Noah

Afronosky's Noah resembles the Biblical account of his life and exploits in a roughly analogous manner to how the original Clash of the Titans resemble the story of Perseus--and it's all the more gameable for it.

Like the Biblical narrative, the film takes place in a mythic Antediluvian past, though the film's is decidedly post-apocalyptic with barren landscapes thanks to rapaciousness of the descendants of Cain. All in that roughly made yet unusually modern-looking clothing seen in post-Apocalypse's from the Planet of the Apes TV show to Waterworld. Noah and his fellow descendants of Seth have been hunted and killed by bands of the more technologically advanced tribes of Cain. Noah is the last survivor, trust trying to hideout with his wife and kids, living a low-impact, vegetarian lifestyle.

Then the Creator decides he's had enough. He starts sending Noah prophetic dreams (Noah's gets a bit of help in interpreting these after (possibly) being slipped an entheogenic brew by his grand-dad, Methuselah). There's going be a world-killing flood, and he's got to build a boat.

Noah gets some help from the Watchers, imprisoned in giant, rocky forms, and a the last seed from the Garden of Eden, which grows an instant forest for lumber. Then the odd, not-quite-the-animals-we-know, start showing up in droves.

All does not go smooth though, as hordes of human refugees under the command of the warrior-king, Tubal-cain show up to try and storm the ark, and Noah's wifeless son begins to have second thoughts about this "only family left on earth" thing.

I won't spoil the ending, but I suspect you know how it turns out.

While a lot of this film is devoted to the sort of drama than Afronosky is typically known for, a lot of the elements the film adds to the tale seem like the sort of thing Jack Kirby would have done, even if they're not wrapped in typical Kirby presentation: fiery angels trapped in misshapen rock bodies, a post-Apocalyptic prehistory, zohar stones that provide light and fire.

If it's more your thing, there's also a graphic novel version.

Smaug and his Desolation in 48 fps and 3-D

I saw The Hobbit II: The Legend of Smaug's Gold this weekend (in faux-IMAX, high frame frate, and 3-D for the full Jackson). There are no doubt a number of negative reviews out there and a number of positive ones, so you can mix and match or pick what goes with your preconceptions. Rather than trying to persuade you one way or another from an overall perspective, I'll just say: 1) it is not (as you're already aware if you saw the first one) Tolkein's Hobbit, particularly; and 2) it's got  swashbuckling action set-pieces in the Pirates of the Caribbean or Lone Ranger (2013) vein.

That out of the way, I'm going to talk about things I like about the movie that might be worth stealing for gaming.

Overall, Mirkwood and the fortress of the wood elves made me wish that Guillermo del Toro had directed, as I think he would have given them both a fairy tale-ish feel that would have been visual interesting and perhaps more in keeping with the book. However, Lee Pace's haughty and fay King Thranduil is pretty much spot on. There's a part where he let's his glamour slip and allows Thorin to see the scars he bears from fighting a dragon that does evoke elves of fairy tales or legendry that was a really good bit.

My another nice bit was Laketown. It evokes a very different feel from the Laketown of the book, but it's given a look sort of like a ramshackle Medieval Russian version of Venice. It's people are multi-ethnic and have clothing styles mixing the vaugely slavic, Tibetian, and even a bit of Mongol thrown in, but blended pretty well. It's Master is a rather Terry Gilliam-esque bumbling noble, equipped with a suitable obsequious assistant. The coldness, squalor, and police state ubiquitous informer culture the Master oversees, seems to be meant to evoke Soviet era Russia. The whole evoke is utterly un-Tolkeinian, but very interesting as a potential gaming locale.

After all of that, the movie finally arrives at Lonely Mountain and a solitary dragon. Smaug is menacingly portrayed (vocally) by Benedict Cumberbatch. The cgi design is nice, too; there's a little bit of Dragonslayer there, I think. Smaug's treasure horde is ridiculously large. There most be no more gold in all of Middle-Earth. As Dunsany would say: "Their hoard is beyond reason; avarice has no use for it." The encounter with Smaug in this treasure den does remind one how frightening dragons ought to be, something that has been lost a bit with their perfunctory appearance in fantasy games.

Desolation of Smaug isn't a book brought to life or even a great achievement in cinema, but there are things is in it to like and nice details to appreciate.

Weekend Matinee

Hammer of the Gods, despite sharing a title with a Led Zeppelin band biography, does not have a single Led Zeppelin song in it--not even "Immigrant Song." Actually, the Doors might have been more appropriate, as Hammer of the Gods is essentially Viking Apocalypse Now. That's a bit of a spoiler, I suppose, but one that will hopefully make you more likely to check out the film.

It's 871 CE and the Vikings trying to conquer lands in the British Isles have hit a setback with their king mortally wounded. He sends one of his sons Steinar on a quest to seek his exiled older brother Hakan and return with a suitable king for their people. The journey will take him across hostile Saxon territory through the deaths of friends and allies and straight into (heh) the heart of darkness.

The film might could have used some of the more artsy direction of Nicholas Refn's Valhalla Rising--then again, maybe its more straightforward action flick first half makes where it's going more of a pleasant surprise.

Bounty Killer isn't as heavy. In a post-apocalyptic future, bounty killers deliver grim (if it wasn't so humorous) justice to the white collar war criminals that brought the world to its current state. Few bounty killers are more successful than the enigmatic Drifter and celebrated Mary Death.  A conspiracy puts the two at odds and leads to a chase across the devastated wastes to confront the secretive rulers, the Council of Nine. 

Bounty Killer plays out like Cowboy Bebop crossed with Mad Max--with a dose of 80s British comic book gallows humor. For what must be a fairly low budget film, it's got good action sequences and a chase scene out of the Road Warrior. Plus, they had to pay Gary Busey's no-doubt exorbitant fee for his small roll.

It also introduces the concept of the "gun caddy"--a henchman for our time (well, the post-apocalyptic future). Barak Hardley steals the show as the would-be best gun caddy in the world, unobtrusively slipping magazines into empty guns or producing new weapons when needed from a dufflebag.

Of course, there's also Christian Pitre as Mary Death to like about the movie: 

Cast in Ruin: A Taxonomy of Post-Apocalypses

This week, Charlie Jane Anders wrote an article about the disappearance of the "advanced civilization fallen to barbarism" story that used to be so prevalent in popular genre media. She considers a couple of reasons, one of which is that it has been supplanted by the post-apocalyptic story.  That got me thinking about whether those sorts of stories might be related in some way, and that led me to hypothesize a taxonomy of post-apocalyptic tales.

The first thing to consider is: Did the apocalypse happen to the viewpoint characters or their culture or did it happen to someone else?

Happened to the viewpoint characters/their culture:

If it happened recently you're dealing with a standard post-apocalyptic (or perhaps apocalyptic, if it's ongoing) tale. Examples would include The Walking Dead, I Am Legend, and Night of the Comet, just to name a few.

If it happened in the remote past, then we're dealing with post-apocalyptic fantasy like Thundarr or the Heiro novels of Sterling Lanier. There is a variant where the apocalypse is really slow moving: the dying earth story. It's tempting not to consider these post-apocalyptic stories at all, except for the fact that at least some of them (the Zothique tales of Clark Ashton Smith and The Night Land by William Hope Hodgson, to give a couple of examples) seem very concerned with pointing out how things are winding down to their inevitable end.

Happened to someone else:
If the apocalyptic event happened recently, and the viewpoint characters have arrived to discover this, we're probably dealing with a science fiction mystery or horror narrative. The Star Trek episode "Miri" probably falls into this category. (Some will protest that the apocalypse in "Miri" hardly counts as recent, being hundreds of years ago. I'd argue the extremely slow aging of the surviving children and the resemblance of the fallen culture to the culture of Star Trek's reviewers in the sixties, gives the story an immediacy that it's internal chronology doesn't reflect.)

If the fall is a remote event, then the "civilization fallen to barbarism" story comes into play (showing up in numerous Star Trek episodes like "Omega Glory" and "Spock's Brain" and as a backdrop in a lot of lost world or planetary romance fiction). If the civilization is mostly gone, but it's influence can still be felt, we're probably out of the post-apocalyptic genre and into science fiction, horror or a combination of the two--but not necessarily. The science fiction and/or horror option is exemplified by works like At The Mountains of Madness, Forbidden Planet, Quatermass and the Pit, and (again) a number of Star Trek episodes like "That Which Survives."

The stories in this category I would consider as in the post-apocalyptic genre itself would be of the "cautionary tale" or "sins of the past" sort. Ralph Bakshi's Wizards fits here, as do two unusual, effective, and Oscar nominated Christmas cartoons from MGM: Peace on Earth (1939) and Good Will to Men (1955).

There are less clear-cut stories that are inbetween these two poles. In this group are stories where the relationship of the viewpoint characters (or the viewer) to the apocalypse or the occurrence of the apocalypse, itself, is saved for a reveal at the end. The original Planet of the Apes is a classic example here, but Teenage Cave Man (1958) also fits the bill.

Also, we can place many so-called "Shaggy God" stories here, as the apocalypse leads to an Adam and Eve scenario. The Twilight Zone episode "Probe 7, Over and Out" is practically the archetypal version of this tale, but it has turned up as recently as Battlestar Galactica (2004).

Giant Monster Battles

As a wise blogging compañero has already opined: if the basic conceit of Pacific Rim seems like something you would like, you should see it.

Now with that out of the way, let's talk about the gaming potential of the setup. Of course, there's the eminently gameable setting of the film--particular in the 7 year period where humankind is holding off the kaiju threat. But we don't have to stop there.

Maybe the kaiju wind up just occupying certain territory?  The comic limited series Giant Killer by Dan Brereton posits just this sort of scenario. It also offers a wider variety of kaiju (and kaiju categories) than Pacific Rim.

Of course, that sort of situation could easily lead to a post-apocalyptic scenario were kaiju devastate and occupy more and more of the world. In the most pessimistic case, this could lead to something resembling The Night Land, where surviving humans hold out in a last redoubt and sally forth to fight for a lost cause. A less grim version might see humanity escaping to orbital habitats and sending their best mecha pilots to earth to fight to reclaim territory--something akin to Gundam G, but without the tournament element.

That's just off the top of my head. In sure there are a lot more ways to get those robots fighting giant monsters.

The Man of Steel

I have a couple of friends whose primary request for a new Superman movie is that "Superman punch stuff" (action of that sort being in short supply in Singer's Superman Returns and Donner's Superman, too). I can unequivocally say the Man of Steel delivers in that department, that's not the only thing to like here. This new origin story for Superman follows on the heels of Nolan's Dark Knight films are delivers a pretty well-crafted film that just happens to be about a superhero rather than  working primarily on spectacle to disguise a lacking script--not that there isn't a lot of spectacle.

The film starts on Krypton. It's take has little references to several recent versions: Byrne's Man of Steel, Silver Age stories, and stuff more recent. There's also a bit of Russian cosmism and post-Alien techno-organic look. The headgear of the ruling council of Krypton reminds me a lot of Aelita.

When we get to Earth. Baby Kal-El is grown into an adult Clark Kent, set apart from the rest of humanity and drifting like Hugo Danner in Wylie's Gladiator. His growing up in Smallville is delivered in flashbacks interspersed throughout. Some reviewers have felt this made the film feel disjointed but I wasn't bothered by it. Lois Lane and Phantom Zone criminals appear in short order, making this film feel like it has a shorter ramp up than a lot of other origin stories to me.

There are some changes to the Superman mythos (as if there was one unified version) that may bother some people. Jonathan Kent's portrayal, for instance, seems to be the many thing people have a problem with--though I don't think that's the biggest change.

The film is very serious; it's definitely in a different vein than the Marvel films. It works, but it could have had a few more bits of levity without much changing the weightiness they seemed to be going for. The film's palette is muted: from Krypton to Kansas there isn't anything colorful here. Several reviewers have said the action sequences sometimes go on a bit too long, and I can see that (though I really wasn't bothered by it), but what really got to me was how many bystanders were probably killed off-screen in all the destruction. This breezy attitude toward mass destruction is a trend in summer (uh, spring) blockbusters in general, so it's not flaw of Man of Steel alone, but I still feel like it's a flaw.

So anyway, that's my take. Check it out.

The Reboot and Its Application

Like a lot of other people, I caught Star Trek: Into Darkness over the weekend. My capsule review: If you liked the first one as you watched it you will probably like this one as you watch it. If you liked the first one, you probably also experienced an increasing irritation with it the more you thought about it in the hours and days that followed. I suspect that will be you experience with this one.

Anyway, I don't want to talk about Into Darkness so much as the application of things like changes continuity in one way or another in rpg settings. Certainly, there are examples of retcons and reboots in published rpg settings; I'm more interested in what people do in their own homemade settings.

I suspect mild retcons are pretty common in long running campaigns. A little change in some aspect of setting when the GM gets a better idea never really hurt anybody--particularly if the PCs haven't even directly interacted with it yet. If they have, it gets a little trickier, but if G+ posts are any indication, settings are sort of continuous works in progress, even well after play starts.

I don't know about anybody else, but I've engaged in wholesale rebooting of one setting for much of my D&D career. The world of Arn (that I started this blog discussing) has elements that go back to junior high, though its gone through 3 map changes, place name changes (and sometimes back again), and conceptual shifts from vaguely backgrounded generic D&D world, detailed pastiche of Leiber, Howard, and Burroughs, synthesis of those S&S elements with whatever historical period I was interested in at the moment (from Ancient Rome to the 16th Century), and so on.

All of these permutations could be seen as just cannibalizing old ideas for economy of imagination, except that some of the same characters and background elements have been consistent pretty much the whole time--though their presentations have changed. The founders of one of the main cities in the world(s), have gone from actual PCs, to historical personages, to likely mythological characters.

Not only does this sort of thing save work, but I think it can allow for some of the depth of background that comes from a long-running campaign without actually having run a continuous campaign for all that time.

Iron Men

I saw Iron Man 3 last night. It was enjoyable; along the level of Iron Man 2, I would say--so judge that how you will. It certainly took an interesting approach in that there was a lot of "iron" and a lot of "man," but seldom did the two come together in the usual way.

The Party Dies at the End

John Dies at the End is a "horror comedy" from Don Coscarelli based on the book of the same name. It's supposedly going to get a theatrical release this year, but I decided not to chance it ever playing in this podunk town, so I watched it on Amazon's video on demand.

Spoiler: The title is misleading--but in a way, it reflects the fractured narrative of at least part of the film. The plot can be summarized pretty easily: Two slackers wind up taking a strange drug ("soy sauce") they got from a fake Jamaican that expands their consciousness and allows them to perceive and combat extradimensional, supernatural horrors, lurking in our world. The film is part trippy drug narrative, part body horror, and part black comedy like if Evil Dead 2 was a bit more like Clerks.

It's also great rpg fodder. I think you could easily get a game of Unknown Armies out of it, or maybe an unusual game of Call of Cthulhu. It's got a premise and setting in the Lovecraftian mode (or maybe Clark Ashton Smithian) with totally unlovecraftian heroes and tone.

It would also be interesting to run a modern D&Dish game like this: A weird drug opens the doors to Narnia (or Moria) located right here but hidden by virtue being on a different vibrational frequency. Maybe under the influence of the drug, slacker twenty-somethings brave the maze co-occurring with the steam tunnels beneath their university and do battle with very deadly monsters--and try not to freak out in the process?

New Flavors of Frankenstein

I’ve got Frankenstein on the brain after catching TCM’s Frankenstein Double Feature last night. Anybody who has read Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein knows the literary monster is pretty different from (most) cinematic and comic book versions.  Why should we be limited to just mute and misunderstood or articulate and angry in our rpgs, though?  What other creatures can some alternate Victor Frankenstein bring to life?

Movie Frankenstein's monster is often a lumbering and destructive brute--and often misunderstood.  He reminds me a bit of King Kong in all except size.  Scale him up, and you’ve got a kaiju. The Japanese have already done that for us, but hey, we don’t necessarily have to use their version. (Actually, Toho got the idea from an aborted Willis O'Brien project with King Kong.) Now Victor’s got an even better reason not to make him a bride!

Or maybe something less monstrous? A gold-skinned artificial man created by scientists playing God would also describe Marvel’s Adam Warlock (originally known as HIm). Maybe their creation is actually mankind’s natural successor.  Gotta make way for the homo superior, as Bowie would have it. This artificial ubermensch and his bride (and progeny) might choose to save the world that hates and fears them, or maybe (in the words of Victor Frankenstein) they’re  a “race of devils…propagated upon the earth who might make the very existence of the species of man a condition precarious and full of terror.”

Vampire Hunter D heads straight from Dracula into the post-apocalypse (and in an interesting twist, Mary Shelley did write an end of the world novel, The Last Man), so why not Frankenstein? Maybe the monster is a gunman dispensing justice in a post-apocalyptic waste haunted by mutants as ugly as him, or maybe the world is overrun zombie apocalypse-style by monstrosities created by a monster following in the footsteps of his mad scientist creator? Either the future might be pretty grim.

In the Loop

I caught Looper this weekend. It’s a time travel flick from Rian Johnson.  It reminds me the most of things like 12 Monkeys (and by extension  La jetée). While it’s not as interesting or innovative as Johnson’s high school hardboiled detective story, Brick, Looper has it’s own unique angle with its evocation of the dystopian future where criminals use time travel just for hits.

Closer to home, in a nearby but shadowy corner of the blogosphere, Jack Shear has released the second volume of Tales of the Grotesque and Dungeonesque (which he subtitles Expert Grotesques and Dungeonesques). Like the first, this volume compiles some excellent posts from Jack’s blog and some new material. He has some neat stuff from his own setting The Worlds Between and also some tools to help evoke the gothic touch in any setting.  Check out the pdf for free and get your hardcopy on Lulu.

The Dark Knight Rises

The Dark Knight Rises ends Christopher Nolans Batman trilogy and presents the most coherent story arc in a series of superhero films so far.  While the Marvel and previous DC efforts have mostly been isolated adventures with a few through lines, Nolan and his collaborators have crafted something a bit more novelistic.  This culmination of the trilogy reaps the harvest of seeds sown way back in Batman Begins and (if perhaps only in a subtle and incomplete way) challenges the very notion that “being the superhero” is actually the best thing the protagonist could be doing with his life.

TDKR begins by dealing with the consequences of the previous film.  The ending of The Dark Knight, I had interpreted as just a set-up for further adventure, but instead has led to a Gotham with increased police powers and no need for Batman.  This victory is hollow for its two architects (Jim Gordon and Bruce Wayne) because it’s based on a lie.

They don’t have to fret too long about that though, because (as Selena “Catwoman” Kyle) quips to Bruce: “a storm is coming.”  That would be a bulked up Tom Hardy as Bane: a bruiser with a needlessly complicated plan and a weird (but engaging, to me at least) mechanically altered voice.  Pretty soon, the Dark Knight returns, but only to face a beat down at Bane’s hands and a Knightfall. Then, Bane isolates Gotham and makes it a No Man’s Land, that the U.S. government fears to intrude on.

TDKR weaves a lot of elements from various Batman storylines (more than I’ve mentioned above) into a coherent enough for a superhero film whole. There are Nolan twists along the way that are not really surprising if one knows the comic sources, but are still dramatically satisfying.  The only quibble with one of them is that Batman’s world’s greatest detective skills are hardly in evidence.

The film isn't without problems.  The villain’s plot is pretty convoluted and has some logic flaws,which may bug some people. It is a looonngg movie, and there are some things that could have been trimmed.  The Bale scratchy Bat-voice is still in evidence--though I’ve gotten use to it after three films.

It doesn’t offer the “fun” of the Avengers or The Amazing Spider-Man, and it probably isn’t as genre expanding as the film proceeding it, but TDKR delivers on the promise of The Dark Knight by giving a dramatically solid payoff to that film and a strong ending to the series.

Make Them Choose How They Die

Cabin in the Woods is a really good film--though perhaps not so much as a horror film as a meditation on horror films and their audience. Anyway, go see it, and then we’ll talk. What I’m going to do instead of review the movie is suggest some ways it could influence a dungeoncrawl sort of game.

Though I’m not going to spoil specific film events directly, I’ll reveal some plot points indirectly, so if you want your viewing experience to be pristine, beware:


Related to the "Theseus vs. the Minotaur" setup of Hunger Games, what if the adventures aren’t gladiators but just sacrifices? Sacrifices that have the means to fight back of course, but not intended by the Powers That Be to survive. Unlike Minos's labyrinth, where the monster is the same (and there’s only one of them), the Powers let the monsters and window-dressing (dungeon-dressing?) get chosen by character choice.

There's a room full of artifacts--items--most of them magical, though not in the useful sort of way, probably. The characters chose one (though they probably don’t know the real choice they’re making)--and that choice sets up the theme of the dungeon.

Of course, all the different themes and all the different monsters exist there, somewhere, ready to go when called upon. The PC’s might well discover these other options in the course of the campaign, including perhaps the “storage area” for all the monsters.

It’s a setup with a lot of possibilities. A megadungeon more like the titular Cube that the traditional linear layers--and with a overall malign purpose for player’s to uncover. If they survive.

Titans, Wrathful and Otherwise

 

Based on the previews I was hoping Wrath of the Titans would be a bit better than its predecessor, the 2010 remake of Clash of the Titans. Unfortunately, it largely has the virtues and flaws of the first film. It has a couple of interesting locales (a forest filled with traps and cyclopes, and Tartarus as an ever-shifting labyrinth), but overall it has less spectacle than the "similar in plot but more visually interesting in a stagey way" Immortals (2011).

If you’re looking for rpg inspiration in the area of titans (clashing or wrathful), I’d suggest forgoing all these films and checking out John C. Wright’s fantasy trilogy, "The Chronicles of Chaos" (Orphans of Chaos (2005), Fugitives of Chaos (2006), Titans of Chaos (2007). The series tells the story of five unusual orphans, who have lived their lives as the sole attendees at a British boarding school. It turns out that the five teens aren’t orphans at all, but hostages, securing a truce in the primal war between the Prelapsarian Titans and the Cosmos created by the renegade Cronus. Of course, the teens escape.

The five titan children each wield a different magical paradigm: Quentin practices sorcery and treats with spirits, Colin has the psychic ability to make reality conform to his will, Victor can manipulate matter on a molecular level, Amelia can perceive and tweak higher order dimensions, and Vanity can create doors and has a magic boat. The paradigms (and the paradigms of their foes, the Olympians) act in a “rock, paper, scissors” fashion that is not only clever but eminently gameable.

Wright’s modern world of hidden mythological beings has some resemblance to similar media, but he works with things in fresh ways. Grendel’s mother is the “mother of monsters” Echidna. The master artificer Telchines are more or less robots. The Laegystronians are literally Martians.

While the series seems ready made for something like White Wolf’s Scion (though Wright initially came up with the idea for a campaign in the Amber rpg), there are rich details that could be swiped for almost any game.

John Carter and a Princess of Mars

...Should have been the title of Disney's new film other than just John Carter.  I saw the film last night and recommend it.  It is good exactly in the way sci-fi spectacle adventure films generally are; in other words, its entertaining, but not something you're going to go see for sparkling dialog or deep characters.  If you've read the books, you'll like it.  If you haven't, but you enjoy the aforementioned sort of film, you probably will, too.

The film takes Burroughs's more rambling (if such a short novel can ramble) and episodic novel and weaves it into a more linear plot, which is largely to the good.  Likewise, the script-writers update of Dejah Thoris to an action and science heroine is well done.  She winds up definitely being the "smart one" in her relationship with Carter.  The Green Men (a term never used in the film; they only refer to themselves by their tribes, leading many reviewers to think they're race is called "Tharks") are pretty well-realized and surprisingly true to the books in terms of culture without the film be exposition-heavy (in this regard).

There are a lot of thinks I would have liked to see done different.  The opening prologue/introduction with convoluted layers of narrative, is the clunkiest part of the film.  It winds up having a flashback within a flashback/framing sequence.  They could have gotten all those elements in, but streamlined it.  Dialogue could always be a bit punchier in these sorts of things, and the mean of some terms could have been better conveyed to the uninitiated.  While the costume design or the design for the Green Men aren't exactly what I would have wanted, they turn out okay, and are really just different choices.  The design of the Martian cities, though, seems to be a bit of a misstep as it's rather plain and block, and exhibits no particular sense of wonder. Faithful woola hit the right notes, but the comedy doggishness of the character could have been dialed back from "11" to a "8-9."

Still, some of my quibbles can reasonably be seen as those of a fan who would never be completely happy with any adaptation.  My main point is, if your on the fence because of the negative press, you shouldn't be.

Chronicle

Chronicle (now in theaters) tells the story of three teenagers that encounter something crystalline (maybe something from the movie version of Krypton given its appearance) that seems burrowed underground. This strange event leads them to developing super-powers--specifically telekinesis at a fairly powerful level.  After some exuberant experimentation and sophmoric goofing around, Lord Acton's aphorism plays out in the way expected by anyone who's familiar with "Where No Man Has Gone Before", The Korvac Saga, or Zapped!.

Chronicle is a found footage sort of film, but this is better handled than a lot of other films of this type.  While the movie would probably have worked just as well without it, it adds a first person immediacy to the display of super-powers that someone makes it seem more real.  The flight sequences in particular seem to capture a bit of what it would feel like to fly moreso maybe any other superhero film.  Chronicle's final battle (informed, I think, by Akira and possibly Alan Moore's Marvelman) isn't quite as flashy as what you see in more typical superhero films, but it has a visceralness they often lack.

So how might Chronicle inform gaming?  Well, it seems well-suited as fodder for a "super-powers in the real world" sort of supers game, like Mutants & Masterminds: Paragons or the more grounded mechanics of GURPS Supers. That would be the obvious inspiration.

I think Chronicle might give some inspiration for fantasy gaming, too.  A lot of the wonder and horror that surely would be evoked by the sort of power wielded by rpg mages is blunted by its ubiquity (Harry Potter) or drown out by the surrounding worldbuilding (The Lord of the Rings films).  It might be worth thinking about this some to see if there's a way the "more than motal"-ness of magic-users can be portrayed.  Also, the power corrupting trope is perhaps under-utlized in fantasy.  Maybe there are so many evil wizards because corruption is an occupational hazard?  If so, how would that effect how adventuring parties view their resident mage?

In This Thrilling Episode...

If you have an interest in hero pulps or movie serials, you'll want to check out Curse of the Phantom Shadow on Kickstarter.  It's a film project by Mark Ross that's an homage to exactly those sorts of media.  Here's an excerpt from the synopsis:

The year is 1948 and the United States has a new enemy, The Phantom Shadow. This dark figure has diabolical plans for captured scientist Dr. Hammond and his War Department weapons of mass destruction. When the Phantom Shadow launches a missile attack on key locations in the United States, the government takes action.


There is only one man to call: elite government operative, Agent 236!  Agent 236 is dispatched to rescue Hammond and stop the Phantom Shadow's nerfarious plans.

Check out an excerpt on the project page here.  It's fun and looks like a labor of love for all involved.

You Might Not Be Afraid of the Dark

I saw the long-awaited (I attended a teaser panel on it at Comic-Con in 2010) remake of Don’t be Afraid of the Dark this weekend. It was directed by Troy Nixey (the artist on Dark Horse’s Jenny Finn) but bears the obvious stamp of script-writer and producer Guillermo del Toro.

In brief, both versions involve a couple moving into an old house where a basement fireplace ash-pit door is opened and tiny, malevolent creatures are released (these are, as Roger points out, the obvious inspiration for Fiend Folio’s meenlocks). The creatures set their sights on the one who freed them--a young housewife in the original, a little girl in the remake--and cajole then terrorize before making their move.

The remake has better special effects and more atmosphere, but doesn’t have the same sort of unsettling, ruthless economy of the original. Of course, I saw the original when I was much younger, so it might not evoke the same dread in someone seeing it as an adult for the first time. The remake seems like Nixey and del Toro set out to make a film that could scar the psyches of a new generation of kids, but the MPAA stymied that a bit with an R-rating.

Many of the changes are del Toro’s usual preoccupations. The creatures of the film are explicitly fairies and they have a taste for teeth (recalling the “tooth fairies” of Hellboy II). The grounds of the Blackwood Manor recall Pan’s Labyrinth. These additions at once lessen the horror but add some depth by explicitly connecting it to the traditions of horror fiction and authors like Machen (who gets namechecked in the film).

If you like the work of del Toro or have fond memories of the original TV movie you probably should check this one out.  It just probably won't deliver the chills you remember back in the '70s.

VHS Swords & Sorcery

These days, kids getting into fantasy rpgs have a number of film and TV influences to draw from should our increasingly post-literate world make Appendix N unpalatable. There have even been D&D movies! If we want to stick with quality examples we’ve had the Lord of the Rings films and the D&D-without-the-name Record of Lodoss War, not to mention things like Harry Potter that (while not Medieval) have plenty of magic.

Such was not the case back the eighties. We had to savor what sword and spell films we had, however dubious their merits. Sure, we had several great films from Harryhausen, various Arthurian adaptations, and Bakshi’s Lord of the Rings and Fire and Ice. The quality tended drop off pretty precipitously after the top tier, though, but even those films were invested with extra magic due to their spotty availability on home video.

Some of those fantasy not quite classics that inspired my friends and I back in the day are still rare. I only got one chance to watch Archer: Fugitive from the Empire when it aired in 1981. I’ve been forced to rely only on my dim childhood memories of this sub-Hawk the Slayer “gem” about a young hero with a magic bow who teams up with thief and the daughter of a goddess to seek revenge on an evil wizard. It used to be on youtube (though now its been removed), but I suspect it still lurks out their on the internet in all its made for TV glory.

The Warrior and the Sorceress has David Carradine and plentiful bare breasts going for it--though admittedly only one of those things was uncommon in the post-Conan barbarian invasion. This film makes the provocative proposal that Yojimbo and Fist Full of Dollars would be improved with a four-breasted stripper assassin. I’ll let you judge for yourself whether it makes its case.

Staying in the realm of Boris Vallejo posters and bare breasts (which seems to Argentina, based on where these movies were made) we come to Barbarian Queen. I don’t think it actually provided much gaming inspiration for us, really--and its lack of magic and ancient Rome setting make it technically not a fantasy--but it had other charms that made these deficits easy to overlook in that early gaming era.

It looks like later this month we'll all get the change to revisit these Argentine/American epics in the company of the first two Deathstalker films when Roger Corman's Cult Classics brings them to DVD.

Apes on the Rise

Rise of the Planet of the Apes is, of course, a prequel (or a prequel to a reboot) of Planet of the Apes. It ignores (or perhaps replaces is a better word--there are a lot of sly references) the history of the end of the world of man and the rise of the--well, you know--given in Conquest and Battle for the Planet of the Apes. Anyone who knows me (and maybe anybody who reads this blog) knows I’m a fan of the original film series, so prequels or reboots of it attract my interest. The Burton remake had good ape effects, a similar sly humor to the original, and a soundtrack by Elfman that had some nice elements of homage to Goldsmith’s brilliant, experimental score for the first film. Unfortunately, beyond that, there wasn’t much to like. It wasn’t horrible; it was just flat.

Rise is not that. While on the surface it's a different sort of story than the original Planet of the Apes, it’s events parallel the first film's in interesting ways. Heston’s Taylor was a man trapped in a world not his own; so is the genetically enhanced Caesar of this film. His response--sometimes horrified, sometimes pissed off--is pretty much the same.

Caesar shares the spotlight with scientist Will Rodman played by James Franco. Franco is a more convincing stoner than researcher, but he’s competent enough. The apes are the real stars, after all.

And those CGI primates are great. There are some scenes where you’d be hard pressed to tell the difference between them and the real thing. When they rampage though, they’re not as violent as real chimps--likely both a plot concession to ensure sympathy and a practical calculation to secure a PG-13 rating. Still, it’s cool to see the apes engage in a little guerilla (heh) warfare against the law, culminating in a battle on the Gold Gate Bridge.

Rise replaces the nuclear spectre of the Cold War with the modern bêtes noires of genetic engineering and global pandemics. Just like in the original film series, the protagonists are pretty much responsible for the destruction of the world, yet they remain sympathetic. That’s no mean feat.

So if you like the ape films, or like movies sympathetic to animals over cruel humans, or just like a good near-future sci-fi yarn, check Rise of the Planet of the Apes out.

If only they'd found a way to work in apes with coonskin hats. Maybe in the sequel?