Roger Ebert Returns to his “Games cannot be high art” theme

Once again, Roger Ebert has returned to his statement that “games could not be art.”  Since he originally made that statement, he realized it was indefensible, adding that what he should have said was: “could not be high art, as I understand it.”  Of course that statement is very easy to defend, given the flexibility of “as I understand it.”  But Ebert also hints at another claim, when he says: “I remain convinced that in principle, video games cannot be art.” Is he saying that tautologically, games cannot be art?  If so, he abandons that position two sentences later when he says that games will not be art for a very long time.

I like Roger Ebert, and I think he does think things through.  And many of the critics of his position on this have been a little too ad hominum, as if finding some deep psychological problem with Ebert’s feeling towards games would dissolve his argument.  But I suspect that his thinking on this reflects the thinking of most video-game outsiders.  He doesn’t think they’re art, and neither does your mom.  But you don’t give her crap about it, do you?

Some of arguments are true.  He doesn’t get video-games.  He can’t readily distinguish between “braid” and a shooter based on David Koresh, at least not enough to see why people suggesting these games as art have entirely different perspectives.  When he tries to describe what’s there, he lists the mechanics.  But I don’t think that invalidates his opinion.  I don’t understand Nascar, but I can make a cogent observation that it is not a sport. (Especially if I can use the “as I understand sport” escape valve.)  Maybe I think sports require the exertion and testing of physical body vs. physical body.

But the one trick that Ebert really pulls off, is to hide his actual argument.  Then, as people attack him, he moves from “as a matter of principle” over to “bad in fact”, then back.  Also, as he never defines his conception of art, it’s easy for him to discount arguments based on various theories.  When people claim they have been moved by video-games, or that they see beauty, or that a video-game is sublime or subtle, he can go to a point of view that doesn’t accept any of these things as a definition of art.

Here’s the thing.  ”matter of principle” means tautological, which requires precise definitions of both high art and videogaming.  It also means that the level and quality does not matter at all.  And, it means that no amount of change over time would change it.  Ebert does not give us the precise definitions, he does argue about the quality of the examples, and he allows that a time may come when this changes.

But once admitting that it is not “matter of principle,” then his other factors come into play.  If it is the quality of the examples, then we can find better ones.  The truth is that video-games are maturing at a far more rapid rate than other media.  A video-game sequel is considered a good thing, because it WILL be a lot better.  (not always, but moreso than with movies).  New experimental directions, such as Heavy Rain, do not have an equivalent in film, because there are no new avenues being opened up in terms of the technology or the potential interfaces.  The newest thing in film? 3-D.

Ultimately, I think Ebert’s claim is really more personal.  It’s like that made by the film professors back when music videos were trying to be art.  ”Nothing new here.”  Yes, from their POV, nothing.  But they had the whole history of film to draw on.  The music video audience was seeing new stuff, sliced and diced and offered up in a format they could understand.  To them, it was an emerging art form.  Similarly, if you try and abstract the story, or the visuals from a current game and offer it up to someone who doesn’t engage, someone who has a library of great movies in his head, there won’t be anything new.   Because the new part doesn’t translate.  But to us, some of this is art.  And someday, the art may be new in ways that nobody now can anticipate.

Avatar vs. Star Wars

One podcast I listen to made an interesting comparison between Avatar and Star Wars.  Each movie raised the bar for blockbusters, as well as working in a genre that can be described as Space Opera.  A little too easy and facile for Science Fiction, but set in a future universe.  In fact, both movies rely heavily on the mythology of the American West as background, though Star Wars uses a lot more Eastern martial arts iconography as well.  But the real comparison was about the effect the movies had on the industry.  It’s undeniable that movies before Star Wars, or many that are actually contemporary, but were in production before Star Wars broke all box office records, look cheap now.  No matter what your memory is of the special effects, if you go back and see it now, it will look fake.

No doubt that’s what Cameron meant when he talked about his movie.  Hopefully he was not talking about the story.  So, will every movie in the blockbuster/space-opera genre be in 3-D with flawless CGI? Will budgets continue to push upwards of $400 million dollars?  Seems likely.  On the other hand, will Avatar go down in our collective memory the way Star Wars did?  I find that very doubtful.  Technical advances may have had a great influence at the time Star Wars came out, but that’s not why we remember it now.  After all, as soon as it was out, everybody else set out surpassing it.  Matrix made a similar leap in visual technique, but little else about the movie has lasted.

Star Wars had something else that was special, something that even George Lucas could never find again.  Though nobody could call the acting great, the relationships between the characters were inspired.  Obi-Wan is still an archetype, and Darth Vader is synonymous with ultimate bad guy.  Princess Leia was the perfect damsel in distress, who could also kick some ass.  But the key was really the hero.  Instead of just focusing on the “chosen one”, Star Wars kept balancing Luke with Han Solo.  Han Solo was fun in a way that Luke could never be.  Neo was never fun, the hero of Avatar could never catch that magic.  Nobody in the sequels had it.  Maybe it was just Harrison Ford, but I also think the character of the co-hero lifted some of the seriousness that oppresses adventure movies when the film-maker starts thinking about making art.  Lucas could be as serious as he wanted about the Force, destiny, and the themes of good and evil and fatherhood, without drowning the old-fashioned serial-movie fun, because Han Solo was always there.

It seems odd that one movie could have given the modern standard examplar of three cultural archetypes, but Star Wars did it.  Darth Vader, Obi-Wan, and Han Solo are always with us.  You can pull out any of those names and describe someone, and you’ve covered that topic.  I can’t imagine any character from Avatar will be that memorable even a year from now.

Piranha II vs. Avatar

Piranha II is James Cameron’s first feature movie, and Avatar is the most recent.  How has his moral message and story-telling evolved?

In Piranha II, you were likely to get killed by a carnivorous flying fish if:

  • You are female and naked.
  • You have sex unconnected to romance.
  • You’re a somewhat ridiculous older woman.
  • You are an ethnic side-character.

Also, if you’re ex-military, you’re instinctively evil, even when you try to be good.  if you’re a corporate person, you’re stupidly evil.

Things have gotten a lot better for naked or semi-naked women/aliens in Avatar, and only good people have sex, which is romantic as heck.  On the other hand:

  • Military is still evil.
  • Corporations are stupidly evil.
  • Michelle Rodriguez? Dead.
  • Sigourney Weaver? Dead. (well, she does get instantly recycled into a giant tree, so that’s something)

The Crawling Hand (Review and Reflection)

I saw this movie as a child.  It came in 1963, but as I saw it on television, it must have been later.  Whatever age I was, my brother was three younger.  I can remember, after watching the movie, creeping my hand towards him from around corners, down from the top of the bunk-bed, etc.  It always got a scare.  But I don’t remember much about the movie itself.  Since tonight is Halloween, and since I tried watching a modern low-budget slasher and got bored, I decided to pull this up on Hulu.

I’ll write this up as it goes.  The first section involves an overdue astronaut, coming back from the moon.  They make it clear that this is the second mission, the first one ended in disaster.  The second one is starting to go the same way.  The sets are minimal, but the film-makers didn’t try and show whole command centers, so it works well enough.  Then there’s a scene where the astronaut makes contact, twenty minutes after they know his oxygen must have run out.  He is pleading with control to kill him, use an auto-destruct button.  He cannot do it himself, because his hands won’t obey him.  The scene is nicely done, nothing low-budget of badly acted here.  You actually do feel the agony of the decision the scientists on the ground have to make.  So far so good.

Also, Alan Hale will be in this one.  I love Alan Hale.  He turned in a pretty great performance in The Giant Spider Invasion.  For those who don’t know, he is the skipper in Gilligan’s Island, the ultimate prototype sit-com.

We get introduced to the small town in a scene set in a cafe.  Some kids are dancing, the owner keeps telling them: “no dancing”.  Meanwhile, two girls, obviously main characters, are chatting.  They also have a cage with rats in it on the table.  One is wondering how the other managed to “snatch” the young med student as a boyfriend.  Apparently a dozen other girls have failed.  Actual dialog:

“I’m not saying you’re not stacked, he’s just not with it.”

That leads to a romantic interlude that, at whatever age I was then, probably went over my head.  Which is for the best.  The characters are weak 60s style teens, and the whole thing gets a little painful until it’s finally relieved by the arrival of the hand.  That section of the movie seems as if it were directed by someone else as well.  A second team director, maybe?  The angles are often wrong, people who are supposed to be conversing are staring off into space, and the presence of the back-screen is clear.

But when the action starts up again, it is kind of tense.  Moreso than with “Shredder,” a 2003 movie I tried watching earlier, but had to bail on as boredom swept in.

Now that Paul is going half-zombie, the quality of the movie starts plunging.  People keep acting strangely.  I think even as a child, I understood that things weren’t making sense.  The arm doesn’t seem very threatening, and the infected Paul seems to be more likely to go Emo than actually kill anyone.  But the movie is still fun.

It’s black and white, cheesy, and full of wooden acting, bad camera angles, and difficult to swallow plot points.  The central danger isn’t that credible, except when people are pretty near wasted.  But there are a few creepy scenes, and the overall cheese factor makes it fun.

Three Seasons of Lost in One Month

Somehow, perhaps because my Netflix-enabled xBox360 is now practically a video store in my living room, I ended up watching an episode of Lost.  My previous attitude towards Lost was a mixture of contempt and outrage that people where so devoted to it.  Some people compared it to BSG.  I kept comparing it to Gilligan’s Island.

But then, because I was in max ADD mode and needed something on in the background while I got some work done, I watched the first episode of Season one.  Then I watched the second episode, and the third.  Before the day was out, I was four episodes in.  As of now, I’ve finished Season 3, and fully intend to finish Season 4 before the last and final season starts live.  I love the show the same way I love peanut M & Ms.  They aren’t really nutritious, and it’s not exactly high-quality chocolate, but the combination can be perfect in the moment.

Broadly, though, my opinion hasn’t changed that much.  I still think:

  • The sci-fi in Lost sucks.  There’s no consistent underlying set of rules, just a sort of random interplay between odd tech and pure fantasy
  • The constant themes of fate and religion have been done better elsewhere.  The excess string of coincidence is constantly interpreted as having “meaning”.  But the meaning is always obscure.  “We were meant to be here.”  Sure, you were meant to be standing over there, and you, yes you, were meant to be naked.  (Kate, for instance, is constantly struggling with her clothes)
  • It’s no BSG.  But then, it really isn’t trying to be BSG.  One is a tightly woven story with gritty, real science fiction elements, the other is a bag of M & Ms.  Peanut.  It doesn’t make the M & Ms less tasty

What drives Lost is character.  The island is obviously the screen-writer’s vision of purgatory, whatever else they call it.  And purgatory is, by definition, filled with tortured souls who are on the edge between redemption and damnation.  Throw a bunch of these characters together, add some solid chemistry, and you get great drama.  Almost every character who gets introduced eventually becomes fascinating.  I love Bernie and Rose as much as I do Sawyer.  Of course Jack is just insufferable, but you always almost like him.

Mega Shark Vs. Giant Octopus: Breaking the Contract

My old roommate watched reality shows, like I Love NY and Rock of Love.  It was a total trainwreck, bad television gone worse, but there was something compelling in watching people be honestly stupid.  Some things you just can’t coach.  Yes, I know there is a bit of scripting, drama is encouraged, but you can see that some of the “contestants” really believe in what they’re trying to do.

Bad movies can be like that.  Uwe Boll really thinks he can direct.  The actors in most Sci-Fi originals are putting what they have on the table.  There’s no money for effects, the director is probably wasted, and the writers cobble their facts and plot points from other movies.  But that’s because they believe in those other movies.  Mega Shark Vs. Giant Octopus has everything you think you want in a bad movie:

  • Bad Special Effects
  • Ridiculous physics
  • Know-it-all scientists quoting 5th grade knowledge as if they discovered it
  • Fake accents
  • Sets that don’t match exterior shots
  • Plot holes and over-dramatic story elements that don’t relate to the plot
  • Lorenzo Lamas

But they’re faking it.  That’s not always bad.  A lot of bad movies are made better because the people making them were just having fun.  Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter is kind of awesome because Jesus teams up with a Mexican wrestler.  That’s just a genuine WTF.

Mega Shark Vs. Giant Octopus doesn’t have the crazy vision of JCVH, but it’s badness is guided by a conscious: “let’s do something stupid and the frat boys will laugh at this movie.”  Shark jumping 35,000 feet to take down an airliner?  No problem.  Scientists trying to solve problem by mixing colors?  Sure.  A submarine commander who got fired for running aground to avoid hitting a dolphin?  Why not?  It’s like they’re making the movie, throw in a clip of a battleship and say: “let’s call it a destroyer!”  “But it’s a battleship!”  “Yes, but the kids will laugh at us.”  Then the battleship fires guns fore and aft while the shark is attacking from the side.

We love bad movies because they make stupid mistakes, or because they try things nobody else will do, or just because that’s the best they could be.  But if someone cheats, if someone makes the movie a lot worse, because they’ve identified the market segment that likes to laugh at them, then the contract is broken.  It’s a cheat.  This movie, even with Debbie Gibson playing someone with a washed-up career, is a fake bad movie.  Which doesn’t mean it’s any good.

We Need a New Word for Bad Movies

Calling a movie “bad” doesn’t tell me very much, and is unlikely to keep me from going.  There are many ways in which a movie might be bad.

There’s “Snakes on a Plane” bad.  The badness is actually the genre, and the title tells us what to expect.  The genre has certain rules and expectations, and this kind of bad movie can be done well or poorly.  Snakes on a Plane hit all the right notes, so people called it bad.  By which they meant it was a very well done “bad” movie.

There’s “Crank: High Voltage” bad.  You throw plot out the window, along with a good dose of physics, probability, and narrative logic.  But what you replace it with is a bunch of crazy, unpredictable events that, somehow, fit.  The movie is considered bad because it doesn’t have the things a good movie is supposed to.  But it has so much other awesomeness stuck into every possible corner that it really doesn’t matter.

There’s Sci-Fi Channel original bad.  These movies are formulaic, yet fail to rise to the basic requirments of the formula.  Bad special effects, terrible acting, ridiculous scripting, and broken physics make you flat out angry.  Or you laugh.  But the movies are low-low budget, usually there’s at least a few actors who are trying hard.  If the bad guy/creature is evil enough, you cheer for them to get it, even though you know the whole thing sucks.

Then there’s Michael Bay.  Big-budget, crap gets blown up, plot-holes swallow whole planets.  Random stupid elements are stuck in, and CGI runs rampant.  You can sort of like Michael Bay because of that “awesome” commercial.  He’s a big kid who likes to blow things up, and he likes the piles of money we give him.  The first transformers movie, Armeggedon were pretty bad, but in a fun way.

But there are degrees of badness within the Michael Bay category.  Pearl Harbor was so bad they wrote a song about it.  And Transformers 2: ROTFL, hurt.  People say: “what did you expect?”  Well, the first movie was okay for a summer outing.  How did the second find it’s own special level?  The movie is not only rife with stolen scenes, questionable special effects, stereotyped racial robots, and random things-humping-other-things, it also laughs at us.  The viewers.  Michael Bay thinks we’re idiots.  He also thinks he can tell us he thinks we’re idiots, and we’ll still give him money.  We do.  This is a unique level of badness.  Nearly unique, Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull Disaster comes close.

Transformers 2: ROTFL (Review)

Last night I had a dream.  It was so scary, so soaked in anxiety, that it woke me up at around 4:30 a.m.  So maybe I should say I had a dream this morning.  It started off innocently enough.  I was standing in some kind of steep hall, with friends, watering the carpet with a garden hose.  Some kind of thing, it was either a polar bear or a malevolent ice cream truck, was playing around at the bottom.  Naturally, we hosed it.

The thing started coming up the carpeted hall, but fortunately I realized that if I kept spraying water it would lose its footing.  But I needed to have enough water.  (By this time the carpet had disappeared).  There was another, side hall, and the polar bear/ice cream truck would switch over and try coming up that side, but I quickly doused that as well.  It seemed clear that I couldn’t keep this up for long, though.  The only thing for it was to run.  But I’d left some of my clothes in an obscure locker somewhere and couldn’t quite get there in…

Everything changed.  The polar bear/ice cream truck that I had been keeping at bay was now a mobster.  He had invited me, and I was waiting around for the party to get going.  I didn’t much like this mobster, and he knew it.  He had some nefarious end planned for me, yet I couldn’t seem to leave.  Partly because my keys and suit jacket were now wherever those other missing clothes were before.  The party kept filling up with other sort-of-bad people.  I decided I would not go along with whatever they wanted, and failed to applaud when the bad hair guy won some kind of contest that involved matching air canisters with bottles of some kind of liquor.  He cheated by substituting a broken drill, but because he was a known mobster friend/important person, everyone clapped anyway.  Except me.  I knew, then, that I would have kill him, or he would kill me.

My friends didn’t understand the direness of the situation.  Mostly because, apparently, they hadn’t lost their car keys and suit jacket and could just leave.  I was not only trapped, but I had trapped myself.  I did not have the spirit it took to simply walk away from something that was going really badly, and could only get worse.  It was this overwhelming feeling of being trapped and yet being a contributor to my own state that woke me up.

Sometimes dreams don’t mean anything.  But a lot of stressful dreams go back to real-life situations.  There were clues here:

Whatever badness was happening, I had accepted it

I was surrounded by certain friends

Much of the dream was spent keeping something at Bay

The only thing that matched this was an unfortunate decision to see Transformer 2: Return Of The Friggin’ Losers (ROTFL).  Sitting through this movie violated even my normal willingness to watch trash.  After all, Michael Bay KNOWS IT SUCKS.  But he’s counting his money and laughing at us as we sit through it anyway.

There is one argument that this is actually a great movie.  It’s a great read, but it doesn’t require anyone to see the actual movie.  There’s another argument that this movie will doom future civilizations.  (Also a great read, but it does contain an inaccuracy about why someone went to the wrong theater).  But I think there’s a worse fate in store for us now.  We have willingly given up our money for something we knew would be bad, for something that turned out to be far worse than we imagined.  Now we will wait in our little cubbyholes while vast sums are dedicated to the making of Transformers 3.

Virtuality: Pilot or Movie?

Fox ran a “movie” called Virtuality tonight.  Produced by Ronald Moore, the genius who crafted Battlestar Galactica, I thought it would be worth a look.  It skitters dangerously close to rehashing things that have been done well already, but there is a core of original thought going on here.  In fact, if things evolve in directions different than the obvious, this could turn out to be great.  With Ronald Moore behind it, you have to allow for that possibility.

It does steal from some good movies.  The opening scene is an obvious reworking of the Outlaw Jose Wales.  Several scenes evoke 2001, and Solaris is also hanging over the whole thing.  The downside is, as several internet commentors pointed out, the Star Trek holodeck.  Almost every holodeck episodes was bad.  The pure invention of the holodeck was an acknowledgement that the writers were running out of ideas.  But, if virtual reality was introduced a different way, somehow making sense in the story, it worked even in Star Trek.  One of the best episodes had Kirk, Spock, McCoy and a couple others trapped in a replay of the OK corral.  Except they were on the losing side, and they knew it.

The thing about Virtuality is that it doesn’t work as a movie.  Most of the time is spent introducing characters, then introducing a couple plot elements, and staggering around one decision, which we always knew.  But it didn’t end, not really.  The official story is that it was written as a pilot, but Fox nixed the deal and aired it as a stand-alone.  But it’s not a stand-alone, even a Fox exec knows that.  Fox may be evil, but they specialize in satisfying television audiences.  This did not.

My theory is that Fox knows people will want more.  They want to buy the show, but to make it a success, they want to be pressured into it.  Create a fan-base, a buzz, a demanding group of outsiders.  They’re willing to be the bad guys, so that we can force them to do something in a way that makes them another pile of money.  And if it doesn’t work, they aren’t out much, just a Friday night movie that did okay.

Religion as genre

Just because I don’t attend church doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate religions.  I like religions.  I like spirituality, and for most people the best place to find that is in church.  (or equivalent).  What I don’t like is the “one true” mentality.  The Bible clearly says that God wants everyone to make it.  (see parable of the shepherd, among others).  If this is true, why would God act like a bad D & D dungeon master, creating one safe door and a bunch of doors that lead to certain doom?  With no way for an average person to decide which one is correct?

Face it, most people choose the religion they get from their parents.  And some people, naturally, try to find the exact opposite.  A few go adrift, then wander into some church led by friends or potential romance.  Nobody actually sits down and does comparison shopping, using analytic tools to ascertain the one true religion.  People who claim to have done so inevitably either decided on the church they were raised in, or the one with the prettiest girls.   Presumably God knows this is what would happen, so judging people on their failure to do this makes no sense.  Therefore, every religion that makes this claim is wrong, at least to that extent.

I also used to believe that religions had really fundamental differences.  Christianity was the “only” religion that allowed for salvation through mercy.  Islam had five pillars, including total service to God.  Buddhaism is the only religion that really understands the denial of the self.  Etc.  But now I think that any story about the relationship between God and man can be told within any religion.  The differences have more to do with temperment and culture.

Movie genres behave the same way.  You can tell a story about guilt and redemption as a romantic comedy (Wedding Crashers), an action movie (The Untouchables), a horror movie (The Exorcist), or as a Western (The Searchers).  Each genre has its own symbols, conventions, and appeals to a far different crowd, but central human themes are available in each.  And, naturally, there are some people who feel that one genre is the one, true means of expression.  Having said this, I reserve the right to bash the idea of Romantic Comedy at any point in the future.