Like they say, there’s no such thing as bad publicity. Actually, scratch that, I’d say having your country put a price on your head as they announce their attention to draw and quarter you would be very bad publicity indeed.
Good news! Your approval ratings are in!
Bad news! The government hates you!
Good news! The people don’t!
Bad news! That just means they’re indifferent!
Good news! It’ll make for a pretty fun story!
Bad news! Three other characters think you’re a bad guy and are now hunting you down!
For what it’s worth, J. Jonah Jameson will always think you’re a menace. Even if you’re from DC. Especially if you’re from DC.
Like the difference between watching a streamer play a game for its campaign mode, and watching a streamer play the Legend Rank multiplayer build.
Even with video. Even with the internet. Even with game streaming. Who would have EVER thought to put Dungeons & Dragons online? I mean, who would want to watch people roll dice, play at acting, and discuss rules instead of playing online card games and gladiatorial shooting grounds?
Turns out, quite a lot of people, if Critical Role’s 115+ episodes of their first season are anything to go by.
Why not take the easy way out and make them your usual can of exposition and training?
Very few characters actually make it on their own. Even as loners, they had to learn from somewhere. They had to have a teacher, someone to actually teach them to acquire the skills and traits the author arbitrarily assigned to them.
Someone like a magical talking animal. Or a grizzled washed out wizard. Or the city streets themselves.
Or, he’ll do that anime thing where he powers up spontaneously with his emotions.
He’s green. He’s mean. He’ll rupture your spleen. He’s powered by gamma rays, he’s got pecs for days. When he walks the earth will tremble, roadkill his enemies will resemble, everyone clench your buttcheeks and prepare for:
Like the majority of Japanese anime openings, the title makes absolutely no sense.
Yes! I actually review things! It wasn’t just a one time thing, I just happen to take my own sweet time getting around to things that are supposedly new! And yes, I enjoy videogames as well!
So, as one might surmise from the title, I’ll be giving my review of Horizon Zero Dawn, hopefully keeping it as spoiler-free as possible. Of course, I’m sure there’s no shortage of videogame journalism sites or random people on the internet proclaiming it’s a masterpiece, so what would I have to say about it?
That’s a really simple one: A review. I intend to tell what the game was, add my own impressions, and help you make an informed decision if you’re thinking of getting it.
After all, Charming Orphan Annie singing her way to a family is more optimistic than Malnourished Orphan Annie decrying the wealth gap created by the capitalist system.
Last week, I expressed the heretical opinion that Logan is excellent but miserable, a one-view-only masterpiece that is bereft of hope. This week, I thought I’d elaborate a bit more on just what hope means.
That’s a tall order, of course, just like it’s hard to express something that’s so subjective, as well as being a fundamental word, like trying to describe “hot” or “soft” without using those words. But perhaps there’s a way to narrow it down. Perhaps by grasping to explain, I can clear up the picture and feelings behind it for others. Just what IS hope in stories?
I don’t feel hopeful that they’ll beat the odds and succeed; I feel resigned to their deaths, and think it’d be nice if they met it with dignity.
Logan does a lot right. Well-paced, good balance of action and emotion, very elegant conservation of information that is transmitted smoothly in a plot-relevant way, all of which are difficult to achieve in any film, let alone an action-fantasy. Does a lot for the comic book movie genre to bring more mature storylines to light, along with all the other ‘serious fan’ pontifications. Proves that good writing can transcend genres and categories, surpassing supposed restrictions with creative execution.
In fact, there’s only one thing it fails to do: Make me happy.