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Slate has an article about a guy named Neal Stephenson calling for more Utopian, less Dystopian, science-fiction. The idea is that people need to be more optimistic about the future in order to be motivated to invent things.

I’ll comment on that anon, but first a language lesson. Quoth Wikipedia:

The word [Utopia] comes from the Greek: οὐ (“not”) and τόπος (“place”) and means “no place”. The English homophone eutopia, derived from the Greek εὖ (“good” or “well”) and τόπος (“place”), means “good place”. This, due to the identical pronunciation of “utopia” and “eutopia”, gives rise to a double meaning.

So, when Sir Thomas More wrote Utopia, he was making a sort of pun in the title. Now you know. And “dys” is apparently Greek for “bad”, so when they say that, they’re really dyssing something. (Sorry.) I like these double-meanings, but people have kind of forgotten about that nuance. (It’s like the subtleties of language are being lost. Someone should write a dystopian novel about that.)

The problem is that most Utopian fiction is boring. There’s nothing interesting about a place where there are no problems. (Which is, in a sense, a problem. Someone should write a dystopian novel about that, too.) Even worse, it comes across as somebody preaching to you about what they think society ought to be like. I have enough of that as it is.

Also, would-be inventors can be forgiven for fearing that even their most brilliant efforts will be all to the bad. May I present Alfred Nobel and Robert Oppenheimer?

The only way to make an interesting Utopian story that I can see is to have some external threat appear in the Utopia, and destroy it. It’s best if the threat is from the present-day of the writer of the story. (This is kind of the plot of Gilbert and Sullivan’s Utopia, Limited, in which a bunch of Englishmen show up and ruin a Utopian island.) And even this is pretty heavy-handed as a satirical technique.

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The Daily Beast has a slideshow of Hollywood movies that bombed. I’ve only seen one of the movies on the list: Cleopatra. It’s a long movie, and as I recall the early-going with Rex Harrison as Julius Caesar was pretty good, but after he gets killed off, the movie goes downhill fast. What amazed me was the fact that Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, famously having an affair at the time of the filming, had very little chemistry in the film. Harrison and Taylor were a better couple than Burton and Taylor, weird as it sounds.

Of course, the more expensive a movie is, the more danger it is in of “bombing”; since bombing basically means “failing to break even”. So, this means it’s theoretically possible that a good movie that people like could still bomb because of financial mismanagement during production. Since Cleopatra is the most expensive movie ever, it would have had to do incredibly well to not bomb.

So, what’s the best movie to bomb? Wikipedia has a list of the biggest bombs, that’s a good starting point. I know some people love The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, but I’ve never seen it. I haven’t seen most of these. Babe: Pig in the City wasn’t that bad… but it was pretty bad.

Any suggestions?

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I keep hearing the words “Hunger Games” being bandied about. I see signs with the words “Hunger Games” plastered on them. People keep making references to “the Hunger Games”. I believe there is even a blog on the front page of WordPress that has something to do with the “Hunger Games” on it. I never really paid enough attention to figure out what they were about or why I should care.

And then I read Thingy talking about “The Hunger Games” on her blog, and so I decided it was time to find out about them. I whisked myself to Wikipedia forthwith, and commenced to read. So, The Hunger Games is a series of books for young adults, which, like all YA books nowadays, has been adapted into a movie, which comes out tomorrow.

I have to admit, just reading the synopsis made me a little bored. “Post-apocalyptic America…dystopian totalitarian government… sacrifices by lottery…” It all seemed tired to me. As Thingy noted, the “deadly lottery” aspect of the story sounds a lot like “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson. (Full disclosure: I only know about that story because it’s the model for Vault 11 in Fallout: New Vegas… another post-apocalyptic tale.)

But then,as Zaphodb2002 commented on this post: “It is more about how the story is told, not necessarily what the story is about.” So, just because it’s got a lot of familiar trappings doesn’t mean it’s not an interesting book. I’m willing to give it the benefit of the doubt.

I wonder why the post-apocalyptic idea is so popular. I guess because it gives the author a “clean slate” to build the kind of world s/he wants. And maybe because it lets you show familiar settings in a state of destruction, and that’s pretty dramatic. But it certainly seems like the post-apocalyptic genre is popular with audiences these days. I wonder why.

I’m not an expert on the genre, but I don’t think it was always thus. It seems to me that fiction that dealt with “the end of the world as we know it” used to be just plain apocalyptic–e.g. Dr. Strangelove, where the end of the movie is the nuclear annihilation. I wonder what the change signifies.

And another thing: is it true that one of two things almost always happens with the post-apocalypse: either there is no government, no law and order, and humanity is reduced to fighting gang-warfare style, or else there is a tyrannical, all-powerful government controlling the wasteland. Or is that just my impression?

As long as we’re on the subject, how is this related to another phenomenon both Thingy and Ferrerman have addressed lately: “preppers”? That is, people preparing for what they believe to be the imminent apocalypse. Are they fans of post-apocalyptic fiction? If so, since they all seem to be going the “gang warfare” camp, where’s the sign-up sheet for the “tyrannical government” camp? I bet the first 50 people in get cushy positions in the Thought Police or something.

Anyway… how depressing. Perhaps Tom Lehrer can make us feel better:

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I was thinking of watching the movie Ryan’s Daughter, since it’s St. Patrick’s Day and the movie is set in Ireland. And I usually like David Lean films. But I was reading some reviews of it, and it seems like a lot of people feel it has beautiful cinematography and a gorgeous location, but the story itself is weak. I don’t know if I’ll see it or not, but it did set me thinking about something, especially with this post still on my mind.

To me, for a movie or video game to be art, it has to do more than just look good; it has to have a good story and good characters. I’ve always taken this for granted in my posts on the subject, but I’ve lately realized that some people may not feel the same way. I mean, some people will argue that games like Rage or BioShock are art based on their settings alone. And I can’t argue that both Rage‘s wasteland and BioShock‘s art deco undersea city are beautiful creations.

It’s just that, those game aren’t just about looking at the pretty setting. They also have stories and characters, and I found both lacking in these games. Especially Rage. BioShock definitely had some interesting ideas, but ultimately it just felt forced and too self-consciously weird to me. (That said, I’d still qualify BioShock as art for at least trying, just not great art. Rage is right out.) If you make a game whose art lies solely in its visuals, make a game about going around and looking at all the pretty stuff. Kind of like Pilotwings 64.

Talking of David Lean, consider his movie Lawrence of Arabia. Does it have awesome visuals? Yes, it certainly does. However, without Robert Bolt and Michael Wilson’s script, and the powerful performances by all the actors, it wouldn’t be a great movie. Cool to watch for the “match/sunrise” scene and the scene where Omar Sharif rides up out of the desert, but not a great movie. I’m not passing judgement until I see it, but some reviews make it sound like that’s exactly what happened with Ryan’s Daughter.

Now, of course, Lawrence would also be a lesser film if it had the same script and acting, but shot in black-and-white on one of those laughable “desert” sets that you sometimes see in old Westerns. But still, I think that people sometimes overstress the superficial qualities. Obviously, just having better visuals doesn’t make a film better. Captain Corelli’s Mandolin is not superior to Casablanca, even though the former is in color and the latter in black-and-white.

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I don’t have HBO, so I won’t be seeing the movie Game Change anytime soon. it sounds mildly interesting to me from what I have read, if only because of this one line:

“‘Now it takes a movie star charisma to get elected president. Obama and Palin, that’s what they are, stars,’ one strategist concludes at the film’s end.”

Well, I don’t dispute that. In the age of television and especially of the internet, charisma itself is a “game changer” Visual media loves a charismatic individual.

Perhaps that’s why they couldn’t resist making a movie about something that happened only three-and-a-half years ago, and was not exactly undocumented. Personally, if I wanted to relive The Sarah Palin Experience 2008, I’d just go watch some of the many news shows about her. It’s not like her debate performance or her acceptance speech are lost forever. The Couric and Gibson interviews are readily accessible.

I know, supposedly this movie gives us the “behind the scenes” look at Palin and the McCain campaign, but I frankly have my doubts as to whether it is accurate. The only evidence it has for its accuracy is that Palin says it is inaccurate. That counts for something, but on the other hand its truth is vouched for by McCain’s Chief Strategist Steve Schmidt. Forgive me if I don’t trust the words of a political strategist.

No one except the actual participants knows what really went on, and, being all currently living people in the field of politics, are likely to tell the story that is most flattering to their own interests. The only way to really do it right would have been to make some sort of Rashomon-like film. And even that wouldn’t get you any closer to the truth.

This doesn’t mean that it’s utterly impossible to know what happened on the campaign trail, but it’s going to be years before a really clear picture emerges. That’s often the way with history. Right now, there are too many currently politically active people portrayed in the movie to really have much confidence in it.

So, why did they make this movie? Why didn’t they make a movie of an election we don’t have footage of, like, for instance, the 1824 election? That would be a good one; full of drama and intrigue. And it had Andrew Jackson, who is quite a fascinating personality. That would be very interesting to watch.

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I went to see The Phantom Menace in 3D yesterday. I didn’t have high hopes for it, as I was mostly unimpressed with the 3D effects in Avatar, and that film was originally filmed in 3D. Still, I thought I should at least take advantage of the chance to see it on the big screen again for the first time since 1999.

Overall, I thought the 3D effects were okay, but not revolutionary. They didn’t look bad, but they didn’t change the whole viewing experience for me. The best use of them I can remember was a scene at the very beginning of the movie showing the Trade Federation blockade. I really felt the sense of depth looking at the all the different ships in orbit.

After that, though… it was just The Phantom Menace. Since I enjoy the film, it was fun to watch, but no more so than it would have been in2D. If you’re one of the many people who hate it (you’re wrong, but you have a right to your opinion) I doubt this would change your mind.

(Incidentally, one thing that struck me on this viewing was how misplaced the complaints of the film being “dull” are. If anything, I felt it moved a little too fast.)

The 3D thing is just a marketing ploy. It’s an excuse to induce people to watch the same movie again. I have to wonder how long this fad will last. I mean, once they figure out that Star Wars nerds such as myself would watch the thing anyway in 2D, why should they bother making the effort?

Lastly, I have to ask: why do the 3D glasses they give you have a dark tint? That screws up the color of the movie, and frankly, when balanced against the minimal effects of the 3D, makes it arguably a less visually-appealing picture.

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Yesterday I happened to see the movie Fitzwilly starring Dick Van Dyke and Barbara Feldon. For what was basically a simple romantic caper, it was surprisingly well-done. I’m about to spoil some elements of the plot, although it’s not one of those movies that you can’t enjoy if you know the plot.

Dick Van Dyke’s character is a butler who works for an old lady who thinks she is a very wealthy heiress, but in fact, unknown to her, her riches come solely from the fact that the butler and the rest of the staff are stealing and running cons to support her lifestyle. But, of course, the butler is only doing it because she was so kind to him, and he wants to repay her. Also, at one point in the movie, Barbara Feldon says something like “most of the places you robbed were big companies”, indicating that this mitigates the severity of the offense.

Well, it’s the old story, isn’t it? Robbing from the rich to give to the poor–or in this case, the would-be poor, except they are rich from the proceeds of all the robbery. I noticed that the reviewers at IMDb got into something of a debate over the morality of the movie, specifically whether the butler’s actions were good or not. Obviously, you don’t want to read too much into a wacky romantic comedy movie, but even so there are some interesting socioeconomic ideas to kick around in this movie.

What really impressed me, though, was the chemistry between Van Dyke and Feldon. They worked very well together, and it occurred to me that if the exact same film had been made with a different couple that lacked such chemistry, it would have fallen apart. It’s not really something that a writer or a director can account for, or that can be fixed in post-production. It’s sort of like charisma, I guess, in that it’s a “wild card” that can dramatically change the complexion of the whole piece.

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Let me begin with a quote from a recent interview with my favorite writer, Chris Avellone, who said of his feelings on the digital distribution of video games:

“I love digital distribution… Of course, one of the greatest things about digital distribution is what it does to reduce the used game market. I hope digital distribution stabs the used game market in the heart.”

The used games market is upsetting to developers like Avellone because the developers make no money directly off of games sold in that market. Some say it is good for the industry as a whole, in which case perhaps the rising tide lifts all boats, but there is room for debate.

Now, here is a quote from a not-so-recent interview with my other favorite writer, W.S. Gilbert, talking about the problem of Americans pirating his and Arthur Sullivan’s comic operas:

“It is the American pirates for whom we have a deadly hatred. But we shall soon be even with them… We… are determined to do battle with every American manager who attempts to produce one of our plays without paying the fee. We have fought, we are fighting, and we intend to fight, cost what it may. The pirates are beginning to fear our pugnacity, and I think we shall win in the end.” 

Reading these two quotes set me thinking about the similarities between the medium of video games and that of theatrical performances. While selling used games is not quite analogous to pirating stage plays, it may be, I think, even more analogous than pirating video games is to pirating stage plays. And really, all are almost identical from the perspective of the creators.

Avellone inspired some anger with his comments. (Gilbert probably did too, but there was no internet in his day, so we don’t know what his fanboys and haters thought.) Since eliminating the used market would make it harder to get games cheaply, some fear it would hurt the medium, both artistically and economically.

And indeed, one could make the same argument about theater performances. After all, if Americans were putting on unlicensed performances of Gilbert and Sullivan, did that not signify healthy demand for good comic opera? I mean, contrast this with the present-day when, I suspect, most people wouldn’t go see it for free. And indeed, after so many American productions of H.M.S. Pinafore, G&S and Richard D’Oyly Carte moved to get in on the action with their next opera. (About, amusingly, pirates.)

Economically speaking, used game sellers, game pirates and theater pirates are all quite similar in their effects on the market. However, if we consider games and plays from an artistic, and not economic perspective, there are also similarities. The first thing that springs to my mind is that the practice of “modding” games is quite analogous to some of the updating and setting changes given to stage plays. I don’t know if I’d say West Side Story is to Romeo and Juliet as Counter-Strike is to Half-Life, but the practices seem to me to be similar. (There is also the fact that in both stage productions and video games, it sometimes falls to the fan community to restore a piece to its originally intended form.)

There’s more freedom, I guess, in games and plays than there is with movies and books. I suppose you could also argue the same is true with music, as musicians may cover a song and in so doing change its meaning. But since many songs ultimately depend on the skills and intentions of one performer, as opposed to being collaborative like games and plays, the analogy is not quite as good.

If you are wondering what my point with this post is, there really isn’t one. I’m just kind of musing.

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Nathaniel Chapman, a video game designer at my favorite game studio, Obsidian Entertainment, had a good post on his blog about “A Theory of Fun”. He makes a great point that “fun” doesn’t describe a game, it describes the experience you have while playing it.

His post also made me wonder: do I play video games for fun? Do I, for that matter, read books or watch movies or otherwise indulge in such pursuits for “fun”?

I mean, I obviously do it for pleasure. But what is this sensation “fun”? For instance, are my two favorite games Knights of the Old Republic II and Planescape: Torment “fun”? I don’t know if I would actually say they are. The feeling I get from them is altogether a more powerful one. It is much more like “awe” or “wonder” than “fun”.

There are some games, obviously, which I play purely for fun. Sports simulation games, especially, come under this label. But I do not think of these games as being in any way “better” than those above, though they may technically be more “fun”.

This applies to many other things, as well. The basic romance or murder-mystery novel, is, or at least used to be, regarded by many as a “fun”, cheaply thrilling reading experience, whereas reading Great Literature (or in some circles, Holy Books) is not actually a “fun” experience but definitely a better one. The same goes for films: Star Wars and Jurassic Park are “fun” films. Are films like Citizen Kane “fun”, or is the feeling they evoke different?

People often do draw a distinction between “High Art” and “Low Art” to describe this kind of thing, but the trouble with that is that it can quickly devolve into labeling things you personally dislike “Low Art”, and then it becomes simply an issue of taste.

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Before I get to my main point here, I should begin by saying that it is thought by many that fictional storytelling ought to convey a “message” or “moral” or else in various ways make people think or challenge certain beliefs they held. There are also many others, however, who believe that fiction should only entertain, and should not question assumptions or in any way engender serious thought in the audience. Those readers who hold the latter view are to be warned that the following article proceeds from the premise that fiction ought to compel thought.

If this is the case, it still leaves the problem of how to go about challenging assumptions and provoking thought. However, if a work of fiction is to challenge a belief system, it is very difficult for it not to veer into the realm of what we call “propaganda”. (I use the word in its colloquial sense, to evoke the concept of “forced moralizing”.)

A novel which challenges its readers beliefs could be viewed as merely a work of propaganda, and therefore discounted. Since the author controls all events in the narrative, it may be said that there is no lesson to learn from his/her novel, because he may manipulate it to prove whatever s/he wishes.

Because of the nature of storytelling, it has long been the case that the interaction is fundamentally one-sided. The audience is told the story, and judges it as they will. If it is a story with a “moral”, and that “moral” is in harmony with their beliefs, they will likely praise it, and if it conflicts they will probably dislike it.* They must, however, “take it or leave it”.

In this respect, video games are different from other forms of storytelling, in that audience input can change the outcome. For this reason, video games have the potential to allow a degree of give and take not allowed by the other forms. Whereas in a book or film, the audience sees the maker’s characters enacting a set piece with a particular aim, or, if it is really sophisticated, some amount of ambiguity; in video games one may choose one’s interactions with the characters and plot elements.

Now it’s true that most games are not taking full advantage of this capability, and small wonder; as it requires more work on the part of the author(s) to do it well. Most games do not even try, and even of the games which do afford the player the chance of impacting the story, many simply allow a choice between being a selfless good Samaritan and a cruel psychopath, as excellently documented by Eric at Critical Missive. There is very little in the way of true moral choice; the player merely plays through both ways so s/he can claim such as another notch on the controller.

However, there are some games–Planescape: Torment and KotOR II are my personal examples, as longtime readers were no doubt expecting–which I think do elicit an emotional response from the player so strong that the player is compelled to make a certain choice each time. At least, I am.  This is not due to unbalanced “gameplay bonuses”, but because of genuine feeling about something in the game’s story. In this respect, such games act almost as a kind of self-test, revealing something to the players about themselves. This, in turn, may lead to the player examining their own beliefs.

I am not sure that this is possible with any other medium. You might have your views on something changed by reading a novel that makes some point, but it seems more likely it will impact your view of the world around you–a very important thing, of course–but because reading a novel is rarely a test of its reader’s ability (unless it is a very bad novel) it is hard to feel the sense of personal involvement. Doubly so if the novel is trying to persuade its readers of something they are not inclined to believe.

I am not, by the way, attempting to claim that games are superior to novels or movies or anything like that. They are merely different forms, each with pros and cons.

*There are undoubtedly cases where people’s minds have been changed by works of fiction, but I still believe these are not that common, especially regarding political or religious issues. Feel free to chime with any examples of it you may have, however.