Burned After Watching

I feel like the Coen Brothers invited me over for dinner and some board games, strapped me in a La-Z-boy, and then repeatedly punched me in the face. Thanks, you two. It's been a wonderful evening.

Usually I feel quite the opposite after a Coen Brothers film. I'm laughing, relieved- excited that I saw something fresh. Not this time.

Burn After Reading is so aggravatingly over the top; so flooded with Coen conventions; so utterly stupid and irreasonably violent; that it forces a revelation on me. I can take a look back on all of Coen movies and say "They really do write the same stuff over and over." This movie functions like the twist at the end of every M. Night Shamalan film. Now, it is clear what to expect from them. Now, they are predictable. This movie bombed the illusion.

So, what is it? What is the core of the Coen Brothers' filmic lifeblood? Stupid, greedy people screw up eachother's lives. That's it. To be honest, it makes for a great movie. It has worked very well until now.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Immediate Spoilers. Don't even think about it. Seriously, I will spoil the shit out of this movie.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The movie began slow and that is mostly the trailer's fault. The plot as revealed by the trailer starts forty-five long minutes into the movie and, while we wait, we are introduced to a wide cast of characters and four unrelated factions of the main plot.

Unfotunately, this is the catch 22 of commercials. They exist to guage interest, but they spoil scenes and may prime audiences for a totally different movie (see The Fountain).

Eventually the stupid characters arrive to make stupid decisions. Let's talk about stupid characters.

Generally, I HATE stupid characters. I have recently realized that, really, it just depends. When a stupid character is done correctly, it can work. Can you tell that I'm reluctant to say that? Sometimes stupid characters make great jokes. Sometimes smart characters fall into follies that we can relate to. That's also reasonable.

But. In most movies, ignorant characters exist solely to move the plot to places that the director would have a hard time moving it to without thinking creatively. I'm saying stupid characters and their stupid decisions are a cop-out. Instead finding a solid plot point, directors just throw in a fucking moron.

Babel has a perfect example. In one scene, a Mexican man, his aunt, and two American children she is watching over are trying to cross the border into the U.S. The racist border patrols are giving them trouble, but seem like they will let them through. Yes, even they would have made it over BUT THE FUCKING MORON DIDNT LIKE THE OFFICERS LIP AND TALKED BACK. DUDE SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO PEOPLE ARE COUNTING ON YOU TO GET ACROSS THE BORDER.

Of course, he gets arrested, the plot gets worse, I get angrier, I throw a bowl of plums out the window. Whatever. I hate dumb characters.

Unless we're talking about, say, the cast of Tropic Thunder. It's a picky subject.

So, typical of most Coen movies, the cast in Burn After Reading is a bunch of morons. Fortunately, Brad Pitt makes half of his lines funny. Unfortunately, the female lead, Lilly, was WAT TOO DUMB. SO DUMB.

"You never go full retard." - Kirk Lazerus, Tropic Thunder.

I'm serious. There's dumb and there's 'I want to choke you with a queen-sized pillow soaked in ammonia'. There's 'I want to send the Coen Brothers a hot water bottle filled with bacon and bird shit.'

This woman bitches the entire movie. "I want surgery!" "I want surgery so I can begin a new life." "This will at least put a dent in the cost of my surgery." "This money will be a great start to pay for my surgery." *sob* "I've taken this body as far as it can go." Bitch. Shut. Up.

sigh

You know. I really only had two problems with this movie. Camerawork was excellent and dialogue was appropriate- as it always is in a Coen film. So, other than annoying characters, what was it?

I feel that the Coen Brothers, for the first time, forgot about their audience. They forgot about what we care about. They were so absorbed in their black comedy that they ignored the effect of the movie. The movie is undoubtedly disturbing and to me, it is depressing. To put it shortly, they murder everything we could care about in the movie.

Brad Pitt's character, as I said, was pretty funny. He's lively, young, and George Clooney shoots him in the face half way through the movie. Why? Shock value, I assume.

It's not the kind of shock that makes you say 'Oh Damn! I didn't see that coming. Wow, what a twist.' That's how I felt watching The Departed. This is the kind of shock that makes you say 'What the fuck? What the shit just happened? Grr...'

The movie has one redeeming character. The boss at HardBodies who loves Lilly. He tries to get her to recognize her true beauty, forget about the surgery, et cetera, et cetera. He's a nice guy; an innocent, patient, grandpa figure with light-blue eyes. How does this sad teddy bear die? First, John Malkovich shoots him above the heart. Still alive, he tries to get away, but Malkovich chases him outside with a small hatchet and hacks into his chest, his head, and the back of his neck. The blood spreads as the scene fades out.

Did I mention that this is the same way Steve Buscemi dies in Fargo? Even the angle was similar.

Not only did the Brothers Coen kill off both likable characters, the annoying one gets rewarded in the end. In the last scene, we are told that Lilly will get her surgery.

You know, what can I say? I agree that movies niether have to include redeeming characters nor that all likeable characters should survive. I just think it was a very poor choice. No, it was tasteless. It's Fuck You embroidered on a wedding dress; gift from daddio. Well, fuck you, Misters Coen.

I mean, do you think we're going to stop caring about your characters? Just because this is black comedy? Just because the movie is so obviously not supposed to make sense, I'm not supposed to take it seriously? Not supposed to be affected by it?

It's like they're telling me, "Look, buddy, this is just a movie, these characters are stupid, this plot is wild and unbelievable, it's ok if disturbing things happen, it's ok if we murder whomever we please. It shouldn't matter to you. Take it for what it is. A joke."

That's where I think they got it all wrong. I can't take it for what it is. I invested emotions into these characters. I knew crazy things would happen but I never thought they would bloody their hands so much for a gory joke. Nor that they would tear apart my investments by sending a parasite through the umbillical cord with which I fed from the movie.

That's why I feel burned after watching.

Burn After Reading

There are no good ideas. There are no bad ideas.

Check out this great idea. So this young actress comes to Hollywood. It's tougher than she thought. It's scary. She falls in love with another actress. The other actress wins a part over her. The young actress gets jealous and hires someone to kill her. K. And it's all going to be represented in a dream.

Sounds like a piece of shit, right? Wrong. It's Mulholland Drive. And it's incredible.

How about this one: A poor guy and a rich girl fall in love on the Titanic. Then it sinks. That's a 600 million dollar idea.

So, the next time you have an awesome idea and someone sighs at you when you explain it; just get over it. They can't see what you see.

Most video games that suck don't inherently suck. Teams get focused on the wrong attributes; they underestimate how hard it is to accomplish all of the initial ideas; they overestimate their budget. If companies had as long as they wanted to make every game, and they stayed focused, all games would be fun.

Games, unlike movies and television shows, can always be fun. Raking your yard can be fun. Make it competitive- that's easy. Make it a puzzle game, you have to change direction every time you hit a boundary. (Alright, that's easy - just rake in a spiral). Or with two players, play Isolation while you rake. Yes, I just linked my homework assignment. Scroll down for the game's description.

As Mary Poppins says:

In ev'ry job that must be done
There is an element of fun
We find the fun, and snap!
The job's a game!

This is my game professor's email sig.

This is why we are taught to pitch games. Good ideas can sound bad. All ideas can sound good. Witty lines do wonders for shitty ideas. (See: The 'Three Strikes and You're Out' Law)

I said there are no good ideas and no bad ideas. Well, there are a few really good ideas. For example, Crank's pitch sounded so good, they got funding immediately. It was something like: 'A guy is injected with a poison that will kill him unless the he keeps his adrenaline up.' Is there any better way to frame an action movie? 'Guy must do awesome shit from the beginning of the movie 'til the end.' It's like Speed, which was very successful, except it's a person instead of a bus. And the bus only had to stay over 55 mph. That's the speed limit.

I Like The New Facebook

I like how my wall, my feed, whatever it is now, is all in one place.My info is in one place. My pictures are in one place. I'm not scrolling down 6 kilometers to find out who doodled on my super wall. Not that I ever had one. Which is another reason the new facebook rocks. All those FUCKING BOXES are out of the way. THANK GOD.

Not only that, the important, simple information - my basic information, my friends, my notes, my badge - if I'm not worried about privacy issues - are neatly lined up on the left, always there to see.

Like most, I was taken aback at first. I thought it was messy and I couldn't find anything. It's like the first time you use a Mac. It's annoying for a bit, but as you learn the system you realize that everything is organized better, everything is easier to use, everything is pleasant. Deny it if you want, it's an aesthetic machine.

I like that the adverts are still unobtrusive. I like how the 'Twitter' box is still at the top. I've started using that a lot lately.

I understand that the 'wall' is harder to read now. I mean, everything is posted there now. The feed became the wall. I miss scrolling through all the messages I've gotten. Having them all stored in one place. The new facebook is focused less on the sentimental accumulation of wall posts and instead on the hear and now. Wall posts are now voicemails; no longer birthday cards stored in a shoebox. It's not as sweet or nostalgiac (or whatever if you never gave a flip about it), but it is what it is.

My only beef is that at the top. Clicking 'facebook' and clicking 'Home' bring me to the exact same page. I wish there was just one button. I mean, the links are right next to each other. It wasn't a problem in the old facebook where my only two options were 'home' and my 'profile.' Much more efficient. Less annoying. The such.

That's it.

Well, lastly, now that I'm single I'm getting ads targeting single guys. They are super annoying, especially because some of them lead to malicious websites. I know you make money facebook, so, if you could, would you please screen your ads? I don't want to chat with millions of singles at photoshoppedbreasts.net.

Haruki Murakami

Writes books I've been reading. Books I love reading.

I don't agree with everything Haruki Murakami writes. Some of his ideas annoy me. His characters think a lot, sometimes too much, sometimes to the point where they are so self-referential it is bothersome. Sometimes I say to myself, "I've thought of that." And I don't enjoy reading too many things I've already thought about. But, his characters don't cross into the aggravating zone of over-self-consciousness as often as they could, which is surprising because a lot of characters in a lot of books do.

Each of Murakami's characters openly offers their impressions of the other characters either from the outside-in or the inside-out. Sometimes descriptions will start with a physical symbol - maybe a pair of mismatched earrings - and the observing character describes what the symbol means. He or she will explain how the mismatched earrings define the other person. He or she may comment on how the observed keeps her shoulders mostly upright, yet slouches slightly when sitting. She wants to be seen as strong, he will say, but when she is away from the crowd, sitting and eating, she lets her shoulders rest. He says "She is not an inherently strong person, but she tries."

Murakami takes his time and I admire that. I have so much appreciation for those auteurs that take their time. They aren't pressured by standards and they don't conform to what is expected of them, as defined by their job: novelist, director. They aren't trying to rebel, they are just comfortable - and insistent - on doing it their way. They spend time on the details and the mood. They move through stories at the pace they want. They are bold. Their films have the utmost effect on me. David Lynch is an example of an artist that takes his time.

We all know that modern fiction, be it movie-making, novel-writing, screen-writing, etc., is pushed to be fast paced. Pushed by the businessman, the producer, the dollar and all its associated charts and calculations. Rule 1 in writing to get published is writing to keep the story going. Every action has an effect; an effect that moves the story. It's Hollywood, it's books, it's how you get paid.

Murakami spends time describing almost everything: characters, settings, feelings, words, thoughts, glances, hand shakes. Unlike wordy filler or incomprehensible symbolism that fill the pages of every book on the high-school AP Literature reading lists - Dickens, Dickinson, the lot - Murakami's words are not hard. No Old English, large words, unforgivable run-ons, layered analogies - though surely their are metaphors - are road blocks not included. All that I listed are undoubtedly important - Shakespeare is a genius, right? - but they take training to read. I'm new to the art. And even after training, it takes so much energy to read through.

I'm not saying Murakami's books are easy, like they are stupid, for young adults, or not thoughtful. They are definitely thoughtful. Most of all, though, they are relaxing.

I've never held a book that felt so much like gentle meditation. I find myself picking up the book just to relax. It's a new concept to me, a child in the Age of Technology - you know. Most books I read for the knowledge they have, i.e. the non-fiction I have around. How to Use Your Camera and Not look Like a Fool. That sort. Otherwise, I enjoy books that are intelligent, witty, and exciting, like Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom. But I sink into Murakami's books. I rest my head in them. I don't have to think if I don't want to. I could, the book offers much to learn from, but I'm not forced to. Most of it comes naturally.

Murakami writes a lot in passive voice - something I've always been told not to do. That's his style. He shows when he wants, then goes when he wants.

Maybe I don't always want to be in the middle of an action verb. Maybe I don't have the energy to follow a jumping, fighting, rocking, socking, pick-pocketing, master of movement.

When Murakami describes a room, I don't have a hard time imagining it. To me, this is unusual. When most writers start describing something, I usually start skimming the page until something important happens. His storytelling creates a whole new frame of mind. I am not rushing to the action, I am wading in the water of a pleasant stream on a sunny day explaining to five year old brother how much I enjoy the yellow glint on the clouds and the pink haze over the daisies. His book sets a mood that you fall into. Like a dream. Like a good night's sleep, I've never had a problem falling in.

Sometimes I say to myself: 'He puts too much Murakami in his characters.' His writing is too easy, he just writes about himself. I say, "His characters are all the same. They think a lot and are very intuitive, just like an author." But then I read more of his characters. Though they all possess the gift of keen people-watching, they are much different. They all have different back stories. They come from different places, eat different foods, and wear different clothes. And then again, they all contemplate loneliness and the importance of social interactions. Many have similar goals in life. To get away for a night. Or forever. They are different. They aren't. I don't know. They are so compelling, though.

Sometimes I think: "Does he rewrite anything?" His books feel like rough drafts. He just seems to go with flow. He just says what feels right at the moment. He moves on when he's ready to move on. I think, "Does he even plan?" I'm sure he does, he is a professional writer, he must plan. I can't imagine it, though. His writing style conflicts with planning.

If I wrote a book and I knew that my character was on his way to a train, he would be there pronto. I don't have the patience to detail the scenery. But, if I never specify where my character is heading, I feel that I would have no problem describing the scenery. I could explore my character's setting and also his path. The details arrive from the lack of a goal.

But this can't be how Murakami works. It wouldn't work. He must plan or the book would never have a satisfying ending. It would just end and nothing would have happened. That isn't necessarily bad, see Godard, see Neo-Realism, but I just don't think that's how Murakami works. Plus, he usually tells two or more stories at once and then ties them together as the book progresses.

I don't think he writes a few hundred pages and then quits when nothing is left to write. This made me realize that this man is really smart. I'm in awe of him; his self-control, his care. He cares about everything.

But all writers care about heir writing, right? Maybe to a certain extent, but I mostly disagree. Most have money, publication, and other people's ideas lingering in the back of their mind. Ideas that work. Ideas that sell. At the end of the day they can say "I wrote that" and "I know my writing inside and out" but it isn't pure. It isn't them. Or it is them but they are just someone else.

Murakami writes softly.

Incidentally, he is associated with the man who created my favorite video game, Earthbound. Shigesato Itoi isn't a video game guy and he only worked on four games: the Mother series and a bass-fishing game. He's a journalist and essayist. The pair co-authored a book of short stories called Yume de aimashou ("Let's meet in a dream"). I think I'll pick that up next.

The short list of Murakami's books that I've read or am currently reading. And he's already inspired a blog post.

After the Quake.
After Dark.
Kafka At the Shore.

Links:
Haruki Murakami

Shigesato Itoi
Earthbound

Logical reason why writing ideas down is important

It's arithmatic, actually.

So, you're thinking of ideas for a project, a game, a story, etc. You're thinking all day, but at a certain point, it becomes hard to build off your ideas. 

You're wasting mental storage space- and energy - on remembering the ideas you've already thought. It's overloading your short-term memory. It doesn't always go to your long-term memory, that's why we can recall plenty of times where we can't recall a great idea we've had.

So, as soon as you can, write those first ideas down, clear out the freezer, fridge, safety-deposit box, washer, dryer, whatever. 

I would say, 75% of the time, at the very least, you'll come up with more ideas while you're writing down the ones you have. Your brain automatically starts making connections to more ideas. It won't do this, most often, if it risks losing previous knowledge.

So, yeah. It's math, baby!

Today I'm Just Writing

Otherwise known as, "No one wants to read an emo post," because no one does, or "Reminding myself that the only obstacle between me and having something written, is myself writing it." And all that. Write away. Right? Got it.

Man, I haven't written but once in the last two weeks, and only to finish up a month-old game review. It's stoppage, a block, it's creating a block between me and creativity. The more I write, the more creative I feel, the looser I feel, the more verbal I am, the better words I choose - in writing and everyday communication. I talk better when I write. The stop between myself and what I want to be is 'not writing.' I do it, I did it, I'm better. Just do it. Kabam. Done. 

This is a weird post, because it's purely for me. I have some form of audience out there because this is a blog, but this is not for anyone but myself. This is not for you. That's not true, I'm just reminiscing an opening page from the book, House of Leaves. "This book is not for you" it says. Let me check. Nope, I had it right the first time. "This is not for you." This paragraph is for you though. For a minute, I'll acknowledge you're there, possibly, reading this post, which has nothing to do with you, and connecting with you, so neither of us is confused. This is not for you, even though it's a blog post, not a personal post, not in a private diary, nor sticky note, nor Moleskine pad, if you like those, that name brand of art books imo, yes, imo, in my opinion, like a text message, im or forum post. 

Honestly, I wouldn't read one god damn bit of this post. Self-referential shit makes me throw up. It really does. See my comic-strip Post Modern Throw Up. Not even a comic, but now it's out there, an unofficial release, I have another blog where I post what I will call really bad drawings, and you'll say I'm being self-deprecating, and then I'll say, look at them. It's on purpose. Or I'll at least draw them worse than I could because I don't think I can draw, which is self-deprecating.

Who can read this kind of stuff? Self-referential is a new kind of emo. You just want to say "Hey, shut the fuck up." Get over it, get over yourself, stop thinking so much, stop questioning your existence and your medium. The paper, pen, keyboard, screen, film, that you exist on and just be. Just be. Just be yourself. Tell a story or teach something important. You're on a screen, I'm on a screen, we're all on a screen, now do something. Stop talking about it.

It's old to be postmodern now. It's cliche. For the first time, thanks to those terribly unoriginal ____ Movie directors, even parodies are cliche. Since when is making fun of something cliche? Now. Now it is. And that's really all I do in this blog. It's time to step it up. When? How? Do I have the vision to become a writer for the future, or just the maturity to stop using so much obscene language.

See what writing does for me? Wonders, apparently. All these jumblings, excuse such a messy word, you- audience, come out clean, for the most part, in writing. Granted they'd read much clearer if I would reread them, but that's not for today. Today is free writing. To reference the title, I'm just writing today. No backspace, unless I misspell. I've used it once or twice, but never went back farther than a sentence.

I'm too honest, I think. When I'm writing, like now, as you may even be able to tell, I want to sayeverything that I'm thinking. I can't have a thought that may or may not add interest or important information and leave it out. I thought it, it's fair for me to say it. For you. Looking back at my writing I can say, that's everything I was thinking. That's all of it, everything on my mind. I'm not too ashamed. This is the case in real life, too. I always say what's on my mind. Correct that, I always want to say what's on my mind. I have been taught courtesy and, mostly, when to hold our tongue. So, yes, I won't say everything. But then I don't know which direction to go. I can't usually get it out of my head. If you're hanging around me, we're in a conversation and you find my conversation has died out, I haven't been moving forward as rapidly as usual, it's because something is on my mind and I don't want to say it.

Talking too much can be bothersome at times. I mean, let's say that everyone likes talking so talking a lot in itself isn't annoying. It's bothersome when I want to explain a new concept to a person, or a concept they already know about. I give some information, and they get it. I think of something else to add, and I genuinely think it will add, but they get it, I don't need to go on. Sometimes I have a hard time discerning if what I'm saying will really add something or if I'm just elonging (?) - what is that word... - making the conversation inappropriately longer. There's people in class that don't know when to shut the fuck up.

I feel a little better already. Say What. Talk it out, now talk it out. Talk it out now talk it out. Haha, I've been wanting to write that line all week I was thinking of writing this post. It's referencing: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KU3N5c2Kxnw. 

Just talk it out, just talk it out. Write, talk, Freud. One of the ways he helped or 'cured' people with emotional problems was by getting the to just talk. Talk and talk and talk. Say whatever, the first thing to come to your mind, all the things that come to your mind. Let it out.

Nitpicky Gamer: Mission: Runway

In every Nitpicky Reviewer post, I put on my critical top hat, wave my elitist cane, and chauffeur sarcastic verbiage with full intent to tear apart a piece of media as if it were supposed to be art. True, I'll never realize that criticizing games made purely for dollars doesn't mean anything.

The last few times I reviewed a game, I took notes while I was playing. This time, I'll be making notes directly into the blog. Hopefully I'll end up with a post that does not feel like a rewrite and hasan't forgotten any jokes.

First thing I thought when assigned Mission: Runway: 'Ah shit, at least I'll get a decent blog post out of it.' I'm pretty sure this game is about modeling based on the reality TV show Project Runway. I just finished another review for a game based on a TV show, Dancing with the Stars, the worst game ever released to the public. And the public was charged for it.

First thing I thought when the splash screen came up: Hotties! Hell yea, I get to look at models all week. Wait. Why is there a stoned, tired, sick-like-an-overdose, hippie princess lurching in the back? She looks lost, high, sad and beaten, and like n evolved form of the little girl from The Ring. She's even wearing the same white dress. I can't mix sexy and nightmarish. I'll get sick or feel really guilty.

The girl in front, the main focus, isn't even real. She has more Photoshopped brush strokes than a Van Gogh rip-off. Her eyes look swollen and her hair copy-and-pasted. Her boobs look flat even though some digital artist tried to make semi-circles above her dress line. She has a certain Gestalt: the sum of her pieces is a paper-doll project from a fourth grader with a pole-dancing mother.

I've never seen a girl so real and so airbrushed.

Upon entering the main menu, I was instructed to create a profile. A flashing asterisk at the bottom of the interface tells me I should start typing. Instead of the default mouse cursor, the simple arrow, I wave around a severed hand. Not the Adobe white glove, a fucking dismembered, I-love-The-Addams-Family, calloused and thick man hand. Ready to slap a bitch that missteps on the runway. That hand could tear up the whole game with the full-hand or backhand slap command. Shit, how awesome would it be to play game where the goal is to slap through terrible user interfaces, beating their structure, smashing their poorly chosen fonts, and eventually wringing the neck of the apathetic jackass that programmed them.

Clicking on the highlighted row does nothing. Less than nothing.

So. The beastly five-finger I'm waving around keeps highlighting all the rows in this interface, even the one with my instructions. Usually something highlighted is something to click, but what about the flashing asterisk. The game has temporarily stunned (not awed) me. Not being one to click around, or go with the easy solution to just start typing, I sit, stare, and just think about what I want to do. Do I click? Do I just start typing? Which will serve me better? Which am I supposed to do? I don't know, so I just sit there. I actually start to feel a little fear, a nervous ping on the backside of my melon; I want to find out what happens when I click on a highlighted row, but I have this wary feeling that I'll fuck something up.

I do it anyway. I'm both saved and extremely disappointed; clicking on any of the highlighted rows does absolutely nothing. I proceded to type my name: Leggy Blond. (Flight of the Conchords, baby).

Now I'm choosing my avatar. Honestly, I'm still blown away by how much better this is - looks, feels - than Dancing. My point of view is nested in the center of a circle of wannabe models. Or wannabe 3D models. Maybe the designers were self-deprecating, the models aren't supposed to look good because they aren't actually models. An arrow pointing left and an arrow pointing right are fixed by each side of the focal model. I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THEY DO. Fortunately, the game designers thought ahead, realizing that the large portion of their audience would be confused by such a little-known convention; a hint box appears when my mouse rolls over an arrow.



In case I didn't know what to press after deciding which model to represent, the 'Check' button also has a hint box.

Really, though, does 'OK' tell you any more than the check mark? I imagine: "Alright, I'll play with this girl. What do I do now? Oh my God, I'm so confused. How do I continue in this game?? This game sucks! I don't know what to do! Wait, there's a huge check mark. I wonder what it does. I don't want to press it because something terrible might happen. What if it exits the game? I'll just let my mouse hang over it while I think. Oh, a hint! OK, it says. OK what? I'm going to kill myself."

After selecting my avatar, I am brought to the list of episodes I will compete in throughout the season. The name of each episode is some kind of pun. For example, the first episode is called 'Freestyle Style.'

Others include:
Miss Mission Runway
Alternative Reality, an episode with alternative-style fashion
Everyday [sic?] a New Design, an episode focused on everyday clothing styles
Business Sense, an episode showcasing business formal.

Will somebody tell whoever made these titles that a pun isn't a pun IF YOU USE THE SAME WORD. A pun is a play on words. Not a play on word.

Thankfully, I'm not completely disappointed. There's an episode called Fashion of the Opera. Ok, I am disappointed.

To the Stars is another episode dedicated to designing an outfit for the Oscars. I kind of get it, but I think it should be For the Stars.

One episode name makes up for them all: Life's a Beach. That's right, punned the phrase 'Life's a bitch.' It's for the kids, mother, it's for the kids.

I select the first and only available episode: Freestyle Style. The host introduces my competitors, and, oddly, I can't tell if they are standing or sitting. They have slightly bent legs, but look like they are standing and leaning forward. Kind of like they're about to shit.

The instructions are given in paragraph form at the bottom of the screen. Halfway through the first paragraph, it flashes to the next. And when I say flashes, I mean the whole screen skips and refreshes, not just the text box. I may have finished the first paragraph, but I was steudying the setting. There's a check box at the end of each paragraph, so I assumed I would click it when I finished reading and that it wouldn't continue without me. So much for conventions. Maybe that's why there's a hint box on everything. The outsourced programmers just don't know our conventions. It confuses them, they over-reinforce us, and then they still get it wrong. I blame on the company that chose to outsource.

In the introduction to the first episode, 'everyday a new design' I am told, in a block of supposedly-spoken text to dress normal... but not be limited by my imagination. I'll let that sink in...

After the show's introduction ends. it's time to dress the model.

Wait. I just realized that I don't play as a model in this game, I play a fashion designer. I just voided half the jokes I've used so far.

So, I want to spend time trying out different outfits, seeing what the game has to offer, but the model is just standing in her underwear and I feel like a fucking pervert in a room full of game testers guys. Any second, I'm going to get a hand on my shoulder followed by the words 'Move on Chris, it's just a character model'. Fuck you, buddy- she's hot!

The interface is surprisingly, fairly intuitive. Yes, it is surprising that it appeals to any bit of my intuition. Fortunately, the interface uses pictures instead of words - clothing lists would really become tedious. Unfortunately, the pictures don't match clothes. For example:

Here's what I chose:
And here's what I got:


Also, take a look at the buttons that designate clothing styles:
1) Obligatory raonbow gradiant.
2) Skull for 'Alternative' clothing
3) Flower for 'Girly' Clothing
4) A hand-fan for glamrous clothing? No one's used a fan like that since Shakespeare died.
5) A golden star for... being good in class? I don't actually remember.
6) A douchey smiley face with a baseball cap giving you a huge thumbs-up for being such a bad ass. That woud be 'street wear.' Only those with the baddest asses rock out in street clothing. Congratulations for having the balls to be the poorest-looking model in town.

I wanted to see what the model looked like from different angle, so I clicked and dragged around her - a norm in most character creators. Nothing. Above the model are two arrows, one pointing to the right and one to the left. They look like perfectly good rotation buttons. I click to the right and my model turns black! Wait, no, this is a new model now. See, there's a new name above her head, in obscure, white font between the arrows. The girl looks identical, except her skin and the sound of her name are more black.

I cycle through the models. They all are the exact same height, have the exact same hairdo - it must be fake on some of those girls - and nearly identical jawlines.

Four small buttons hide in the bottom right of the screen: zoom-in, zoom out, rotate left, and rotate right. Rotating the girl reveals that the game's 3D modelers are either ignorant foreigners or feminist revolutionaries. I'm staring at a model with a big booty. I'll go with... outsourced unprofessional. And I guess outsourced implies a certain ignorance to the target audience's culture.

Fuck it, let's walk the runway.

First let's reinforce how stupid the developers think we are:


After tooling around for so long in the dressing room, I am supremely curious on how the game plans on judging my choices. In the ideal fashion game, the artificial intelligence would probably have long lists of clothes that don't match; an algorithm that judges poor color combinations; and, of course, some simple check to see if I wore the correct style the episode called for. I don't have those expectations for this game.

After confirming that I do, in fact, want to strut my junk down the runway, our mute announcer spells out: "We've seen some great designs [sic] now lets see how each model fared on the runway!" But momm-y, they haven't been on the runway yet. What's this lady talking aboouutt? I think they were going for 'fares on the runway.'

My model walks the runway first and then each model from each other designer follows, one at a time. The techno was pumping and both the judges and photographers were excited.

What can I say that they aren't saying right now?

Most photographers handle the boredom by taking pictures of their rivals on the opposite side.

The walks lasted about a minute and a half each and looked like they had been edited by the programmer's toddler. Random frames of disarray appeared between each cut. Some shots would linger and some were cut short - but don't get me wrong, there was no sense of flow. At one point it even cut to the same angle. You could tell because it skipped, as if were cutting away, and then the same angle loaded back up, a few pixels off center.

It wasn't until the third walk I realized my dismembered hand was covering the click-to-skip button. I must have saved half an hour when I finally used it.

This girl is a professional waitress that just fucked up her chance to be a real model.

This doesn't mind showing up in her jammies.
This girl's booty is so fly, it makes straight lines go jagged.

Now the judges will tell me how I did...

Holy shit, they just ripped me apart. What the hell did I wear that got me booted off the first show?

For a second, I thought they were going to murder me on stage.

Back at the main menu- hey wait a minute. Where did all of these options come from? Now I can practice dressing models outside of competition, look at my currently-empty photo album, and examine my wardrobe, complete with the design that just got me booted. All this for losing! And... when do I get to take photos? It says it is empty because I have not taken any photos in the photo booth. So, where is it? Maybe I have to win first. Or at least pass the first week.

This game is going down. I begin my second tour de campaign mode in the same episode: Freestyle Style; normal clothes. This time I'll follow a simple rule: pick clothing from the same category. This time, my model will only wear clothes from the 'Girly' category.

Delving deeper into the clothing styles, I see that there are actually quite a bit of designs, though they all look like variants of wrapping paper.

Moving on to jewelry... I take everything back. There's only one necklace to pick from. Wait. Ok, help me out here.

In the make-up section, my eyes feel like a 256-color processor trying to differentiate between a million shades of peach. My eyes can't tell the difference between these colors. I'm clicking the right arrow button, cycling through, and I can't even tell what I've looked at and what I haven't looked at. Sometimes the shades will cycle whole rows at a time and sometimes it will rotate over only a few shades at a time. I honestly can't tell.

Well, now I'm curious. I screenshot the first row and then click the right arrow. Comparing it to the screenshot... it moved one square to the right. I click the right arrow again, and it moves back. I can't believe it. The whole time it was rotating over one color.

Next time, just cut out the last color.

The ability to change models' hair style instantaneously is unsettling. I find myself wondering if all models are bald and they just change wigs every day.

By the way, this is what spiked hair looks like:
Yes, it cuts right through the hoody.

I submit my second design. Once again, the judges are stupified.

The model walking after mine wore an outfit designed by 'Tiffany,' a girl with no crotch.

I skip through the rest of the models to the judges.

What the fuck? What did I do wrong this time? My outfit looked way better than those other bitches.

I was so apparently bad that two of the three judges said the exact same thing. "Who will be the first loser? Sadly I think it will be you."

How do you win this fucking game?

Wait. Woah! I'm moving on to the next week! They didn't boot me after all! They booted some dude with a pink cowboy hat. What a scare. Two of those three judges really had me going.

This game accurately portrays the lack of emotion in the fashion world. The judges are stoic. The photographers and respectful and the crowd quietly golf claps. When my avatar is criticized, she puts her hands near the front of her face, does a shake left and a shake right, but is otherwise OK. When a designer is voted off, he or she just sits silently, staring off into a depressing void.

I think I've gone on long enough, I'm going to try and beat the game now. I don't seem to be getting very far - I've been told I know how to pick out a good outfit when shopping with girls - maybe it's all the movies I've watched - but it doesn't seem to have translated over to the game. On the other hand, maybe I just don't understand the subtle complexities of fashion. In any case, I'm Googling a walkthrough.

(A few days later.)

I'm on the second to last 'episode' and I am totally stuck. The two other models have been wearing completely different outfits each time I try to beat it, so I'm not picking up on the style I'm supposed to use.

I'm on the 'pick out an outfit for your host to wear out at night' show. How 'bout a black trash bag and duct tape. Shit, this isn't anything like the 'Life's a Beach' episode in which I just have to put on some kind of swimming suit to pass. I don't know what they're judging! I wore a bunch of 'alternate' clothes and 2 of the 3 judges gave me a thumbs up. I tried it again the next round, only changing a few things, and all the judges dumped me.

So, now, tying desperately to win, I start copying the other two contestants. I recreate one's all-silver outfit. Amazingly, randomly, the model wears the same outfit again, right after I've re-created it. There we are, walking the runway with the exact same outfit. Guess who gets voted off. Me. This fucking game.

I mean, you can't expect much from a game that isn't even proof-read: (You may need to click on the picture to read it; I'll have my own site one day, but for now, bear with me.)

Itit? Re-tarded.

A bit Dj Vu?

"You really took it to the mountain?"

I think he meant Hasta Manana. And since when are Spanish words capitalized?

Finally, after 20 hours of wages that will never be earned back by the game, I beat it. Celebrate with me.