Roleplaying Daydreams

In addition to my interest in Chinese and movies, I also enjoy playing roleplaying games - some console, but mainly tabletop:  Pathfinder, Dungeons & Dragons, Mutants & Masterminds, Champions, Warhammer Fantasy...  I've been playing for about 18 years.  Most of my closest friends are also roleplayers, and several of them act as Dungeonmaster / Gamemaster / referee for our games. 

Roleplaying inspires my imagination.  It's like writing a collaborative novel or screenplay.  Some of my roleplaying experiences have inspired my writing.  But sometimes all this inspiration can be a little frustrating.  I often find myself thinking of game settings or stories that I'd like to play in, but no one else is interested, or there's no place in our schedule for another game.  I'm planning to convert one of these ideas into the plot for a novel.  But I don't want to do that with all of them.  I don't necessarily want to create all the characters and the plot and action myself.  I like seeing what my fellow players do with the basic concept of a campaign setting, what kind of characters they think will suit that setting and how those characters will respond to the events the GM presents us with.  

When I propose one of these ideas to my gaming friends, their response is often "When are you going to start (the game)?"  This response is also a source of frustration to me.  I've tried GMing a couple of times, and I didn't really enjoy it.  I'm indecisive as a player, and I don't think an indecisive GM is a good idea.  I don't really enjoy dealing with all the rules you have to juggle in order to direct and referee a game.  I also fear that I might try too hard to tell the players how to play their characters to suit the way I envision them, which I don't think is really a good behavior for a GM.  There's a limited amount of dictating character behavior involved in GMing, but I'm afraid I might overstep the bounds. 

Of course, even just coming up with the concept and letting someone else run it might pose other problems for me.  Would I be unhappy with what someone else does with my concept?  For that reason, I try to keep my concepts pretty simple.  And just to amuse myself, I'm going to describe some of them here.

1.  When looking for a basic way to start a new fantasy campaign, I think making the player-characters professional monster hunters ought to be a good start.  It gives an opportunity for them to face a variety of challenges, which would increase in difficulty as the characters increase in level.  They could travel, and possibly become famous and wealthy.  If more complexity is desired than simply a "monster of the week", perhaps they could end up fighting an invading army using monsters as weapons, or combating a secret army of vampires/demons/extraplanar beings infiltrating their homeland.

2.  The PCs are hired by a wizard or group of wizards to collect magic item components and potion ingredients.  This gives them a convenient place to acquire some magic items, which their employer(s) might give them to help them with their tasks.  As they increase in level, they can be sent off to distant lands or long-forgotten ruins to acquire magic items that have been lost to the ages.  If one wanted a deeper story, perhaps the wizards are building an ultimate device to take over the world, or to defend it against some terrible threat predicted by prophecy.

3. A "Hyborean Age" campaign, similar to Conan the Barbarian.  Magic is less common and more feared, common components of high-magic fantasy are absent.  Plate armor is unknown, everyone doesn't have a horse, and every town doesn't have an inn.  Everything is just a little more rugged than in typical fantasy games.  It wouldn't require any major revisions to the rules of Pathfinder or D&D, except to remove the availability of some goods and services. 

4.  I like superheroes, too.  I've played in a number of games, in which the characters were all heroic defenders of a single city.  Someday I'd like to play in a campaign in which the characters are part of an organization similar to the Justice League, with lots of really powerful heroes defending the entire planet, not just one city.  But to make it more interesting for the players, the characters would be newcomers to this organization, not yet assigned to the biggest tasks.  They might be called on to work with the "big guns" occasionally for a special mission - or even to cover for the big names if the Alpha team is off-world or busy with something else.  

That's all for now.  The next time I get an idea, I'll probably add to the list.  For the present I'll go back to wistfully daydreaming about one day getting a chance to play in a campaign like one of the above.

Movie Review: Jeremiah Johnson

Jeremiah Johnson (1972)

Directed by Syndey Pollack

Starring Robert Redford, Will Geer, Stefan Gierasch, Delle Bolton, Josh Albee

Jeremiah Johnson is one of my favorite movies.  It's one of the few movies in the "Western" genre that I really like, although it isn't a typical example of that genre.  There are no cowboys, no gunfights, no stagecoaches.  The story is set about 20 years earlier than most Westerns, which most often take place in the 1870s.  The titular protagonist isn't a veteran of the Civil War, but of the Mexican War.  

In some respects Jeremiah Johnson has a similar theme to the much better known Dances With Wolves.  When I first saw Dances With Wolves, I liked it, but since I've come to find it rather disappointing.  It's pretentious and overlong.  I find it particularly annoying that the love interest for Kevin Costner's character isn't a Native American woman, but a white woman who has been raised as a Sioux, as if Kevin Costner couldn't fall in love with someone who wasn't white.  The movie has to have some backstory about the protagonist, as if to convince us we must be interested in him.  The Indians are noble and the whites are venal.  

What I like about Jeremiah Johnson is that it doesn't do any of those things.  We know he was a soldier, but we don't know anything that happened to him during the war.  He doesn't have nightmares or flashbacks.  We don't know where he came from or anything about his childhood or family background.  

Some of the people he meets are decent, some are horrid.  It doesn't matter whether they are Indians or whites.  The Indians do what they do not because they are evil or noble, but because that's what their culture tells them to do, as do the whites.  Jeremiah isn't heroically trying to save the Indians from oppression.  He's just trying to live the life he wants to live.  He marries a woman he doesn't know and falls in love with her afterward.  They don't even speak the same language.  This movie tells so much more about the experience of the West than the romanticized vision of Dances With Wolves does.

I love that this movie doesn't talk too much.  Jeremiah doesn't have a lot to say.  The wordiest character is the motormouth Del Gue (Stefan Gierasch), whose appearance just highlights how quiet Jeremiah is.  Most of Robert Redford's performance as Jeremiah involves using expressions and body language to convey thoughts and emotions, with as little dialogue as possible.  The movie gives me, as the audience, room to enjoy the gorgeous scenery of Utah and think about the themes and plot elements of the story without constantly being distracted by some character prattling.  

It's also funny.  There's a lot of gentle humor.  When Jeremiah, new to the life of a trapper and hunter, worries that his legs will give him away when hiding behind his horse during an elk hunt, his mentor Bear Claw (Will Geer) laughs, "Elk don't know how many legs a horse has got!"  Jeremiah first meets Del Gue buried up to his neck by Indians who are thwarted from taking Gue's scalp by the fact that Gue shaves his head.  Though the movie has a lot of serious and painful moments, they are offset by the funny ones.

There's romance, too.  As I mentioned above, Jeremiah is forced into a marriage he doesn't want.  But he comes to love his bride, even though they don't speak the same language.  He also develops affection for his adopted son.  The whole story is told with great simplicity, which makes it both charming and satisfying.

This movie also makes me cry.  I cry at the end, every time.  I'm not quite sure what I'm crying for.  But I'm glad the movie ends as abruptly as it does.  I don't want to be told what happens next.  I can imagine this film being made now would include an annoying voiceover epilogue by Del Gue telling us what happened to Jeremiah.  Instead, we are simply told that as far as the singer knows, Jeremiah Johnson is out there still.

I hope he is.

Movie Review: Bunraku

I'm not sure what the makers of this 2010 movie meant by titling it after the Japanese art of puppetry in which the puppeteers are always visible on the stage, dressed in all black like ninja.  Perhaps they were implying that they intended to make a movie in which you can see the people behind the camera.  If that was their intent, it's certainly true.  You can see that the people behind this film must like comic books, anime, kung fu action movies, samurai films, and highly stylized films like Sin City.

What the filmmakers clearly didn't want for this movie was a coherent story or characters that are in any way similar to real people.  Everything in Bunraku is highly stylized, just like the sets.  Most of the characters don't even have names; they have titles, such as Killer #2 (Kevin McKidd) and The Bartender (Woody Harrelson).  One of the main protagonists (Josh Hartnett) is never given a title or a name.  The other character who serves somewhat as the audience POV character does have a name, Yoshi (Japanese pop star / actor Gack't).  The decision whether to give a character a name, a title or nothing seems to be arbitrary.  

As I mentioned, the story isn't very coherent.  Yoshi and the nameless guy both seem to want something from the big bad guy, Nicola the Woodcutter (Ron Perlman), who gets both a name and a title.  Voiceover narration explains that the movie is set in a post-apocalyptic world in which guns have been outlawed, so everyone fights with swords and knives except for Yoshi and Hartnet's character, who use their fists.  This provides ample opportunity for lots of well-choregraphed fight scenes.  The movie opens with a particularly striking fight scene in which Killer #2 eliminates a whole gang of opponents with slick dance-like moves.  I must say McKidd steals every scene he's in.  Gack't isn't bad, either.

The rest of the performances, however, aren't much to brag about.  Hartnett is playing the typical mysterious stranger and doing his best grim and gritty Clint Eastwood impression, but it's not very impressive.  His only saving grace as a character is the decision to give him a paralyzing fear of heights.  Ron Perlman is mostly wasted, having to mouth a lot of pompous and meaningless dialog.  Harrelson suffers the same problem, and doesn't get much else to do until the end of the movie.  

The film also includes Demi Moore as Nicola's main squeeze, Alexandra, but her appearance provides no enjoyment at all.  Presumably the director was looking for a reason to have another big name in the cast.  Her character was also intended to give some backstory for The Bartender, but it isn't very successful.

There are a lot of things to enjoy about this movie other than the plot and dialog, though.  It looks really cool.  The stylized sets and the costumes are fun to look at.  There are lots of amusing little stylistic tricks, such as showing the English subtitles for Japanese dialog in text boxes that resemble the dialog boxes in comic books; adding video game sound effects to a car chase scene; The Bartender telling a revised version of Spider-Man's story as if it was an ancient myth; and even the narration that resembles the thought balloons you might find in a comic book.  Everything is color-coded, too, not in the sense of good guys in white and bad guys in black, but by having different scenes toned or lit in different colors.  There are also some scenes that are entirely animated, or presented in silhouette.  The few "exterior" scenes that are included are clearly shot on a soundstage using fake trees and rocks that don't even pretend to look realistic.

Only at the end of the movie does the story really gel, and the characters become more real.  I think that's the problem with this movie.  They waited too long to make me care about these people.  Despite that, I rather enjoyed Bunraku in a cheesy, too many in-jokes sort of way.  Your mileage may vary.

Confessions of a Voiceover Snob

I just finished reading this article, tweeted by film critic Roger Ebert.  It made me think about something I've harped about on several occasions after seeing a movie that included voiceover or narration. 

I've been a voiceover snob.  Like others mentioned in the article, I've poo-pooed films that use voiceovers or narrators to add to the film.  I say, "Show, don't tell".  I sneer and label the director and screenwriters inadequate to the task of telling a story through the medium of motion pictures.

But after reading that article, I took a second look at my attitude and decided that I've been wrong, at least some of the time.  Not every film with voiceover or narration is using it as the result of bad writing.  

I remind myself that film is not just a visual medium; it's a medium of sound as well.  Or text, if we're talking about silent or films.  Silent films often included explanatory text as well as dialogue in the intertitles.  I love silent movies.  It's never bothered me to read a title card that explains some bit of background.  Why, then, do I criticize  filmmakers for using the auditory version of this technique? 

There are times when the voiceover narration is bad, when it does exactly what I accused it of doing: trying to make up for an otherwise inadequate script (or perhaps an inadequate budget).  But that isn't true in every film.  Take, for example, John Carter, which I saw recently.  The film opens with a voiceover by Mark Strong, explaining a little of what has happened to Mars.  It tells you who the major players are and why such a desolate world can contain the highly developed technological societies John Carter encounters when he travels there.  It's relatively brief and not too detailed.  It's not much different from the famous opening crawl of Star Wars, which for some reason (probably nostalgic fondness) has never provoked my irritation.   John Carter had a more than adequate budget, and a reasonably good quality screenplay.  It would probably have worked just as well without the voiceover, but for audiences who may never have read any of Burroughs' Barsoom books or even heard of them, it contained some helpful information.  Having the characters talk about all that stuff might have been boring, and interrupted the flow of the action.  It's an action movie, after all.  You don't want the characters to stop and have long expository conversations.

There are other times that voiceover is wrong.  When I saw the remake of Conan the Barbarian last year, as soon as I heard Morgan Freeman providing the voiceover at the beginning, I cringed.  Morgan Freeman has become almost too common as a narrator.  His popularity has become a joke.  He's also not in the film.  Perhaps it would have been better to have someone who's in the film do the voiceover.  Making the voiceover script less pompous would have worked better, too.  I doubt anyone went to see that movie who didn't already have some familiarity with Conan.  

But that film aside, I shall stop immediately declaring that any film with voiceover is automatically not as good as it would have been without voiceover.  I shall take each film as it comes and judge the voiceover on its own merits.  Sometimes it will enhance, sometimes it will detract, just like any other stylistic choice.  I shall cease being a voiceover snob forthwith.

Movie Review: Constantine

This 2005 movie starring Keanu Reeves has come to be a favorite of mine.  After watching it recently with friends who'd never seen it, I decided to write a review.

Spoiler Warning
I'm going to describe some elements of the plot, so if you don't want to know, stop reading now.
 

Based on the Hellblazer comic from DC’s Vertigo imprint, the movie chronicles demon-hunter John Constantine’s efforts to prevent the end of the world. The story doesn’t start out that way, though. Constantine is presented as a bitter, cynical man who knows he’s doomed to Hell and wants to buy his way into Heaven by banishing demons. He’s aided by an assortment of odd characters who provide him with supporting abilities and information and are faithful to him despite his off-putting personality.

But when he meets an L.A. cop (The Mummy's Rachel Weisz) whose twin sister has died under mysterious circumstances, Constantine finds himself drawn into preventing an apocalyptic plot. Of course Constantine has to become the hero, whether he wants to or not. Fortunately the filmmakers found a way to make this happen that wasn’t trite or predictable.

One of the interesting features of this story is that it presents the Catholic view of Heaven and Hell as the prevailing reality. They didn’t try to shy away from specific elements of Catholicism, like the concept that suicide is a sin or the importance of Latin as the language of the Church’s holy mysteries. Constantine is also shown as a chain-smoker, something you don’t see much in movies with a present-day setting. And the locations where the story takes place aren’t slick and clean as they might be in other films; everything is run-down, worn, and slightly dreary, reflecting the way Constantine himself sees the world.

The vision of Hell that’s presented in the movie isn’t a particularly original one, but it’s visually interesting, especially the imagery of the demons Constantine has to battle. They aren’t the clichéd horned and hoofed variety, which is good because that imagery wouldn’t be frightening and these demons are at least a little bit scary. The movie wisely doesn’t spend too much time in Hell, but manages to get the point across that Hell is a Very Bad Place quickly and effectively.

The story also builds suspense nicely as it introduces Constantine and Angela, the police detective who becomes his ‘client’, and explains how the story of her sister’s death intertwines with the coming threat of Armageddon. Information is provided at just the right pace, and scary moments and plot revelations are timed for maximum impact. The whole thing works like a smoothly oiled machine, without any jarring moments that take the viewer out of the story. I’ve heard some complaints that Keanu Reeves wasn’t good in the part, but I found his performance just fine. My only quibble is that he seems a little too clean-cut and healthy for the nicotine-addicted Constantine.

This movie isn’t breaking any new ground, but it handles its subject material well. I was particularly pleased with the casting of the always interesting Tilda Swinton as the archangel Gabriel. She really makes the movie for me, along with Peter Stormare as Old Scratch himself. It’s hard to find a new way to present good and evil, angels and demons, that makes them interesting, but the makers of Constantine managed it. 

 If you can’t tell already, I like this movie a lot.  I think Constantine is an underrated gem.

Movie Review: Death Trance

First, a warning:  If you prefer movies that have a story with a beginning, middle and conclusion, you may not care for the 2005 Japanese film Death Trance.

If you prefer movies where the characters all have names, you might not like Death Trance, either.

We'd put this movie in our Netflix queue out of curiosity, and the synopsis indicated that it might be a fantasy action-adventure in a historic or semi-historical setting.  It isn't.

Death Trance takes place in a world where monks look after evil artifacts in Buddhist shrines, and warriors roam the landscape carrying both katanas and guns.  Mostly they roam on foot, although a motorcycle did show up in one scene.  Why the world is like this isn't explained.  The combination of anachronistic details and the lack of backstory reminded me of anime.  I don't know if this movie is based on any manga or anime, but it certainly made me feel like I was watching a live-action anime adaptation.

The plot is pretty basic:  Someone has stolen an artifact from a temple, an object that could bring about the end of the world.  A young, inexperienced and under-prepared monk is sent to retrieve it.  That summary probably makes you think you know what to expect from this movie, but you're wrong.  The nameless monk is the POV character, but he isn't the hero.  I'm not sure anyone is a hero in this film.  

The monk doesn't have any trouble tracking down the man who stole the artifact, a character referred to only as "Coffin Man".  None of the other characters have any trouble finding him, either.  They run around the forest in weird costumes, repeatedly trying to take the artifact from him.  Stephen Seagal's son Kentaro shows up as one of the Mad Max-esque characters who want to possess this object, his voice clearly dubbed by someone who sounds tougher (and probably speaks better Japanese).  And a six-year-old girl with almost no dialogue manages to be very creepy.  Nobody wins, or maybe Coffin Man does, depending on your definition of "winning". 

That description makes the movie sound vague and probably not very appealing, but it was actually fun.  It has a sense of humor and doesn't take itself too seriously.  It was clearly done with a small budget because there are hardly any sets, but it doesn't look cheap or tacky.  The fight scenes are exciting, and the enigmatic anti-heroes are cool.  It's a little like a Japanese version of High Plains Drifter.  

While this kind of movie probably isn't for everyone, if you're interested in seeing something fun and a bit unusual, give Death Trance a look.  If you can't take it seriously, you can amuse yourself by making fun of all the 'nameless anti-hero' movie tropes it borrows and turns on their ears.

The Price of Fame

Reading Stephen Fry's latest blog entry has brought to mind a thought I've had previously about the challenges of being a celebrity, particularly an actor.

I wouldn't want to be an actor.  When I think of what that entails, it seems to me to be as awful an occupation as being a sewer technician or working in a slaughterhouse.  It's a more creatively satisfying occupation, but at least when one goes home from work at the end of a long day of chopping up cow parts, one doesn't have to worry about international media repeating one sentence you said that day, out of context, over and over as if it was a proclamation from the Pope.

But it isn't just that sort of media frenzy that makes acting seem so unappealing to me.  It's the thought of all the things actors have to do to carry out their craft.  I'm primarily thinking of film and television acting, but some of the same concerns apply to stage acting as well.

About 25 years ago while I was an undergrad, one of my art professors decided to make an artistic video.  It was the kind of thing that might have aired on the PBS series 'Alive From Off Center', before the advent of YouTube.  My professor asked for some of his students to act as production crew on the filming.  For about 6 weeks one summer I participated in the production as a still photographer.  I sat on set and watched much of the shooting, and even had a couple of opportunities to go on location.

It was then that I learned just how boring and tedious shooting a film can be, at least for those who aren't appearing on camera.  It involves a lot of sitting around being quiet while the camera is rolling, punctuated by quick flurries of activity as the set is reset for another take, or everything is shifted for a new shot or scene.  For the actors it may be a bit more interesting, as between takes they can be reviewing the script or getting their makeup touched up.  But it must get very tedious if the director likes to do a lot of takes.

An actor has to play a character.  That character might be furiously angry, or weeping, or deeply in love.  I can't imagine that there's any way to simulate those emotions without actually feeling them.  But when the scene is over, or the director says, "Cut", that emotion, no matter how powerful, must be switched off.  If you're a film or tv actor, you may have to switch it back on again in a few minutes when the director asks for a retake.  I can only try to imagine how stressful it must be to do that all day long.

Film and tv actors also work very long hours.  Now that it's easier to film at night, they may have to shoot until 4:00 a.m.  When they're shooting they often don't get any time off.  They can't go home in the evenings if they're on location.  They can't spend time with their families and friends, or watch the films and tv shows they like to watch, or spend hours playing video games, or indulge in hobbies that take a lot of time and equipment.  They have to live in hotel rooms or apartments.  They may be working in marvelous locations, but have little time to enjoy the scenery.

We all have to work with people we don't like.  But actors not only have to work with people they don't like, they may have to pretend those people are their best friends, or even their lovers.  They may have to simulate sexual activity with a partner for whom they have no attraction.  They have to do all these things in front of dozens of other people.  They may have to repeat the actions over and over, because the sound or the lighting was wrong, or someone missed a cue, or the director just wants a few more takes to choose from in the editing suite.

Is it any wonder that actors seem to do such a poor job of choosing life partners?  They are thrown together with a small group of other people for some very intense activity, taken away from their "normal" lives.  Maybe they have to act out a deep relationship with some of those people.  That feeling can bleed over into "real" life, and suddenly you've got a scandal as Actor A and Actor B leave their respective spouses or long-term partners to be with each other - only to find after a few months or years that the only thing they really had in common was that film/tv show/play they were both appearing in.  Then, because they are celebrities, the avaricious public want to know every detail of their embarrassing or saddening personal situation.  Ordinary people probably make just as many bad choices in romance as actors do, but of course we don't hear about it on E!.

Actors make friends while they're working, just as we all make friends with our co-workers.  But in ordinary jobs we don't usually find ourselves spending 16 hours a day with a small group of people, then not seeing those people again for months or years.   And what about the friends an actor had before taking up that occupation?  What happens to the old friends after an actor becomes famous and sought-after?  It must be a bit like having a co-worker / friend suddenly get a promotion.  It's difficult to remain friends when your friend becomes a boss.  It must be equally difficult to remain friends with someone who's become a huge celebrity.

In addition to all these other unpleasant activities, actors are expected to do publicity for the film, show or play they're appearing in.  They have to appear on chat shows and radio programs and be interviewed by newspapers and magazines and websites.  They're expected to have Twitter accounts and a presence on Facebook.  But many actors are by nature private people.  The characters they play are their public personae.  They don't enjoy talking about themselves.  They don't want to share their personal lives with the public.  Some of them aren't really very interesting people, others aren't very articulate or witty.  They have to appear on programs with interviewers or presenters who don't like them, or find themselves being overshadowed by someone who is more witty or just more self-aggrandizing than they are.

It's a constant grind, too, for them to keep themselves in the public eye, so the studios won't forget who they are.  There are a few actors whose names are big enough that they can pick and choose their roles and take a year off from performing without fear that they'll be forgotten. But for most actors it's audition, audition, audition, public appearances, and taking whatever roles they can get.

It's not just to keep the studio heads from forgetting who they are; that's how they earn their living.  No one is going to pay them to stay home and play with their kids.  They have to pay their agents and publicists.  They have to pay for their houses and health insurance and taxes and utilities just like the rest of us.  And because acting isn't a stable job with regular hours, they don't get employer-provided benefits.  The studio may pay for an actor's medical care while she's working on a studio project, but once she's not working for that studio she's on her own.  Those immensely wealthy actors with enormous mansions and yachts and garages full of expensive cars have agents and financial planners helping them get the best rates for their work and invest it wisely.  The rest just have to hope they can get a role in a big movie or a tv series that lasts more than 3 episodes so they can pay the bills.

And finally, what happens when an actor suffers a long-term illness, or just has a reversal of fortune and stops getting parts?  How often have you heard someone's name and said, "Is he/she still alive?"  How must it feel to be forgotten, to be considered "too old" for the roles you'd like to play, or to be typecast because you gained fame in a particular part and now all the casting directors think you can't play anything else?

Now that I think about it, perhaps being an actor isn't so different from my life after all.  I don't have to go into a freezing cold movie set, take off all my clothes, and pretend to be having sex with someone I don't know while half a dozen people watch.  And I don't have to pay someone 10% of my income to help me find a job, or appear on the David Letterman show and have him ask me a lot of smarmy questions that he doesn't really care about..  But I still have to work with people I don't like, and pretend emotions I'm not really feeling, and worry that management will decide I'm too old, and fret about how to pay the bills, just like actors.

I still wouldn't want to be an actor, though.