#oneaday Day 75: Yar-Har Fiddle-De-Dee

Piracy is a crime. Most people are aware of this by now, but it still goes on. And as much as I’m not a fan of piracy per se, it’s becoming increasingly understandable why people resort to less-than-legal means to get hold of digital content. Sometimes it’s because said content isn’t available where they live without paying exorbitant amounts of money to import things. Sometimes it’s to get a different version of some content they enjoy. And sometimes it’s because the legal versions of the content don’t work in the first place.

Let’s take YouTube as an example here. YouTube launched a service in the UK last year called YouTube Shows, which carries content from Channel 4, Channel 5 and various other sources, allowing viewers to catch up on programmes they’ve missed, rather like iPlayer. This is a great service, particularly considering it’s available for free, thanks to the fact it’s supported by advertising.

At least, it’s great in theory. Until the advertising service breaks, rendering the content completely inaccessible. Because there’s no failsafe to skip a broken ad, no means of reloading with different ads if they cause the video to fail and no means to report broken content, if YouTube decides that you’re not going to watch something, you’re not going to watch it.

This is obviously a Bad Thing, but of course it’s not YouTube’s fault directly. Computers fuck up, that’s part of What They Do. But when the fact that Computers Fuck Up That’s What They Do means that a service becomes unusable, that’s when alternative means start to get 1) sought and 2) provided.

Take the various means of digital rights management that many PC games come bundled with these days, too. Several of Ubisoft’s games won’t run at all if you’re not connected to the Internet constantly while you’re playing, so if you have a dodgy wireless signal in your home, good luck playing Assassin’s Creed on the PC, since it’ll kick you from the game every time your connection drops. And now some console games are starting to take the same approach, too, with Bionic Commando Rearmed 2 on PSN being one of the first. Modern consoles are very much geared towards “always-on” connections these days, of course, but with the number of times my PS3 logs itself out of PSN with no warning every day, playing a game that depended on Internet connectivity would quickly become very frustrating.

It ends up as a vicious cycle, however. The pirates determine more and more inventive ways to circumvent the more and more inventive protective systems that publishers put in place to deter the pirates from circumventing their protective systems. And it never ends. At the moment, particularly when it comes to PC gaming, cracked versions often offer a more convenient, “better” experience than legitimate copies. And when it comes to DVDs, not having to sit through several minutes of unskippable bullshit every time you want to watch a 20-minute episode of How I Met Your Mother is always going to be a mark in favour of downloading the episodes rather than buying the DVDs.

Piracy is a crime. But buying a product isn’t, and nor is tolerating advertising to make use of a free service. So how about the legitimate consumers stop getting treated like dirt, huh?

#oneaday, Day 8: Film Illiterate

I am woefully film-illiterate, as becomes painfully apparent the moment anyone uses the tried-and-tested icebreaker “Have you seen [insert movie that everyone has seen here]?”

I just don’t watch that many movies. It’s as simple as that. When given the option between spending nearly two hours watching a movie passively or interacting actively with a video game, nine times out of ten I’ll pick the video game, particularly if I’m by myself. This is inclined to change if I’m with other people, though, since unless you’re sitting with another gamer (or at least someone who’s invested in the story, characters, gameplay and/or your progress in the game) then sitting watching someone else play a game is no fun. (There are exceptions to this rule, of course; titles like Heavy Rain spring immediately to mind.)

But for the most part, because I live a long way from some of my friends and several thousand miles away from even more of my friends, watching a movie is usually a solitary experience. And if I’m going to be playing solitaire, I’d rather be, you know, playing.

That doesn’t stop me thinking that there are certain movies that I “should” see, though. There are a few of the classics that I have seen—unlike Ash, who wrote about this very topic earlier today, I have seen 2001: A Space Odyssey, for example. (And I can’t remember a bloody thing about it, leading me to believe it might not have been as good as everyone says it is.) But for the most part, if someone mentions a film that supposedly “everyone” has seen, chances are, I haven’t.

Now, in an effort to rectify this, and partly in celebration of its arrival on the PS3, I signed up for a LOVEFiLM trial subscription. My thinking behind it was that I’d finally be able to jump on board with some of these supposed “classics” and catch up with what I’ve been missing for all these years. The first film I watched was Team America: World Police which, while probably not a “classic” in the same way as certain other films are, it’s certainly one which gets quoted and referenced a lot. (And it was pretty hilarious, too. The scene with “Kim Jong-Il’s panthers” had me in stitches.)

Last night, though, I jumped in at the deep end and watched one of those films that is supposedly “iconic”, a quintessential snapshot of the art form at a particular moment in time. That film was Dirty Harry.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, even though I’ve been seeing Dirty Harry references throughout literature, games and journalism for the last twenty-five years or so. But I was pleasantly surprised to find an enjoyable film that you didn’t have to think about too hard, yet which still carried an underlying message that is still relevant today—that of criminals’ “rights”.

One thing that was particularly striking about the film was how differently it treated its antagonist to today’s movies. These days, there is often some lengthy exposition detailing exactly how and why the “villain” of the piece came to be so, well, villainous. This can lead to some interesting moral ambiguity situations when you discover that sometimes a “villain” can just be someone who’s doing what they think is right, or that they have underlying problems that explain their actions, however reprehensible.

There’s none of that in Dirty Harry. Scorpio is a scumbag, pure and simple. He’s a pure personification of “evil”—he rapes, he kills, he manipulates, he tricks, and he sure doesn’t like to be brought to justice. His demonisation throughout the course of the film causes the audience to subconsciously and automatically side with Harry, as questionable as some of his methods might be. It’s an effective trick, and one which makes the whole movie immensely satisfying right up to its conclusion.

So there’s one I can tick off my list. Any other suggestions?

#oneaday, Day 223: One Adult Ticket, Please

This is an exaggeration, of course. A lot of things are made to be shared. A meal for two. Sexual intercourse. That fart that made you chuckle for a good thirty minutes because it smelled like what you imagine a can of processed vegetables that’s been left open for a month stinks like.

Still, there are a number of things which are supposedly inherently social activities which are actually improved severaltimes-fold by the complete and total absence of other people. And yet the peculiarness that is “social convention” precludes people from ever considering taking part in these activities without other people present at times.

Since we’re on the subject, let’s consider the cinema. The cinema is a place with lots of seats where lots of people can sit together and all watch the same movie. A movie is an audio-visual form of entertainment where it is necessary to both watch and listen in order to understand what is going on. Ergo (yeah, I said “ergo”) it is natural to assume that you would want to give this your full attention. So why did you bring these people with you?

The Giggler

The Giggler sits and watches the movie and laughs obnoxiously loudly at everything. Not just the deliberately funny bits. But the bits they find amusing, too. The trouble with The Giggler is that they find everything funny. From the fact that the lead character has a zit on his nose to the cheesy line that the love interest spouts, everything provokes a snort, snicker, giggle or guffaw.

You’re watching the climax of the movie (“climax”, incidentally, being a word that would cause The Giggler to collapse and possibly explode) and it’s clear that it’s a powerful, dramatic moment. However, The Giggler has decided that this moment is actually the funniest thing they have ever seen, and they proceed to ruin the dramatic tension for themselves, you and everyone around them by chortling away to themselves.

Net result: You, and most other people in the cinema, want to punch them in the face by the time you leave.

The Joker

Ally to The Giggler, The Joker has a sly comment to make about every single scene in the movie, which normally sets The Giggler off into one of their famous Fits of The Giggles. The Joker knows the perfect moment in which to say something completely inappropriate which ruins the whole movie for themselves and everyone around them. Fortuitously, The Joker usually has the good sense to say these things quietly so that only they and their immediate group of companions can hear them.

But when a planet is about to explode on screen, there’s a moment of silence and The Joker leans over and whispers “Cock!” in your ear, there’s no way you can recover from that.

The Farter

The Farter is a subdivision of The Joker. The Farter also does things inappropriately at just the wrong moment. But you can imagine what it is they do instead of cracking jokes.

The Texter

The Texter can’t keep their hands off their mobile phone for the duration of the movie, despite those stern warnings and irritating Orange adverts before it starts. The Texter inevitably has poor low-light vision, too, so insists on having their phone set to full brightness for while they are sending messages to all their friends who are not you.

The One Who Doesn’t Get It

The One Who Doesn’t Get It is fairly self-explanatory. Stereotypically, The One Who Doesn’t Get It is a girl who has been dragged along to a sci-fi movie by her boyfriend, but it’s by no means limited to the female of the species.

The One Who Doesn’t Get It is trying very hard to like the movie but just doesn’t understand it. Perhaps it’s a movie based on a TV show or comic series that they don’t have any context for. Perhaps they went to the toilet when a critical plot point happened. Perhaps they’re used to stories with all the depth of a puddle. Or perhaps they’re just a bit slow.

Regardless of the reason, The One Who Doesn’t Get It very much wants to Get It. So they ask lots of questions of the person who appears to Get It the most. Which is probably you.

The Rustler

The Rustler is, at their core, a kind-hearted soul. That’s why they stocked up on drinks and snacks in the foyer. They’re more than happy to share their tasty treats with you. Unfortunately, the tasty treats that they purchased come in the noisiest bag imaginable. And not only that, the sweets in the bag are all individually wrapped, too, meaning that not only do you have to rustle the bag if you want a sweet (which you do, because they’re delicious and exactly what you want right now) you then have to spent a few minutes rustling the paper of the sweet in order to get at the delicious goodness within. And once you’ve had one, you want more.

In this way, The Rustler has managed to escape blame for themselves alone. By sharing the goodies with others, it’s not just their fault.

The One Who’s Seen The Movie Before

The One Who’s Seen The Movie Before is, in many ways, the most dangerous of all. Because The Giggler, The Joker, The Farter, The Texter, The One Who Doesn’t Get It and The Rustler can all be ignored or told to shut up. The One Who’s Seen The Movie Before can do their damage and make it irreversible before you know what’s happening.

All it takes is a simple “Oh wow! This is the twist coming up!” to ruin any sense of dramatic tension. The One Who’s Seen The Movie Before assumes that everyone else has also Seen The Movie Before and as such doesn’t mind dishing out a few spoilers both before and during the movie. And because they’re your friend, you don’t want to punch them in the testicles for doing so. But inside, your mind is beating them senseless about the face and neck.

The Other Moviegoers

This doesn’t even take into account the other people in the cinema. There’s The Very Tall Man, who inevitably sits right in front of you, even when the rest of the cinema is empty. There are The Annoying Children, who are usually other people’s The Jokers and The Gigglers. There are The Weak Bladders, who get up every five minutes to go and have a piss, and inevitably sit on your row, requiring you to stand up to let them out. And numerous others. These can be dealt with by simply not sitting near anyone else, ever.

So stay safe. Just go by yourself. Unless you’re with a significant other and you really don’t care about the movie and just want to make out in the back row. But, you know, you can achieve much the same effect by simply turning off the lights in your living room, and it won’t cost you seven quid.

In other news, I went to see Scott Pilgrim vs. The World today. By myself. And it was awesome.

#oneaday, Day 210: Literacy

Well, tonight was the night we recorded the first episode of the all-new Squadron of Shame SquadCast. And we think you’re going to like it a lot.

There’s going to be a lot more community involvement in the whole thing, too. This is led by the Squawkbox, a communal blog where anyone with a WordPress account can contribute and join the discussion. But there’s nothing to stop people blogging about the things we talk about, either. In fact, it’d be awesome to see some lengthy written thoughts about the things we discuss.

So I thought I’d kick that off with some material related to a discussion we had on the show. Not to spoil anything, but it’s an interesting topic.

The question is that of being “literate” in a medium versus that of being “well-read”. On the podcast, we particularly focused on gaming, as you might expect. You’ll find the conclusions we came to on the podcast itself. See, I like to tease.

But it’s true for any medium, and not just books, either. My old friend Ed “Roth Dog” Padgett (follow him on Twitter just to stop him moaning, too, if you would) is most certainly well-read in the medium of movies, for example. He knows what makes a “good” or a “bad” movie. He knows about different directors, actors, genres, stylistic approaches, all manner of things I could never even begin to understand right now because I am merely literate in the medium of movies. I know what makes a decent structure of a movie, and I know what I enjoy. But I don’t watch movies that often, and as such there may be some things that I don’t appreciate in the same way that others do.

Take my recent reaction to the movie Predators. I thought Predators was a festering pile of horseshit, yet many people whom I’ve spoken to about it since claimed to rather enjoy it. Does this mean that I’m “wrong”? No; it simply means that my reaction is different to other people. In the case of a lot of those people, misty-eyed nostalgia over the original Predator films probably played a part. And in some cases, they quite possibly genuinely liked the generic, sprawling mess that was that movie. I have only ever seen Predator once and I’m not even convinced I’ve ever seen Predator 2. I think I have. But I can’t remember.

I’ll freely admit that I’m not particularly well-read when it comes to movies. I’ve never seen Citizen Kane, Clockwork Orange or Rocky Horror Picture Show. I haven’t seen the vast majority of Arnie’s output. I can name about three directors off the top of my head. I struggle to name a “favourite movie”. But I can at least appreciate a decent movie when I see one.

With books, it’s the most literal kind of, well, literacy. You can read. Or you can be well-read. If you can read, there may be stuff you enjoy. Perhaps you enjoy Mills and Boon romance novels, but only for the naughty bits. Perhaps you like the cheesiest kind of epic fantasy there is. Perhaps you like a diverse range of stuff.

In every medium, everyone has the opportunity to become “literate”, and to understand that medium on a level that is sufficient to make it accessible and enjoyable. But it takes a lot more work to become truly “well-read” and to understand what the “canonical” titles in that medium are. And in media as diverse as these, it’s entirely likely that everyone has their own opinions on what the “canon” might include.

So, anyone interested enough to comment, then: pick a medium that you feel particularly “well-read” in, and give us some examples of what you think might be “essentials”—the “canon” for that medium. I’m intrigued to hear some responses.

#oneaday, Day 194: Plan Plan Plan Plan… Fool?

Went to see The A-Team at the cinema tonight with a buddy. We were going to go see Inception, which I understand is quite good, but it was full, so that will have to wait until I’m back in Southampton.

Despite The A-Team‘s cultural significance and kitsch value, I’m not entirely convinced I’ve watched many—if any—episodes of the original TV series. Shameful, I know. Still, I can appreciate its ridiculousness and feel suitably aggrieved that it’s not Mr. T playing BA Baracas in the movie.

So, the movie then. It was surprisingly good. Not great, but pretty good. It dragged on a bit too long, if anything, but it looked good and had a great cast. Liam Neeson as Hannibal was very good, despite a shoddy script that saw him mentioning “plans” completely gratuitously, even for a master of planning such as himself. It’s good to see Bradley Cooper doing stuff again too; he made a good Face. Murdock and BA were pretty good, too; they had a good dynamic between them that worked well.

The story was utter nonsense and felt like it was ripped straight from a Call of Duty game. There were bad guys with motives that weren’t particularly clear, betrayals, backstabbings, a twist that defied all logic and lots and lots and lots of explosions and gunfights. It was spectacular in the same way that Modern Warfare 2 is; so long as you don’t even think about trying to analyse (or indeed understand) the plot. The writers clearly knew this, as there’s a terrible, terrible line in one scene that they deserve a punch in the face for. Nasty Bad Guy Man is watching a transmission of a missile approaching something it’s about to destroy (no spoilers here) and quips that “Man, this looks just like Call of Duty!”

No. Name-drops do not make you cool. Stop it.

One thing that struck me, though—and remember I’m speaking as someone who didn’t really watch the TV series here—the big-screen interpretation of the team’s activities seems a lot more violent than I expected. This is something of a pattern with modern-day remakes of classic franchises, I find—the violence and sexiness quotient tends to get beefed up somewhat. At times, certain scenes become unrecognisable from the source material and start looking just like any other action movie.

The A-Team was in danger of this happening on a number of occasions, but it kept just the right level of absurdity to keep things ticking along. Still, it would have been nice to see more in the way of improvised gadgetry (of which there is some) and less in the way of “OMG GUNS!”

That said, there’s a scene with a tank which is pretty 1) implausible and 2) hilarious.

In short, it’s a perfect summer movie. It’s pretty, it’s dumb and it’s a lot of fun. Go into it expecting some thoroughly shallow, thoroughly enjoyable entertainment and you won’t be disappointed.

#oneaday, Day 173: The Adventures of Captain Generic

My buddy Kalam invited me out for a late-night cinema showing tonight as his buddy had some free tickets. We went to go and see the new film Predators, which I knew nothing about. I don’t really keep up on movies that much, so it’s often a nice surprise to go to the cinema and find out what’s on.

I wasn’t sure what to expect. I didn’t see the original Predator until much later than many others, as I discovered a videotape stuffed down the back of the sofa in my second-year university flat containing three episodes of The Mary Whitehouse Experience and Predator as broadcast on ITV in the early 90s. No, I’m not making that up. My sole exposure to the movie was via a discarded VHS tape left behind by previous tenants. I’ve never seen Predator 2. In fact, I’ve not seen that many Arnie movies generally. To be honest, I don’t feel like I’ve missed that much, except maybe a few pop culture references.

Spoilarz ahead. Not that there’s much in the way of substance to spoil, really.

Anyway, Predators. Or as I’ve decided to redub it, The Adventures of Captain Generic and the Stereotype Brigade. I mean seriously. We have gravelly-voiced main man who is, of course, American. We have female lead who ping-pongs between having a bit of an exotic foreign accent and being American. We have a Latino bloke with a mustache who is dressed like a janitor but has two Uzis. We have a black dude who knows all about tribal behaviour. We have an ex-convict who is handy with a knife and inexplicably hates the black dude. We have a Yakuza who doesn’t say much, who has a shirtless katana-fighting scene with a Predator later in the movie. (OMG SPOILARZ. Sorry.) And we have a bland, boring doctor bloke who actually turns out to be a psychopath. (OMG SPOILARZ AGAIN. Oops.) Oh, and Laurence Fishburne. Who explodes.

This movie is a strong contender for the worst thing I have ever let anyone put in my eyes and ears. But at least it was terrible in an enjoyable sort of way. It was immensely predictable, and the various lines that characters come out with in every movie like this ever came out at exactly the expected moments. And, as all good action movies shouldn’t, it doesn’t make a blind bit of sense. The movie opens with all these disparate characters waking up in free-fall, conveniently equipped with a parachute and one signature weapon each, and landing in a mysterious jungle which is on an alien planet but actually has some Earth flora on it. There’s no explanation at any point for why this happens, besides “we’re being hunted…” and by the end it just kind of doesn’t really matter any more. Laurence Fishburne’s presence doesn’t make any sense. He has a Predator hat and can turn invisible. But he’s mental, has an invisible friend, helps out our merry band of generic stereotypes and, uh oh, turns out he’s actually evil mental not endearing mental. Fortunately, he gets exploded by a Predator quite quickly.

Oh, and talking of explosions, roughly halfway through this film there is the absolute worst pyrotechnic effect I’ve ever seen. It’s a massive explosion. You’d think Hollywood could get these right by now. But no. This is terrible, terrible stuff. Leave aside the fact that an absolutely enormous conflagration that rips through an entire ruined spacecraft comes from a small claymore mine. It doesn’t even look right. The colours are all off and it looks distinctly cartoony. Not good.

Oh, and there’s lots of unnecessary swearing, just like every good 80s action movie.

So, basically, if you want a good laugh, go and see Predators. If you enjoyed the old films, I don’t know, you might get a kick out of it. But I walked away thinking “what the fuck was that”? I enjoyed it, but for all the wrong reasons. Perhaps it was intended to be an homage to 80s action movies. If so, it did a great job.