Weak franchises

I was thinking that the movie franchise equivalent to Mega Man vs. Mega Man X (in terms of quality, disregarding that the two series are related) is probably Friday the 13th vs. Hellraiser. With Friday the 13th, you know exactly what you're going to get - it's never going to be particularly great or special, but it's never going to go off the rails either (except the one time it did, catastrophically, with Mega Man 8 GOES TO HELL). Hellraiser starts off genuinely great and hits one solid riff on that, takes a wrong turn but is still kind of tolerable for a few more entries*, completely jumps off a direct-to-video cliff by the fifth, and hangs around for four more things and a reboot that no one was asking for.

*I hated HELLRAISER: BLOODLINE ("in space") until I saw its pathetic shadow EVENT HORIZON.

Revisiting Jurassics Park

I guess I'm joining into the chorus of not really loving JURASSIC PARK? That's surprising. I'm a '90s kid I guess (born '88), and I remember it being a huge deal, but thinking (at that age) that the idea of a dinosaur theme park was really lame, and why not just make a real movie about dinosaurs, like LAND BEFORE TIME? As an adult I understand that the concept exists to be a lead-handed metaphor, although I can't say that adds to the appeal. On the other other hand, perhaps dinosaurs in the present day are a scarier concept that a fantasy about dinosaur world - horror being best defined as the invasion of the uncanny into normalcy.

Overall though the movie feels too much like Spielberg by numbers, and watching it fresh just a couple months ago, I was surprised how much of it I know by heart, because I went in thinking "surely there's more to this movie than I remember, because otherwise why would it be considered such a masterpiece?" The characters but for Hammond are paper-thin, and the hammed-up performances are enjoyable but don't exactly alleviate the superficiality. Then there's the fact that our protagonists are deliriously insane, declaring from the moment they hear the concept that Jurassic Park will lead to the apocalypse, unquestionably, and I think at one point I saw Michael Crichton lean into frame and wave. This will affect the sequels in both good and bad ways.

For all the quality execution, too much action is wasted on things that aren't dinosaurs (the car in the tree kinda galls me - it's an immaculately directed and edited sequence, heart-in-throat thrilling, but why are you wasting a set piece in your dinosaur movie on something that doesn't involve dinosaurs!), and even the dinosaur sequences feel incredibly limited - in a way that makes them memorable and scary, yes, but not in a way that takes advantage of the concept and makes for an exciting adventure. A T-rex attacks a car, a brachiosaurus sneezes on a little girl, velociraptors in the kitchen, T-rex smashes T-rex fossil, roll credits. Spielberg is too locked into his idea of a motion picture as a roller coaster for my taste - it works sometimes, and Jurassic Park is still good, but this formula worked a lot better with just a shark.

LOST WORLD I've only seen one-and-a-half times, because the second time I was so disinterested by the midpoint that I turned it off. All I can say is that the idea of centering the story on Doctor Ian Malcolm, a character whose prior existence was solely as a font of pop-science drivel, is a poor one that never stops feeling forced.

Which leaves JP3, the great unsung hero to come save the day and give us a fully satisfying experience. Yes it's dumb, yes it's far removed from the glamourous sheen of the first two, but it's competently and even breezily made, taking no time at all to declare what it's going to be doing with the next 90 minutes of your time. It's just actually unpredictable and fun in a way Spielberg never could be, because his entire career is staked on being The Sure Thing. Yet I can't but be amused as hell at the weird variety of second-tier dinos and the hilarious boldness of the raptor-talking-machine and the Tarzan-of-the-dinosaurs boy. Yup, the ending is dogshit, the cast is fine but forgettable, and some people will not like jokes about a kid jerking off a dinosaur (or something??). But it also has one inarguably great point, which is Sam Neill's better performance as Grant with a much better arc to permit it. Him screwing everything up and becoming a real downer is a great starting point, and we do something more interesting than reiterating the same "learns to love kids, barf" lesson. We see him correct the attitude and mistakes of the first movie and finally realize how wrong they all were at that first awkward dinner party.

(this comment prompted by the weekly podcast chat at the always great Alternate Ending)

Mega Man X7: The Final Trilogy

For hopefully the last time I ever publicly discuss Mega Man X7, let's talk about Mavericks. In the spirit of wonderfully creative portmanteau names, why not offer some alternates in the form of anagrams?

FLAME HYENARD
Okay, he's definitely a hyena, but what ends in "rd" or "ard" that would describe a mentally deranged dog-man who runs in circles and screams the word "burn" so frequently that he often can't make it through the first syllable without interrupting himself? Best anagram: Handle my fear!

VANISHING GUNGAROO
Pretty easy one here - it's a kangaroo who rides around in the front pouch of a giant mech (actually a clever way of integrating X's animal and ride-mech themes). The mech carries the Maverick like an Indian water-bearer carries his burden, thence Gunga Din + kangaroo = Gungaroo. Best anagram: Ongoing vagina rush.

SPLASH WARFLY
I was tempted to believe war fly could be an actual species, maybe one that was particularly recognized for hanging around the carnage of battlefields. I may have been thinking of the Black Fly. Why when you look up pictures of flies are they always perched on human skin? It's like we've encoded into the entire phylum this notion of personal intrusion. Someone oughta get these guys a microaggressions lawyer. A micro-lawyer? Best anagram: Wasps shall fry!

RIDE BOARSKI
Take away this motorcycle man's wheels and you bet you'll find him chasing his speed fix out on the slopes, skiing down the double black diamonds in record time. We've got all the bases covered and filled in quite a bit of backstory too. Best anagram: I broker AIDS. Hey, someone's gotta do it.

SNIPE ANTEATOR
The wise, veteran member of Red Alert's ensemble, nimbly picking apart his opponents' psychology with years of battle experience to draw upon. Thus the name must refer to Shakespeare's most famous poem, "To be, or not to be" - a question all foes looking to defeat Anteator will soon have to answer. Best anagram: Psion Anteater.

TORNADO TONION
Now presumably this is a contraction of a name that once had an apostrophe, like Darby from D'Arby, and historically our Tornado would hail from the T'Onion clan. I find myself picturing an African kingdom, where the T'Onions coexist alongside T'Carrots and T'Artagnans and T'Challas. Not particularly great anagram: Onto triad noon.

SOLDIER STONEKONG
I mean, I think we all know exactly what a Stonekong is. You've seen CONGO, I've seen CONGO; killer volcano apes are not something to be messed with. These guys would rip Donkey Kong's head off and serve it on a silver platter (which is just something they do with any dismembered body parts they have available). Best anagram: Gooks' tenderloins. I apologize for the slur, but you'll have to blame this one on Capcom.

WIND CROWRANG
For one thing, didn't we just have a wind-themed boss in this game? Secondably, isn't Tornado Tonion meant as a clever satire of the dozens of wind/bird Mavericks throughout the series? This seems to undercut that otherwise effective parody. Not to mention this is the hackiest portmanteau of the bunch. Seriously, fuck Wind Crowrang! No anagram!

Revisiting Mega Man X7

Finished the game this week, clocked in around 6 hours at a solid D hunter ranking (I did get a single C on Ride Boarski!). Luckily the game treats all time equally, whether or not it's paused, so if you take a mid-stage break, enjoy your automatic D. I guess it's true an elite Maverick Hunter wouldn't stop for a piss or a yogurt. Presumably what I saw was the "bad" ending, but it's just X saying to Axl "you're not ready to become a MavHunter" (presumably only veteran Hunters are allowed to get D rankings and stay on - a sort of grandfather clause). Not really on the same level of consequence as X5, in which I believe the entire Earth blows up if too much time expires. And what's with Sigma's master plan? He comes back from the dead, takes over a vigilante gang, gets them all killed, and then says "X and Zero will be mine!". You could call it a revenge plot, but it comes across as romance.

In terms of series ranking X7 probably belongs around the middle, between X3 and X5 (as if it needs to be said, the full ordering is X > X2 >>> X4 > X3 > X7 >>> X5 > X6, and I've yet to play X8). And I probably feel better about it than X3, which only barely coasts by on the strength of things done better in X and X2. X7 at least feels fresh and has some new ideas that genuinely work, namely the 3D stages and the weapon and character swapping. The story - while really terrible - is at least perfectly comprehensible, a big step up from the latter two PlayStation games. I even like the pre-fight dialogue with bosses - never hurts to give them some personality, and it's pretty cool that each player character gets unique exchanges. As for the legacy stuff: the 2D levels range from fan-made level editor junk (Soldier Stonekong) to tedious redundant slogs (Tornado Tonion); the Maverick designs are insanely terrible (did you read the names I just quoted?); hostage reploid permadeath is goddamn obnoxious; and copy abilities have never felt more superfluous. In the category of new-but-bad are the frankly humiliating graphics, absolutely pathetic for a 2003 PS2 game from a major studio competing against the likes of Jak II and Going Commando (it doesn't even look to be from the same hardware generation as Capcom's own Devils May Cry or Maximos). Yet more embarrassing is the frequent slowdown, an unheard-of problem on the PlayStation 2 even for games with acceptable sixth-gen polygon counts.

There's a New Game+, which would allow fully powering up all three characters (there are only enough chips in a single playthrough for 16 upgrades; each character has 12 slots). I wonder if that has any reward. I got enough out of the experience that I'd like to get to know it better, although I may wait a month for the Switch Mega Man X Legacy Collection Collection, which collects Mega Man X Legacy Collection 1 and Mega Man X Legacy Collection 2. The weapon and character selection add textbook replayability, about half of the bosses seem decent (Snipe Anteator eventually did get some competition for worst), and 3D action-platformers are just a rare thing. I mean, I'm the guy who likes Shinobi '02. On my most recent go-round with Ratchet & Clank Future... Dudes of Destruction? (sounds too cool, must be something stupider), I realized the series thinks it's 3D Mega Man, and started to process it in those terms. So Mega Man X7 is a great point of comparison, as it completely butchers all the presentation and accessibility stuff that makes R&C so palatable, yet maintains the legacy of Mega Man enemy and stage design.

Then I wrote a blog post about the motorcycle stage in Mega Man X7

Yeah but you know what does have great hover bikes? Mega Man X7. It doesn't, but I'm glad to see they at least tried for a 3D version of the then-established variety stage. And the fact that the bike accelerates rather than blandly auto-scrolling almost inherently makes it the best iteration of the always weak gimmick. Unfortunately, there's something terribly wrong with the steering mechanics that I can't quite put my finger on - it might actually be what's been described to me re:Outrun, that X-velocity and Z-velocity are totally independent, combined with a 3D Sonic camera that doesn't stay behind the vehicle (e.g. a left turn will have the camera placed so the road snakes from the right edge of the screen to the left).

Whether or not the controls are something I could get used to, the design of the stage is especially trashy, just a narrow corridor littered with boxes, hostages, and the now-iconic Runnerbombs. (It's pretty amazing that "Runnerbomb" isn't a name that I made up, although maybe not as amazing as the fact that a Runnerbomb's modus operandi is to stand in place and throw bombs). Each of the obstacles/enemies spawns on-screen with a bright teleporting-in effect that saves the game from needing a draw distance - it's good for drawing attention visually and shows that the developers at least understood that you can't just have enemy pop-in (I really am describing an Outrun remake, huh?). The downside is that Runnerbombs, which need to be avoided, and hostage reploids, which need to be collected, have near identical silhouettes that make every decision whether to dodge or collide a last-second one. That gives the already cluttered layout an extremely haphazard mouthfeel, and, since this is X7, the heroes have enough reserve HP to just plow through everything. Which is important, because all of this is operating on a time limit.

Yup, continuing on from the brilliant structural mix-up of the intro level's cyclops-walker arena-showdown, the bike stage deviates from standard traversal/survival gameplay towards an actual racing format. Not entirely racing, thankfully, but the objective is to grab (all) 20 time-bombs planted across the course loop before the countdown timer reaches Zero. The player can drive as fast or slow as they want, but can't turn around, so missing a bomb means needing to speed through another lap to come back to it. The mission ends instantly as soon as the 20th bomb is collected. Given this collection objective structure, you might call this the long lost final level of Sonic R.

Indeed, I should probably mention that the Maverick ruling over this high-speed terroristic attack is branded Ride Boarski. I'm going to go out on a limb and hypothesize the name is a reference to Polish sausage, you fill in the details.

Ultimately the whole experience is like the opposite of the PSX/Battletoads-era cycle rides where any minor deviation from the exactly plotted course is instant death. Since the layout requires constant last-minute course correction, the slippery mechanics make that especially difficult, and there's plenty of time for multiple laps, the most productive strategy seems to be starting off barreling forward as fast as possible, grabbing all the low-hanging fruit, then on later laps slamming on the brakes whenever a bomb is known to be coming up. Like other points of comparison with X5 and X6, X7 isn't really better, but it's at least more interesting.

Sonic Mania oughta take some lessons from Ed Wood (a review of ED WOOD with a clickbait title)

ED WOOD is the greatest kind of emotional storytelling: it is a film that finds joy in despair, creativity in loss, roaring success in crushing failure. It takes the depressing and pathetic life of a perennial loser and transforms it into something to admire, to be proud of, and it doesn't do it by lying, or reforming, or quibbling about facts. It is a much bolder story, one that asserts not that Ed Wood was a great artist or genius despite his achievements, but by way of his spirit and vision; if the product doesn't fit with our expectation of great art, that's only because we've defined it wrong. It dives so deep into the ocean of subjectivity as to forget the surface, yet uses this to expand the mind rather than to deceive it.

Take for instance Bela Lugosi's final filmed appearance in PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE. On paper, this is a rather dark, disheartening history, surrounded by the stench of exploitation. Lugosi's film career had completely disintegrated by the time he met Wood; he lived in poverty, alone and crippled by drug addiction. Wood 'revived' his legacy for a few years by throwing him in embarrassing roles in Z-grade bombs, most famously using some extremely random footage and a lookalike within PLAN 9, as Lugosi passed away during filming. ED WOOD retells this tale in all its detail, but with the focus placed entirely on the loving friendship between the two men. Bela is confused by Ed's films and doesn't see half of them, but is so charmed by the man and happy to be acting again that he doesn't care. As he points out when swarmed by reporters in a rehab center, he doesn't care if he's being exploited. He's an old man - he just wants to stop and smell the roses one last time. Of course, this is literally the scene he directs for himself as his final performance, the one that would land in PLAN 9: a quiet moment with just Ed and the camera, as the director struggles to find any excuse to give his friend something to do. Nor to Ed is it exploitation - PLAN 9 is advertised as "Bela Lugosi's final film" not because it'll sell more tickets that way, but because it is fucking BELA LUGOSI's final film, and how awesome and important is that? Ed cares for the man so dearly that to him it would be the greater atrocity NOT to let Bela have a final starring role, and he's willing to get all his friends baptized if that's what it takes to get it made.

Likewise the PLAN 9 premiere, we don't see the crowd's reaction, only their applause at the names Ed Wood and Bela Lugosi, and the hushed silence at Bela's scene. Did they hate the film? Did they love it? By now it's clear that doesn't matter to Ed ("[the worst movie you ever saw?] Well, my next one'll be better!"), it doesn't matter to Bela, so it doesn't matter to the movie. We simply rush out from the theater, Ed on the high of his life, as he proposes to his girlfriend and drives off into the pouring rain and thunder, no sunset in sight. Cue the ending titles, with a card next to Ed's glowing expression reading that he would never go on to make a successful picture, dying at age 54 after a 20-year descent into alcoholism and nudie flicks; that two years after his death he was voted "Worst Director of All Time", bringing him a new level of worldwide renown. And this plays as an extremely happy and uplifting moment! That's how much work ED WOOD has done to reverse our idea of meaningful accomplishment.

Throughout the film are peppered matter-of-fact bystanders to remind us that this isn't all a fantasy, that no delusion is taking place. This sets up a beautiful irony where someone tries to correct Ed with a genuinely helpful suggestion, he is perplexed and frustrated, yet so determined to succeed that we side with him, because if you're going to be a moron, it's better not to compromise about it. (Aside: how many of Burton's films could accurately be described as "the unwitting adventures of complete morons"? PEE-WEE, that other EDWARD picture, even Jack Skellington mostly fits). The most amusing and transparent of these reality checks are the conservative Christian producers clomping around the PLAN 9 set; the stereotypical micromanaging money-men who just don't get art slowly choking the delicate genius. The fact that they're evangelicals just gives them that extra Hollywood-ignorant edge. Yet everything they point out is perfectly rational and probably would've made a "better" movie - isn't grave-robbing kinda sordid for a kids flick? shouldn't the exposition be given to someone who speaks intelligible English? don't you want to film a take where the actor doesn't kick over that gravestone prop? Of course, the secondary joke going on here is one for PLAN 9 cultists, as these are presumably all the elements that make that film so amusing (I'm actually grateful I haven't seen it - I think this stuff could've annoyed me as pandering if I had).

So the post title (I don't know if it counts as clickbait when your blog isn't advertised and has no visitors). This all goes back to a comment I made in my review of Sonic Mania, in particular comparing it to Sonic Generations, that Mania was boxed into a boring, conservative narrative that everyone already accepts, that the Genesis Sonic games are classics, and that therefore Mania would have no legacy, because it is entirely subservient to previous successes. I pointed out that Generations overcomes this obstacle by treating the trash material (Sonic '06, Heroes, etc.) with the same amount of care and affection as everything else. And that's exactly what ED WOOD is doing, creating something new by celebrating something that hasn't been celebrated, finding a fresh set of eyes (or glasses) for viewing the past, creating history where history got it wrong. Maybe a different way of putting it is that any adaptation has a choice between recreating the execution / the product / the fact, or re-implementing the concept / the inspiration / the soul. You can guess which work falls into which category.