June 28, 2006
Wow, did I ever just get back from a fantastic concert.
I’m not going to write about it right now, since all I’ve done all day is write. You can see my first ever Next Gen articles at next-gen.biz — they’re about the Hollywood and Games Conference, and I wrote them all today. Cha!
June 14, 2006
A strange thing has happened at the UCB theater these last couple weeks. See, every Monday night, after the Harold Teams perform their half-hour long-forms, UCB hosts an improv jam. The Jam has a unique audience; they are like jam groupies, who arrive at UCB around 10:45pm and only perform in the jam. It’s a subculture’s subculture.
A couple weeks ago, Robin Williams became a jam groupie. Robin rolled into the next-door bar, Birds, and had a couple drinks before joining in on the open improv set at UCB. And he keeps coming back.
This week, I performed with him and a group of about eight other improvisors in a 20 minute set in front of a sold-out house. Rachel also got swept up on stage, and did a few scenes with the Bicentennial Man. It wasn’t intimidating, but certainly surreal.
As I was riding around with Jim Woods yesterday, intermittently discussing our new show and lamenting our financial woes, I offered that he and I have had some pretty charmed lives. More than lucky, I think the duality of our lives is unique. Here I am, eating toast for breakfast and panicking about how I’m going to pay rent, and two nights ago I was doing scenes with a millionare. I helped write an article for the LA Times — daily circulation 800,000 — and I can’t get a manager to write me an email. I’m going to be performing on four different Los Angeles stages weekly by the end of August, and I can’t even land a commercial agent. A commercial agent. I don’t even have the opportunity to sell out.
After the shows on Monday night, a girl from Northwestern grabbed me and said hi. She remembered me from the Mee-Ow Show, specifically mentioning some scene I’d done as a teletubby some seven years ago. She works for a voice-over school, and suggested that I take some classes and get a demo together. I simply don’t have the money to take the offer. That sort of open door that I can’t enter is really starting to stress me out.
I’ve asked a couple friends this week, “If you walked out the door and it was 1951, would you be more stressed out or relieved?” My answer comes easy: I’d be relieved. I would know what my role was, and could carry it out. I’d be a government paid soothsayer, using my foreknowledge of the next 55 years to help America avoid major catastrophes. Even if I was sequestered to a military base in Colorado, at least I’d know what it was I was supposed to be doing.
That’s the addicitive principle in fiction, I think. Especially the hero’s journey. Sure, Frodo doesn’t enjoy carrying the ring, but he’s not confused as to what his mission is. He can complain about the burden all day long, but when he goes to sleep at night, he knows what he’s doing tomorrow.
I think that specific stress — not knowing what the hell you’re doing — is a very modern (like, as in the last 4,000 years) anxiety. Prior to civilization, you went to bed hungry and knew what you were up against the next day; you had to get some more food. Now, we wake up knowing what we are scheduled to do, but not what we have to do. In fact, the cushions of agriculture and law may mean that we don’t have to do anything.
Am I so spoiled that I lament luxury? Sure, I guess so. But I’d like to think that I’d be Locke when it came time to be Lost. I want a role, and I’m hungry for the stuggle to fill it.
PS. Why doesn’t WordPress have a spell-check?
June 11, 2006
I just picked up a copy of Lost in Blue for my DS this week. It’s a game I’ve wanted for a while, but was having trouble tracking down a copy — it’s apparently a limited run.
Lost in Blue is an RPG set on an island, and you take the role of a young boy — Keith — who has washed up on shore. After he finds a girl (and steps on her glasses), Keith must provide shelter and food lest the pair die. Which, having played a few days of the game, seems like an inevitability. Skye and Keith are really weak kids.
I mean, every couple of hours, they’re hungry to the point of death.
So, I’ve died a lot. Maybe I’m not comfortable with the limitations placed on the exploration. I set out across island much like I adventure in FFXI; I’m more interested in features of the landscape (and covering every inch of the island) than I am with the hunting/fishing/gathering mini-games. That isn’t to say the survival tasks aren’t fun — I actually enjoy making fire quite a bit. After you strike up a spark, you have to breathe into the DS’ mic to start a flame. It’s novel, it’s charming … and blowing into a game system is something I haven’t done since my NES started flickering.
Now, several gaming sites have grumbled about the alleged misogynist content in Lost in Blue. See, Skye can’t fend for herself. She can’t even walk out of the cave without holding your hand. And she stays at home and cooks. Oh, and makes baskets. Keith, on the other hand, heads out into the wilderness and catches fish. Or climbs on stuff.
To be honest, I don’t mind it. The game is not positing that Every Girl is like the one in LiB; she’s just this girl, and this is how she behaves. I’ve met a lot of women like her — if they were caught on a deserted island, that’s what they’d do. They’d stay in the cave. So fine, let me head out into the wild and look at the trees, and rub my fingers in the grass. I’m pretty sure that my role-playing of our male protagonist isn’t an indictment of all mankind. It’s just this guy, and this island.
Now take a look at the packaging for Lost in Blue in different territories.
The Japanese package (top left, dummy) doesn’t focus on the male and female protagonists; they are nearly anonymous figures holding hands across a river on a CG island. The French, English, and American covers place the relationship in the limelight. Skye and Keith are equals on the French package, but Keith’s active role is implied both by his equipped bow and Skye’s nervous stare. In the British version of the game, Keith is helping Skye onto a set of dangerous rocks. Finally, on the American cover, Keith poses in the foreground while Syke stands around behind him; the key art is the same as in the French packaging, but the size of the characters in the frame is a foreshadowing of their roles.
Firstly, let me say that I’m really happy that Konami redid the art for this package. That Japanese box is almost the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. It certainly implies a busy game, which Lost in Blue is not. LiB is a slow, strange demo of the DS’ features. And I really like the American cover — both of the children look forlorn, which is appropriate for any game with Lost in the title. Even if your game was called Lost in a Really Fast-Paced Adventure, I’d hope the box-art would feature a desperate protagonist admist a blur of activity.
While I find these changes interesting, I wouldn’t label any of these packages misogynist. I often find feminist critique very defensive, as if the role of women is always victim. I’ve found plenty of places to be an empowered female in my life, and I certainly don’t mind taking care of a girl once in a while. Some girls are like that, after all.
Recent Comments