quick summary from some cantina layabout, who may or may not have once worked on one of the ill fated Starship Trooper sequels. Jabba's son has been kidnapped is the general jist of it and only the Jedi can possibly save him from the clutches of the evil Separatists. Ignoring the fact that nowhere else does this figment of imagination rear its damned ugly head, we as viewers are further insulted by the creature's name: Stinky. This is only a nickname mind you, who knows what you'd even call a baby Hutt, so I became rather resigned to it in the end. It almost made me long for Jar Jar back, if only almost. The entire plot is centred around the rescue and quite frankly there's very little else to explain. Simply put:
If the Separatists win and return the son they stole they can use the Hutt Space lanes to help defeat the Republic. Or, well you know the Republic does the same blasted thing but only to the Separatists. It's not a head scratcher. There are no, "I am your Father" style bombshells here.
Where's Order 66 when you need it?
However, I am getting ahead of myself and in so doing I am perhaps skating over the worst partnership in the history of film. Enter Anakin's (Matt Lanter) new Padawan; yes, I said Anakin's new Padawan, Ahsoka Tano (Ashley Eckstein). Given that almost the entire cast, minus the obviously confused Lee and Jackson, returned to voice their characters you would have thought that George might have felt the need to up the dialogue to a notch above dire, simple-minded-singular-sentences. But alas, no, and instead we are given witty banter between the two protagonists that boarders between redundant and woefully stupid. From stating the blindingly obvious to acting like an American brat lifted straight from High School Musical Thirteen, Ahsoka very quickly becomes the character you want to see Dooku soundly cleaving in two. By the end you'd probably pay your admission fee just to see a twenty second clip of the blessed event.
The bad guys themselves, Dooku and Assajj Ventress are nothing to write home about but do successfully put up a front of being evil without having to resort to pep rally bickering. The simple fact is that they are the anti Tano and Skywalker, which will immediately have you rooting for them if only to end your own suffering. But when you have to back the sadistic, and in Ventress's case psychotic, bad guy you know you're in trouble. For as much as we'd like not to admit it we all want to see the good guys win... Just not these good guys.
Something of a last stand situation?
In fairness the effects for the film are not that bad, although they don't touch the complexity or artful skill say, shown in WALL-E. Actually there are a lot of things this film doesn't share with WALL-E, but the battle scenes are well rendered, adding some desperately needed weight to the flailing narrative. Obi Wan (James Arnold Taylor) actually delivers a passable Ewan McGregor impersonation, but once again the abysmal dialogue drops this small victory into the Rancor pit. After a while you do begin to wonder if the Jedi Master has perhaps meditated himself into a vegetative state; by the closing credits you very well may be hard pressed to remember your own name.
And there is one vital component that no Star Wars film can be found without, the musical score of John Williams who has successfully brought a consistent and vibrant feel to the series that is instantly recognisable as Star Wars. He made tiny Ewoks being blown to smithereens even sadder for Pete sake! The man quite simply is a genius. One however that is missing from The Clone Wars, and instead we are subjected to the guitar infused machinations of Kevin Kiner. Who seems upon realising he could not match Williams finesse struck off in another direction altogether, which quite frankly bombed faster than a Tie Fighter with an X-Wing up its rear end.
It does seem that this entire sordid affair need never have been brought into the light of day. In the end Star Wars fans are a picky bunch, they hated Phantom Menace as it could never live up to their expectations. So why did poor, dim George think that they could ever be sated by a teenage Disney padawan and her suddenly happy-peppy-none-dark- side-turning master? Honestly I don't have a clue and short of a well timed Jedi mind trick I doubt we ever will. This foray into the world of computer Star Wars animation should be consigned to the history books and preferably hidden from sight, if only to stop our children from judging us too harshly. So may the force be with you and watch your DVD's instead, as there's nothing more fun than watching the Death Star go boom, and pretending that The Clone Wars was a figment of your obviously over stimulated imagination.
Book to film conversions. Some are certainly more successful than others and I don't mean financially. The Harry Potter series for instance generally languishes in the so-so department while stories such as Eragon are damn near villainous in their portrayal. A bad script, poor direction and Edward, fucking, Spleers. The guy was obviously chosen as a pretty face, not for his abilities. Now, when dealing with sensitive topics such as mental illness I cannot say one medium is superior over another, however in this case a clear distinction exists. It's Kind of a Funny Story is a tale centring on Craig, a teenager for whom the rigours of life have finally become too much, and he ends up on a 30 day psychiatric hold in Six North. Let's say it's a quirky place for quirky people. In the book his personality, his dreams and the failings of his psyche are developed with keen interest. They help us to understand that Craig's life is not the sole reason behind his unhappiness, alluding to the chemical issues at work in ones brain while depressed. And this is a book aimed at teenagers. It educates as well as aids in both understanding and dealing with depression, and quite frankly, the film fails miserably.
DVD Cover: It's Kind of a Funny Story
Keir Gilchrist, our resident Craig is problematic to begin with, but we'll get to him. No, the central issue with the movie is the way in which it pulls away from depression being an illness and rather a single manifestation of Craig's oh-so difficult life. I would like to say here that I am in no way saying that problems within ones life cannot lead to depression, but rather this departure from the book is unforgivable.While in the novel Craig's family is supportive and entirely dedicated to his getting better, the film gives us a dysfunctional and emotionally distant unit, possessing an overbearing dad and a useless mother, acted by the poorly used Lauren Graham. It seems like the directors, Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck were desperate to show that his depression was firmly rooted in reality, as heaven forbid, we don't want people to think it's an actual illness anyone could get. That could cause a panic.
I'm sad and stuff. (Sigh) Depression is hard. The entire escapade is further damaged by the directors irritating take on Craig as a character. You see, in the novel Craig isn't cutting his wrists and weeping to some two bit love ballad, he's more subtly askew. It makes him easier to relate to and strikes a decent balance between the unavoidable darker sides and moments of humorous levity. Sure he throws up and can't keep his food down, however this is tempered by Craig's amusing observations and peculiar world. The directors in their haste seem to lose sight of this nuance, making Craig into a rather insufferable little sod in the process. A poster child for electro shock therapy if ever there was one, he comes across as moody, shallow and downright dull. I understand that the film was supposed to be up lifting, but it would have been also rather nice had Craig exhibited any of the other symptoms common with depression. Other than his obligatory throwing up we are given no real indicators that he is unhappy, apart from being an arse throughout the movie. This is of course then compounded by declaring his love for his best friends ex girlfriend as to sleep with her, while also standing in front of the girl who was supposed to be his love interest. And said love interest hooks up with him anyway. Interesting the way in which Boden and Fleck took the moment of the book designed to inspire and fill teenagers with a sense of all will come right, and instead made Craig appear to be a Herculean, cheating scum bag.
Zach Galifianakis says what? The supporting cast just doesn't seem to exist, comprising a series of peculiar characters who are never developed. Even Bobby, the head patient as it were, played by Zach Galifianakis feels more like a peripheral character, his problems boiled down to a difficult relationship with his child. It's far from the rich and plain quirky characters in play in the book, if anything they seem like cut outs of Ned Vizzini's creations, placed their to help us all bask in the greatness of Craig's tragic life.
Now, considering that this article is veering heavily in the direction of a rant, I shall conclude my slightly comparative musings with a final nod to a fine book and a terrible film. If I could describe it as anything, I would say it's flat, dreary and wholly misses the point of the story by languishing with Craig, and only Craig. A boy so uninteresting he made me pine for Charlie, the over the top creation from The Perks of Being a Wallflower. If you've read my review of that particular work, you'll know of the hefty disdain I feel for young Charlie, but this pales into insignificance in comparison to It's Kind of a Funny Story, the movie.
