Recently Viewed: Ready Player One

Did you know that the first "difficulty curve" in video game history was the result of a glitch? Even today, in the age of near-photorealistic graphics, rendering too many objects onscreen will cause a program to run more sluggishly; the reverse is also true—ergo, destroying ships in Space Invaders gradually eases the burden on the frame rate, increasing the speed of the remaining enemies. Just a bit of nerd trivia I’ve picked up, normally random and useless… but it sprang to mind when the heroes of Ready Player One encountered an unwinnable race that could only be circumvented by clipping underneath the map, greatly enriching my enjoyment of the scene.

Steven Spielberg’s latest crowd-pleaser is tailor made for people who waste hours binging online series like Boundary Break or streams of VR role-plays being invaded by two dozen deformed Sonic the Hedgehogs—in other words, people like me. While movies based on games have a poor track record, movies about gaming and the subculture surrounding it (including last year’s surprisingly enjoyable Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle) tend to fare a bit better, so I had high hopes for this one. Nevertheless, the trailer left me with some reservations, particularly surrounding Mark Rylance’s James Halliday; Spielberg’s new muse has become adept at portraying gentle grandfathers in recent years, but the previews of his understated performance here made him look like an odd choice for a whimsical Willy Wonka type. Fortunately, it makes perfect sense in context, and Rylance’s sensitive portrait of a man whose innovative vision is clouded by crippling social anxiety absolutely steals the show.

Which isn’t to say that the rest of it is bad, necessarily. There are plenty of overly bloated exposition dumps, and characters state the obvious on multiple occasions, but these flaws can be attributed to Zak Penn’s script (and were probably already present in the original novel by Ernest Cline, which I have not read). Spielberg, however, does an admirable job of elevating the material. As always, it’s a joy to witness how he adapts his style to the less restrictive medium of animation; in Ready Player One, he takes the glorious, show-stopping oner from The Adventures of Tintin and cranks it up to eleven, sculpting unbridled chaos and mayhem into operatic works of art. Sure, the result is more amusement park ride than cinematic storytelling… but hey, roller coasters are cool.

Lately, I’ve noticed anti-nostalgia sentiments growing in the darker corners of the internet; the harshest critics deride films like Rogue One: A Star Wars Story, finding them shallow and distasteful for allegedly preying upon our fond memories of childhood. Perhaps I’m simply easily manipulated… but when I’m watching Mechagodzilla throw down with the Iron Giant and Mobile Suit Gundam, or a ragtag team of fantasy archetypes bumbling through The Shining’s Overlook Hotel, I’m having way too much fun to give a damn.

Recently Viewed: The World's End (2013)

I feel as though I'm not fully prepared to write a proper review of The World's End. The previous entries in Edgar Wright's "Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy" (Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz) are so dense with subtle setups and clever payoffs that the experience of watching one of them isn't really complete until you've seen it a second time--possibly even a third or fourth. Recurring images and lines of dialogue enrich every subsequent viewing, while the visual motifs that bridge the three films (from the rapid pace of the editing to the iconic fence-hopping gag) reward longtime fans.  Of course, The World's End is more than a mere regurgitation of familiar jokes and situations; it builds upon the foundation of what came before. An integral part of that winning formula has always been the chemistry between stars Simon Pegg and Nick Frost, and this time around, the two actors/bros-for-life discover the series' most emotionally complex, challenging characters by swapping their usual archetypes. Pegg's Gary King is his least sympathetic role thus far, a slacker, Hell-raiser, and all-around loser desperate to recapture the (illusory) glory of his youth, regardless of the cost to himself and those around him. Frost's Andrew Knightley, the sober, well-adjusted straight man, once considered Gary his closest friend, loved him like a brother, but has come to resent his lack of maturity and responsibility. When the members of their high school quintet reconvene after twenty-something years to attempt their hometown's legendary pub crawl, only to discover that all of their old acquaintances have been replaced by robotic doppelgängers, Gary and Andy find their tumultuous relationship rekindled and retested over the course of one wild night as they drunkenly fight to survive--and, possibly, prevent a full-scale extraterrestrial invasion. This careful attention to characterization ensures that the humor is never forced, instead arising organically from the legitimately dramatic conflict. I eagerly look forward to revisiting The World's End and unearthing its hidden nuances--just as I sincerely hope that Pegg, Frost, and Edgar Wright will someday revisit their Cornetto Universe and transform it into something more than a loose trilogy (indeed, the closing moments of this "finale" practically demand to be expanded upon).

Reexamining "Mission: Impossible III" (2006)

In my mind, Mission: Impossible III exists as a gap between the aesthetic excesses of John Woo's Hong Kong-flavored Mission: Impossible II and the immaculately constructed thrills of Brad Bird's Ghost Protocol. My memories of seeing it during its theatrical release were hazy at best. I vaguely recalled that Tom Cruise's Ethan Hunt got married. I vaguely recalled that Philip Seymour Hoffman played the sleazy central villain. I vaguely recalled that I didn't hate it. But I couldn't have summarized the plot if you'd offered me four billion dollars and a pristine copy of the original nine-hour cut of Erich Von Stroheim's Greed.

After re-watching the film last night for the first time in six years, I think I finally understand why: it quite frankly lacks any semblance of structural elegance (possibly owing to a troubled production)--especially when compared with the franchise's fourth entry. Ghost Protocol features a cast of dynamic, well-rounded supporting characters; M:I III features a team of walking, talking props that exist solely to fill in the empty space on either side of Tom Cruise. Ghost Protocol features a series of suspenseful set pieces that gradually escalate in intensity, building up to an edge-of-your-seat climax; M:I III attempts to compensate for its somewhat repetitive action sequences (explosion, gunshot, explosion, frantic phone call, car flip, explosion) by making Agent Hunt's motives increasingly personal from one scene to the next (rescue protege, avenge protege, rescue wife). Most importantly, Ghost Protocol features narrative clarity: the viewer always understands the challenges our protagonists must face, from the monumental stakes (global nuclear holocaust) to the seemingly insurmountable obstacles (the heroes have been disavowed by their government, and must therefore complete their mission without any official support). M:I III features a plot so laden with ill-defined elements that it becomes nearly incomprehensible; I frequently found myself asking questions that should have been addressed as far back as the second draft of the script: "What are the Big Bad's long term goals?" "How large is his organization, and how many resources does it have at its disposal?" "What exactly is the Rabbit's Foot?"

(I know, I know. The Rabbit's Foot is obviously meant to be a MacGuffin. Like the wine bottles full of uranium in Alfred Hitchcock's Notorious, it could have been literally anything as long as it moved the story forward. The difference is that Hitchcock was wise enough to refrain from constantly calling attention to that fact.)

Director J.J. Abrams is a competent enough craftsman (his excellent work on the Star Trek reboot is evidence enough of that), but even he could have done little to elevate such a fundamentally flawed screenplay. His visual flair simply cannot overcome the undeniable absence of storytelling polish. That is why Ghost Protocol will endure as an action-adventure classic on par with Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Castle of Cagliostro, while Mission: Impossible III will fade into obscurity before even Woo's delightfully silly second installment.