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Despite a couple of issues, season two of Jessica Jones secures it as one of the best American shows around.
Control. A simple word that manages to capture the entirety of Jessica Jones season one. The fear of losing control. The terror of all control being relinquished to another’s will. The obsession with maintaining control. The fight to seize back control of yourself and your life.
Every character in the show had their own struggle with and approach to control. By so thoroughly exploring these ideas, it allowed Jessica Jones to elevate itself beyond common television and become a model of Netflix’s potential for long-form story-telling. True, Daredevil’s first season accomplished a similar task, but not so tightly woven as Jessica Jones had managed to.
Unfortunately, you can’t really summarize the themes of season two so succinctly. If I had to choose, I’d say the idea behind the story arc was “the lies we tell ourselves”... or perhaps it’s actually “the monster within us”? Most likely it’s both. Rather than explore a singular concept with each character, it’s an exploration of two separate traits that all of its characters share.
September has finally seen me getting back to proper work on the YouTube channel... slow-going as it may be.
Slow though it may have been, my body had finally healed enough that I could resume progress on recording Rise of the Tomb Raider in September. Sadly, it took nearly half of the month to reach that point, and almost the entire remainder to complete the recording. As I knew it would be, the possibility of releasing the video in September was nil.
I’ll spare you further digressions into the slow progress of a herniated disc healing. I will only assure you that I am back to being capable of sitting more regularly. However, it is still something I need breaks from. I will always have my time set aside to get work done, but I do not wish for this to happen again. I must live a healthier lifestyle, which not only means more exercise and an improved diet, but also more time giving my back a chance to rest.
If only my mind could remain equally still.
Just as I get back into superheroes, Steve has decided he's had enough.
No matter how many times the revelation of the summit is experienced, beating the habit is a steep mountain to climb.
My sighs are heavy with exasperation as Danny Rand continues to repeat his mistakes in season two of Iron Fist. It is one of my most common gripes with Western television and its undying effort to last forever. Yes, there are plenty of anime that seem incapable of knowing when to stop, but the quantity of entertainment that tells a complete, whole story versus being left to crawl in desperation and futility away from the grave of cancellation is staggering. Once Upon a Time is a television show that was notorious for pushing its antagonists through redemption arcs only to fall right back down the hill at the start of the next season.
I tire of characters that refuse to learn, yet I myself am incapable of the change I desire to see in fiction. For years I’ve repeated the same selfish mistakes with friends and family, driving a willful wedge to create distance. All the while I would deny my part in the division. I pray daily for the strength and willpower to cease the sabotage of myself only to awaken in the morning set on violating my self-imposed guidelines.
I keep insisting I will only write and craft video for myself, only to be obsessed with the thoughts and judgment of others.
As close as it gets, Marvel's Spider-Man still fails to quite be the superhero game possible.
There’s a lot that Insomniac Games got right when interpreting Spider-Man into a digital, interactive medium. The rush of cars beneath as you swing like a pendulum above, lashing out another sticky tether to catapult towards danger. The acrobatic mid-air freedom as you net one thug to the wall before snatching a manhole cover from the ground, careening it off of a gunman’s head before pulling yourself into a fist-first greeting with that jerk and his rocket launcher.
“You really feel like Spider-Man!” is the common quote hailed by games writers whose creativity is depleted by time pressures and collection of other deadlines they need to hand in. Certainly, these moments are what any fan of the cowled arachno-boy could hope for. They also allow the game to stand apart on a raw mechanical level. From swinging between skyscrapers to pummeling punks, Marvel’s Spider-Man offers an experience like no other. At least, as long as we’re talking about maneuverability.
There’s a lot more to being Peter Parker – and a superhero at that – than your powers.
The Merc with a Mouth is at his best when he's having fun. For some reason, the writers thought it best for him to stop having fun.
What makes Deadpool as a character so appealing? This is the question I’ve failed to properly address as I’ve banged my face into the keyboard for two weeks trying to write about these blasted films. It’s only with this… fourth or fifth draft that I’ve realized the core of my problem: what I personally find appealing about Deadpool versus what others might find appealing. My arguments never felt convincing because I was assuming my readership would feel the same as I do in regards to Wade Wilson.
When it comes to the comics themselves, I checked out pretty early on. I believe I called it quits the very issue that T-Ray revealed himself to be “the real” Wade Wilson while Deadpool was just some sociopath that stole his life. That kind of background swapping complication was precisely why I never got deep into comic books. Moreover, it tries to further complicate the character emotionally in ways that do him a disservice. I have similar issues with Alan Moore’s beloved The Killing Joke. Though it is still left vague and uncertain by the end, Joker is effectively given an origin. An origin that humanizes The Joker, revealing him to be some weak, pathetic little man that went insane off of a bunch of chemicals to the brain. Whereas the Joker was once a threat, he now just seems like a sad, twisted little man with a complex.
After an unplanned hiatus, Chris and Steve finally return to discuss indie gem Iconoclasts.
Even if perfect objectivity is impossible, pure subjectivity is pointless and provokes no desire for improvement.
Probably tens of thousands of words on this blog have catalogued my ever-growing and expanding perspective on game reviews. I’d imagine during the site’s inception ten years ago I was thoroughly convinced that journalism was broken and needed some enlightened fellow like myself to come along and save it. I even came up with a video game variant of John Updike’s Six Rules for Constructive Criticism.
Many of those words were penned with an attitude of frustration and aggression towards games press that I no longer possess. I may just be getting tired in my ripe old age of thirty-three, or I may finally be maturing like I should have a decade ago. It could also be that I’ve finally come to terms with the source of my aggression being an insecure belief that no one cares about what I have to say about games. Regardless, I have grown to appreciate that there’s a vast ocean of games writing out there. I may not agree with all of it – or more specifically, I may not agree with many of the attitudes behind some opinions – but between the written word, podcasts and YouTube, there’s a little something for everyone out there.
Nevertheless, I feel like I’ve kept my lips sealed a bit too long on the topic of objectivity in recent days for fear of losing the respect of would-be readers. It seems common to hear the word “objective” in regards to reviews and scoff. Of course there’s no such thing as perfect objectivity! I even opened my analysis of God of War with just such an observation!
However, just because perfect objectivity is impossible does not mean that critics should ignore it as a personal goal.
Despite being another enjoyable Tokyo RPG Factory title, Lost Sphear manages to disappoint.
Perhaps my expectations for Lost Sphear were a bit too high. Not to begin by giving the impression I disliked the game. I am actually quite looking forward to whatever Tokyo RPG Factory is next tinkering on… supposing Lost Sphear’s Western sales were to Square Enix’s liking.
It seems I was a bit of an outlier in my love for I Am Setsuna. Despite the flaws of its systems I really enjoyed what it did with its story. Popular opinion seems to be colder due to the gameplay not capturing the same je ne sais quoi of obvious inspiration Chrono Trigger. Such frozen reception means not many were looking forward to the follow-up, whereas my experience with I Am Setsuna turned Lost Sphear into a must-play of 2018.
A mech show with potential that fails to be as smart as it thinks it is.
I am starting to believe that Studio Trigger’s obsession with escalation is going to one day bite them in their own jugular. You can trace many of its key staffers – including members of A-1 Pictures – as far back as their days at Gainax working on Gurren Lagaan, the show that no doubt embedded this habit of going as big as possible into Trigger’s DNA.
The conundrum is that Darling in the Franxx lacks the tone that their most over-the-top works possess. Whereas Kill la Kill let you know how outrageous it was going to be in the opening minutes, Darling in the Franxx maintains a completely straight face from start to finish. The absurd designs of the Mecha seem to be a contradiction to the atmosphere being targeted. This is not a comedy but a drama with occasional outbursts of humor. While it is never “realistic”, it certainly seems to adhere to a more strict set of rules. These rules establish a tonal consistency that imbue the viewer with certain expectations regarding mood and presentation.
The final episodes sabotage the established suspension of disbelief. The escalation maintains its signature Trigger absurdity while insisting it has dramatic weight. In Gurren Lagaan the intent of having mechs throwing solar systems at each other in the finale is to be so ridiculous the viewer laughs. Darling in the Franxx makes some outrageous transformations, but they want you to take it seriously. Perhaps feeling awe, admiration, or overwhelming, tear-filled happiness.
I begin with the end so that I might make clear how much I enjoyed the show up until that point. Yes, the opening episodes are so blunt about their subject matter that they may as well be comedian Gallagher taking a sledgehammer to the watermelon that is your head. But there’s a reason for such bluntness.
A physical ailment kept me out of commission for most of August, but allowed time to work on other projects and think ahead.
So… about that month of August…
Those that had read the entry Fires Inside are already aware, but at the start of the month I suffered a herniated disc that pinched my sciatic nerve. In more common tongue: stuff came out of a disc towards the bottom of my spine that made my leg hurt like a son of a gun.
I used my remaining vacation time for the year in order to take time off from work and try to give my back some rest. Sitting for any length of time was uncomfortable and only caused more pain. After a week of rest I returned to work, forced to sit roughly eight hours a day with occasional breaks to try and ease up the pressure on the problem spot. The unfortunate impact of returning to work was that I could not stomach the thought of sitting any more than necessary, and so no progress was made on recording Rise of the Tomb Raider.
Physical therapy the past two weeks has been a major help, and I now feel more comfortable with the notion of resuming my recordings. Unfortunately, I can no longer promise a video in September. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to make October. This whole ordeal initially dealt a major blow to my motivation to create a Rise of the Tomb Raider video.
A new layout, a new domain, and a new user-friendliness that will work on any device!
Good riddance to that old news
Hello readers and welcome to the brand new RamblePak64.com! That’s right, a brand spanking new domain to actually create some level of brand consistency! Pictured above is, of course, the previous design. It was pretty much outdated when I created it in 2010, and it only became increasingly awful looking as time progress.
Aside from a lot less clutter, you’ll notice that this website is actually responsive! For those not into the web development lingo, that means no matter what device you’re using, the website scales to look presentable and readable. I’ve been wanting to redesign the site for a few years now, but I only finally got around to it. Naturally, I’m using an old version of Bootstrap, a toolkit that makes responsive design easy. I’m also using an archaic version of Expression Engine for the CMS still. I’m the world’s only luddite web developer.
So, why don’t we get to the nitty gritty? First, the new and simpler approach to the blog before I detail why I cut and trimmed a lot of the extraneous fat.
Even if God of War has something for everyone, the something for me is completely optional.
Pure objectivity is an impossible standard of evaluation to achieve. The odds of someone being capable of analyzing a piece of art in such a manner are astronomically low. You’d need to first cast aside the heart necessary to appreciate expressive works in the first place. A critic must first love the art being evaluated enough that deeper study and efforts of understanding become a natural compulsion.
To that end, God of War is a pain in my critical butt. I hold no substantial familiarity with the prior games aside from marketing, E3 gameplay demonstrations, and the opening level to the debut title. I was not excited for this new entry at all, and even found its new direction an obnoxious plea to be perceived as meaningful and mature. I was upset on behalf of fans that Sony would try and force a bloody action franchise into a trendy new presentation rather than craft an all new property or maintain the series’ spirit.
The endless adulation of the press did nothing to budge my interest meter. It was only through the adamant nagging of my titular podcast co-host Steve that I relented. I finally played God of War.
I fell in love.
A collection of beautiful threads woven into a somewhat frayed quilt at the end.
As I mentioned last time on Silver Screenings, Kill la Kill’s complete lack of restraint is perhaps its greatest vulnerability. It has a lot of interesting ideas and themes going for it, but the goal of delivering them all in outrageous, outlandish fashion muddles any message being communicated.
So why don’t we start with the beginning? The opening four minutes of the very first episode embedded above is actually packed dense with the ideas this anime is trying to convey.
The general over-the-top and somewhat comedic tone is established efficiently. We can see that Kill la Kill has no regard for the laws of physical reality, instead over-dramatizing everything into amusing spectacle. We recognize a character like Gamagoori as strong and imposing, but he’s not portrayed in a sinister or frightening fashion. We may even laugh at seeing him simply falling through the air outside the windows as the student desperately flees.
This is the easy stuff. What’s more surprising is how many of the show’s themes are succinctly introduced within these few goofy minutes.
Everything's not fine, but I have a feeling it could be if I work hard enough
This essay was originally written with pen and paper during my bedridden time recovering from a pinched sciatic nerve. In hindsight I wish I had done more handwritten essays to later transcribe, and may do more in the future just for the fun of it.
It’s likely you never noticed the lack of foul language upon this blog of late. An absence of colorful outbursts in Eh! Steve! has freed me to strip the “explicit” tag from the latest episodes like a band-aid from a healed wound. The past few episodes of RamblePak64 have also been free of “colorful language” – an amusing term considering such words are more like rusted iron bludgeoning the ear canal than chromatic concertos of poetry.
This absence has been an active effort to exorcise cursing from my daily vocabulary. One day I’d like to be able to lead youth at a Church, and while I imagine there are plenty of good leaders whose tongues occasionally slip, I’d like to be the same person no matter whose company I am in.
Months of effort were shattered to dust when an excruciating pain struck along my thigh, flooding my mouth with a torrent of filth. I cannot adequately describe the torment as over a week of time has smeared my memory into an unfocused fog. All I can say was how every fiber of muscle seemed to pull and tear apart, yanking fiercely at the tendons tethering them to bone. My fingers gripped the coat hanger of my brother’s car passenger seat, a piece of plastic I once referred to as the “oh-5#!+-bar” – I’m sure you master code crackers can decipher my meaning there.
As my brother drove us home from the doctor’s he began to discuss something regarding the anime Darling in the Franxx. The sound of his voice managed to breeze its way through my ears but the pain sent the words into a tumultuous storm chaotically clashing in my skull. His efforts to distract me were in vain. Soon all I could do as my leg fought to stretch out, foot pressing desperately to the floor of his car, was pray.
