Showing posts with label story telling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label story telling. Show all posts

Saturday, December 19, 2015

The One Problem I Had with The Force Awakens

This last Thursday I finally finished my first semester of graduate school.  I also saw Episode VII: The Force Awakens that night.

Many people who have written about Episode VII have felt the need to talk about what the original Star Wars trilogy meant to them.  Unlike a lot of the people who attended the premiere, I am not a hardcore fan of the series.  I quite enjoy the original trilogy and would even call A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back great movies, but I don't hold the same level of reverence for the series a lot of people do.  That's not to pretend I'm above geeky obsessions; half of this blog is me picking apart geeky works of fiction that I unapologetically love to obsess over.  It's just that I didn't grow up with Star Wars the way many of the more dedicated fans have, and as a result it doesn't represent more to me than a well-done, exciting trilogy- which, of course, means I still hold it in high regard.

With that said, I thoroughly enjoyed the movie.  I think, other than the dazzling visuals and imaginative universe that are trademarks of the Star Wars universe, what truly made this movie good was its cast of characters.  I loved the introduction of Finn, Rey, and Poe; I loved the way they fit Han Solo, General Leia, and Luke Skywalker in; more than anything, though, I loved the dynamics between these characters and the relationships this film created.

I also very much enjoyed the absence of a character internet writer Seanbaby
perfectly described as "a floppy-eared moon fuck in black face"

That's what made the film for me.  Yes, they cut and pasted a lot of the same story beats from A New Hope.  Considering how much pressure they had from the fans to make movies that "actually felt like Star Wars" I don't blame them for adhering so closely to the original trilogy.  But while the story beats borrow a lot from the beginning of Episode IV, the characters in this movie are very much their own.  Their interactions and journeys are enough, at least to me, to call Episode VII a success.

I've seen a lot of criticisms of the new film, some of which I think are unfair and some of which I think are fair but didn't quite ruin the experience for me.  An example of the former is the complaint that Kylo Ren doesn't feel as intimidating as Darth Vader; the movie makes it clear that an intimidating, inhuman villain like Darth Vader isn't what they are going for in Kylo Ren.  An example of the latter is the complaint about how Han stumbles across Finn and Rey; the level of perfect coincidence is definitely ridiculous and made me cringe as a writer, but as a viewer I was just glad to see Han Solo show up again on the big screen even if what got him there was kinda silly.

But there was one major problem I had with the film that jarred me out of the experience: it had to do with Finn.

In what will be obvious to most people reading this but not quite everyone: SPOILERS AHEAD.  You should only read on if you have already seen the movie.

Finn is introduced to us as a storm trooper who doesn't like violence and hates his role as a storm trooper for the First Order, the successor to the Empire from the original trilogy.  The inner conflict is seen through Finn's body language before we even see his face.  As part of the group sent to Jakku to rough up Max von Sydow's village to find the map that contains the location of Luke Skywalker, Finn sees an ally of his get gunned down right before his very eyes.  This nameless storm trooper's bloody hand desperately flails around as he is killed by one of the resisting villagers, leaving blood-stained finger prints on Finn's helmet.  This kicks off Finn's arc as a storm trooper who hates the violence he finds himself mixed up in.

This is not the look of someone who enjoys being surrounded by killing.

Shortly thereafter Finn helps Poe Dameron, one of the Resistance's top pilots, escape from captivity.  When Poe asks Finn why he is breaking him out, Finn responds with "because it's the right thing to do" after everything he has seen.  It's a well-done moment that begins Finn's arc from storm trooper tired of killing to someone who fights for the Resistance against the evil First Order.  When done right, this character archetype can be one of the most interesting types of characters out there.

Then his arc loses consistency only minutes after Finn breaks Poe out of his cell.

 When Finn takes Poe to the hangar to escape, they end up commandeering a TIE fighter.  Poe, being the pilot he is, takes the controls of the TIE fighter.  That leaves Finn in charge of the turret attached to the back.  When he climbs into the turret seat Finn's struggle is entirely external, trying to figure out how the controls for the turret work.  As soon as he figures out how to work the controls, he gleefully starts killing his former allies as he makes his escape with Poe.

The tone shift is jarring.  In the scene before he stood somberly over his dead ally, clearly upset to see the death of one of his own.  Then, in the very next scene, he's blasting away at the only people he'd known ever since he was kidnapped as a child and forced into the storm trooper army.

The horrors of war are truly too much for one man to bear...
unless that man gets to shoot a totally fucking sweet laser turret!

Speaking of being kidnapped as a child and forced into the First Order army, let's think about that for a moment.  If a large portion of storm troopers are people who were kidnapped as children and forced to become soldiers, that makes Finn's lack of remorse even more weird.  How many people does he kill who are just as scared as he is, but haven't summed up the courage to defect from the First Order?

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying he should've not shot at them or that this needed to be a film where he is constantly haunted by unrelenting guilt for the entirety of the film.  What I am saying is that it was off-putting to see Finn, a person who knows the plight of the common storm trooper better than anyone, switch from being shaken by the death of a fellow storm trooper to gleefully shooting at them without even a hint of hesitation.

This trend continues throughout the movie.  We see later how much he fears The First Order, especially when he wants to flee to the outer system to escape their reaches, but we never see much about his connection to his former fellow troops.  Later, when he first picks up Luke's light saber, we see him face down a fellow storm trooper who busts out what looks like a laser chainsaw that calls Finn "traitor!" before initiating an attacking.  I thought this might be a former friend of his, yelling "traitor!" because they feel betrayed by Finn switching sides.  Maybe they would have an emotionally impactful showdown and we'd see Finn feel some sort of inner conflict about fighting former comrades of his.

Unfortunately, it just turns into a normal fight against a generic storm trooper who just happens to have a cool looking weapon.  Finn goes on to keep mowing down storm trooper after storm trooper without a second thought.  Later he helps blow up the Starkiller, which is the size of a small planet.  As someone who used to work there Finn surely had to have people he knew there, but he helps initiate the plan and carry it out without any sort of internal turmoil.

Who needs moral ambiguity and nuance when you have a motherfucking lightsaber?

Again, I'm not saying Finn shouldn't have done anything he did.  The First Order is clearly terrible and, even if the storm troopers might be human beings coerced into fighting for them, any storm trooper who fired a gun at the Resistance were fighting on the side of planet-destroying fascists.  They needed to be dealt with for the good of the galaxy.

But when you have someone who grew up a storm trooper, who knew the human side of them, who understood that many of them probably didn't want to be there but felt like they had no choice, it's strange to see Finn kill wave after wave of them without even blinking.  Even a throwaway line or facial expression to show any hint of conflict would've shown hints of an internal struggle that Finn was trying to overcome.


So that was my biggest problem with Episode VII.  Rather than having a character arc that shows Finn gradually come to terms with the fact that he has to fight former comrades of his, we go from him being shaken up by the death of a comrade to joyfully shooting at other storm troopers in the time it takes some people to take a dump.

Regardless, I still very much enjoyed the movie.  When the beginning text crawl and music started I found myself more excited than I thought I would be.  Despite how early I had woken up that day and how much I had done, I never felt the least bit tired.  The movie raced by and I felt like it ended too soon, despite a run time of two hours and fifteen minutes.

I can't wait to see where this trilogy goes.  This movie set up a lot of promising character arcs and interesting directions for the dynamics between them to grow.  Hopefully the next two movies include more complex character moments for Finn and everyone else. Given what this movie showed me, I have confidence they'll build something wonderful.

Thursday, May 14, 2015

Nerd Culture, Artistic Merit, and Criticism

I am a proud nerd.  I play video games, read graphic novels and manga, and a few weeks ago I went to Wonder Con to be surrounded by my people.  If there is someone out there who thinks they could ever beat me in a pointless trivia contest about the nerdy shit I like, especially Final Fantasy games, they've got another thing coming.

A picture of me at Wonder Con, my natural habitat.

One of the biggest debates right now involving nerd culture is whether or not video games can legitimately be considered art.  There are a ton of positions people have taken in the debate- some say yes simply because it is a form of entertainment and that's enough to qualify it as art; some say yes because they think well made games have artistic merit beyond entertainment; some say no because they don't think games have any artistic merit; some say no, not out of disdain, but because they believe the interactive nature of games qualifies it as something else instead; some don't care because they think "real" art is a bullshit concept; some don't care because they simply don't care what their games are considered, they just want to play them.

Obviously, gamers as a whole have responded overwhelmingly in favor of considering games to be art.  As for me, I fall somewhere between "yes, video games at their best have artistic merit to them" and "I don't really give a shit because 'artistic merit' is an ambiguous, ever-changing, and often elitist concept" in the way I view it.  I personally play most of the video games I do because I enjoy the narratives in them, and I think the interactivity games have between player and character can add a certain dimension to story telling that other mediums don't have.  I don't really care about the opinion of the type of snobs who debate what "real" art is.  But, since I do think games have a lot to offer as an artistic medium for people who are serious about story telling, I'd therefore like them taken seriously by aspiring story-tellers so that we can continue to see great games get made.  I've written about poignant moments in video games before, and have used video game stories and characters as examples in other posts I've written about story telling.

Yet I've also noticed an alarming double standard in a substantial portion of the gaming community.  We want to claim our games are worth the classification of "art", and therefore have merit to them.  But, at the same time, whenever someone critically examines our medium in a way we don't like- especially when it comes to serious social issues like racism or sexism- a lot of us collectively lose. Our. Shit.

 http://www.newstatesman.com/sites/default/files/images/Screen%20Shot%202012-07-06%20at%2008_51_33.png
On second thought, nah, creating a game where you beat up a woman for gently calling out sexism
in games is a totally healthy and productive form of discourse, and not at all horrifyingly atrocious.

Aside from hordes of misogynists trying to run women off the internet (or out of campus speaking engagements with threats of school shootings) for speaking up about misogyny in games, one of the most common responses from gamers to these types of criticisms is "leave us alone, it's just entertainment!"  And yes, games certainly are entertainment, too.  But if we want our medium to be taken seriously- and it's pretty clear that most of us do- then we have to stop throwing a violent tantrum every time someone critiques our medium in a way we don't like.

Don't get me wrong, I get it.  We used to constantly be given shit for our past time, with criticisms ranging from gaming being a waste of time to it being used as a scapegoat for horrible acts of violence like school shootings.  Now, just when society is starting to take the medium more seriously, and with it also now becoming a popular activity that a substantial portion of the population enjoys, there are social critics saying our hobby has issues with sexism, or racism, or homophobia?  I just want to play video games in peace and have that be respected, damn it!

But here's the thing: we should be happy this is happening.  Because serious conversations about these topics don't happen for shit that no one takes seriously.  Has anyone ever had an in depth, nuanced conversation about race and gender dynamics in Family Circus?  Of course not, because nobody gives a shit.  The only time Family Circus has ever brought anything worthwhile to the table was when the comic was dubbed over by a PG-13 Robot created by a mohawk-sporting badass who wanted to teach that robot about the human concepts of friendship and absolute despair.


Thanks, PG-13 Bot.

We're living during a time where people are having serious conversations about video games through the lens of different social science, humanities, and social justice lenses.  When I went to Wonder Con, there were actually panels about these sorts of topics.  Panels about video games (and comics) and where they intersect with different topics like psychology, sociology, feminism, ethnic studies, anthropology, political science, economics, and more.  This isn't something that would be happening if we didn't take games seriously.

Taking something seriously as an art form doesn't only mean praising what it does well.  It means critically analyzing it, examining the medium through various lenses and trying to make thoughtful observations about what you experience.  We can't expect all of those observations to be ones we as gamers like.  And creating a shit storm each time that happens is like a teenager begging their parents for a car, getting it, and then getting upset whenever they have to pay for gas or take responsibility whenever they get into an accident.

I love gaming, and I will continue to think games have merit as an art form.  For that very same reason, I will also continue trying to think critically about games when playing them.  Including thinking about serious topics that might bring up uncomfortable observations.  Because both games and the gaming community do have some serious issues that need addressing (and subsequent action to be taken).  Not because there is inherently anything wrong with gaming or the people in it, as these issues can be found in anywhere; rather, because these games are created within societies that have these same issues.  And if we can't come to terms with the idea of games being analyzed in ways we don't like, then we have no business claiming games should be taken seriously.

But I think we should.  Because games are awesome for so many reasons, and have a lot to offer beyond only entertainment.  It's on us, as gamers, to decide if we want to recognize that, and everything that comes with it.