Even More Days Of The Pandemic (August 2020)

Okay. So, COVID-19 is still around. If any curves were flattened, they wound up ballooning back up in the last few months. A vaccine may or may not be possible soon, who knows? As records and milestones continue to be shattered, it seems like it's all getting worse before it gets better.

From June onward, the order to stay at home had concluded and I had to resume work on a week-on week-off schedule. Which is fine and all--things have to be done. I do find it rather head-scratching that isolation and curve-flattening was pounded to the ground so hard in March and April, but now that the numbers have risen so much we're more focused on reopening all the things and returning to normal. Chances are it could all take a step back in the coming weeks. I have a feeling that summer holidays, nation-wide protests, and school reopenings might catalyze a surge in cases. There's no telling what will happen.

All that being said, I don't begrudge or fear going to work or going outside. If cases manage to go down and everybody reports in full-time again, I will be looking forward to actually accomplishing my goals and talking to teammates again. I just question if this is the right time.

 

Between June and now, I had a larger concern over my dad's health. He had gone to the hospital for an pancreatic attack. After ten days there, he was discharged, but with no immediate answers for what caused it. It wasn't until a few weeks later, and after more tests, that the cause was found: a gallstone attack. After even more tests and such, he finally had surgery to remove his gallbladder. This had taken up much of my time and energy for the last couple of months. It was worrying and anxious for a time, but now that he's recovering, there is a sense of relief and some semblance of normalcy was restored.

While I still have an on/off schedule, there are still some things I've managed to accomplish that I might not have made time for in the past. I haven't done a lot of cleaning like I did before, and my efforts to organize my collections fell to the wayside. However, here are the few things I managed to do.

• With July's Camp National Novel Writing Month, I started an effort to rewrite/edit an eight-year-old manuscript I had (originally titled Gods Among Men, this was a sci-fi novel about a utopic city policed by superheroes). Though I managed to redo a few chapters (probably 10,000 words), my motivation ran dry. Video games sucked up all my attention, sadly. As old as the project is, I question if it's a good enough premise to continue working with and if it deserves to be rewritten and finalized.
  
• Lately, I figured out that I'm less in the mood for writing and more in the mood for editing. So I looked back on Heathen, fixed the first couple of chapters, and I have them ready to pass through critique groups (I'll probably start using Scribophile more for this, in addition to a Utah-based group I'm in). This novel came together well, but the second act needs work. The coming weeks will be a good time to try and straighten it all out.
• My foray into video games, as well as things related to video game history (mostly Youtube essays, watching folks play games, watching The Wizard), has given me the notion to attempt a story one day centered around gaming. I'm still in the brainstorming phase--what I have in mind would probably be like Ready Player One crossed with 1984.
  
• I've played a lot of video games.
• Played and finished the story for The Last of Us Part II. This became kind of a big deal since I saw so much outrage over story leaks and such--it actually had the bizarre effect of making me play while judging it critically. By the game's end, I felt it was a bold story told well--it could be better in some ways, sure, but I'm not nearly as enraged by it as other folks are, and I admire many aspects of it. I've already cleaned up collectables and such--it'll only be a matter of time before I platinum it.
• I started Ghosts of Tsushima. Hot dang, this game's beautiful and the combat is satisfying. I can see myself engrossed in this for a good long time.
• I picked up a game called Ancestor: The Humankind Odyssey--since I already played games that put me in the place of sharks and goats, I figure why not apes now? First attempt playing, I didn't even know what I was doing and took way too long figuring out how to progress. I started a second playthrough, but since I didn't know how to switch between apes, I wound up killing most of my tribe (intentionally and unintentionally) and the next generation only had three apes left. I plan on starting a third playthrough now to build a proper tribe and keep them all alive.
• I bought, downloaded, and started Subnautica. I was sold on its concept, and it's the kind of thing I wish I could have thought of for a novel idea. The game was so addicting and immersive that I couldn't put it down for a whole week, until I platinumed it.
  
• I finished Saints Row: The Third with a platinum. Pretty juvenile, but it was colorful, funny, and fairly addicting. Not sure I'd want to pick it back up with the remastered edition--I'll have to think about it.
• Played and finished Maneater. Took all of three days to achieve a platinum. I enjoyed it though.
• Played Bad North in full a few times (including a hard playthrough), and I found it surprisingly engaging. After a few weeks, I completed all the trophies.
  
• Of all the games I can play on the PS4, I wound up playing Solitaire for quite a few hours. Woo!
  
• Played a bit more of Doom Eternal. A few online matches, started the extra lives playthrough, and mopped up a couple more trophies.
  
• Played the original Far Cry on the PC. I don't think it aged well, but it might fare better on a console.
• I've spent three hours playing Escape Rosecliff Island. It's pretty relaxing to focus on simple puzzles.
  
• Started a playthrough of Phantasmagoria on the PC. This is one of those games from the 90s I had always heard about but couldn't play. Might as well try it out now.
• Started a playthrough on Disco Elysium, after hearing about its rave reviews and such. I am genuinely floored by it.
• Started a game called Factorio. This could become obsessive.
  
• Played some rounds of Post Void. It's a pretty nutty game, but it's good in short bursts.
  
• After seeing some videos and such on older games, I decided to dust off my SNES Mini. I finally got around to modding it with more games, and I've been exploring a bunch of them. I seem to always go back to playing Super Mario World and Super Mario All-Stars--those are the SNES titles I always coveted the most.
• I also managed to hook up a spare PS4 controller to my PC to facilitate more gaming. It works pretty well on some Steam games I have (like Doom). I can't really do the mouse and keyboard with shooter games anymore, it just feels too weird now.
• My parents revealed that they were considering a PS3 to purchase for games (simple ones like Peggle, Pain, Tetris, etc), on top of being a movie and music player. I decided to part with a spare PS3 slim model I had, which meant taking time to install the right games on it and set it up for them. They're making good use out of it--probably better than me, since I was only using it as a movie player beforehand.
• Plenty of movies seen.
• Watched Koyaanisqatsi again.
  
• I did start a Christopher Nolan marathon in anticipation of Tenet, and with the intention of blogging deeper thoughts about his filmography. My efforts fell to the wayside unfortunately, and I stopped after The Dark Knight trilogy. Picked it up again only recently with Inception, and there's only a few more after that.
  
• Revisited an old favorite on a new UHD--Lawrence of Arabia. The movie remains a personal favorite, and in 4K the film is the sharpest and cleanest I've seen it. The scenery and scale was always jaw-dropping, and now it's even better than ever.
• Marathoned the three Star Trek films from the Kelvin timeline (in 4K!). I know these films probably sideline the deeper sci-fi roots in favor of spectacle, but I still think they're awesome.
• Revisited Baby Driver. I believe it holds up fine and I'm still enamored by the characters and the film's style.
  
• Watched most of the Mission Impossible movies--numbers 3 - 6, which are the best ones anyway imo. It's a dang good run of movies, all in good quality with jaw-dropping stunts.
• Watched War of the Worlds, the 1953 and 2005 adaptations. I had forgotten how intense both of these are.
• One film that I never understood the love for was Come and See. With the Criterion release, I decided to give it another shot. Holy cow, this movie is a bleak, gut-wrenching trip. I found it far more engaging and vivid on this viewing.
• Also revisited 1917 and found it much more engaging than the first viewing. It could become a new favorite over time.
  
• Revisited 1979's Zombie on UHD. I wasn't sure if I liked this movie that much, but on a rewatch it came off as campy, gory schlock and I enjoyed it that way. In 4K, this film is surprisingly sharp and vibrant.
• Had a Jaws marathon (first one in 4K). The first two hold up fine (in fact, my appreciation for the original keeps going up), the last two not so much. 
• Saw the first two Transporter movies again. The first one was always a fair, unassuming flick with some way cool fighting, and I still like it. The second one is such a mixed bag--few good scenes mixed with a lot of stupid stuff, but it's still enjoyable.
• Caught up on the older Alfred Hitchcock movies I own and haven't seen yet: Murder!, The Ring, Champagne, The Manxman, and Jamaica Inn. Some of these are fair and have good photography, others are rather droll. I think Hitchcock hit his stride the best between the 40s and 60s. In fact, after all of these I revisited North By Northwest and enjoyed it just as much as the first few times I've seen it--that one remains my favorite of his.
• I received a collection of films by Shinya Tsukamoto, and I viewed all the films I hadn't seen before. Not sure what to think of many of them--Tokyo Fist and Bullet Ballet are alright, found Vital and Kotoko a little boring, but I did enjoy A Snake of June, Haze, and The Adventure of Denchu-Kozo.
  
• Hot Rod is funny.
• Revisited Payback. I'm pretty sure I saw the theatrical version years ago and didn't care for it. I seemed to like it better this time around with the "Straight Up" cut. Doubt I'll want to see it a third time though.
• I bought a copy of Sleepaway Camp while I could and gave it a spin. Wow, that ending can't be unseen. 
• Cobra, with Sylvester Stallone, is pretty rad.
  
• Earth vs the Spider--it's so bad, it's good! 
• There is a movie from the 70s called Mr. No Legs. It's about a hitman in a wheelchair. I can't make this stuff up.
  
• For whatever odd reason, I wound up renting Freedom Writers and Dangerous Minds within the same week. It's a good double-feature.
  
• Caught up on some outstanding 2019 films I missed last year. The Lighthouse is a trip. Frozen II, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, Ma, and Uncut Gems are all decent. Cats is awful.
• I'm starting to look at what 2020 films are actually available and working on staying on top of them. Was impressed by The Invisible Man and Swallow. Couple of good documentaries: Have a Good Trip and You Don't Nomi. Bad Boys For Life is decent. The Wrong Missy is a little agitating. The Old Guard sucks. And, if you'll excuse the absurdity of this--a movie called Butt Boy exists. It's not as raunchy and tasteless as it sounds, it's more of a surreal detective story and it'll probably be the weirdest film I'll see this year.
  
• Seen my fair share of short films, including a bunch of early Scorsese ones.
  
• Found time to listen to some music albums.
  
• Thievery Corporation's Symphonik is as beautiful as they come.
• Geogaddi by Boards of Canada is solid. I always approached this one with caution since "Gyroscope" is such an unsettling and discordant track (I blame the film Sinister for that). But as experimental as the album sounds, there is good harmony to it and most of the album sounds smooth to the ears in its own way. I might like Tomorrow's Harvest a grade better though.
• I finally sat down and listened to Groove Armada's Black Light and White Light attentively. These are often cited as the band's best, but I wasn't seeing it for the longest time. The vocals put me off for the longest time, and honestly, I still find them garish. But, I do appreciate the instrumentation and the New Wave style they aimed for. Some of the tracks work for me, some don't. If I listen to it enough, it just sinks in as a fair listen, but I still vastly prefer Vertigo, Goodbye Country (Hello Nightclub), and Lovebox over these. I am looking forward to their upcoming album though--"Get Out On The Dancefloor" is good!
  
• Anathema's Serenades is a heck of a lot darker and louder than I expected. It's fine for what it is, but I do like their later albums more.
• In an effort to stay current, I did listen to a few 2020 albums on Amazon Unlimited. Did enjoy Lady Gaga's Chromatica. Eminem's Music to be Murdered By is pretty vulgar, but I appreciate the beats and the speed of the rap is often impressive. Where The Light Is by Surfaces is good, but I'm not sure I liked it enough to hear again.
  
• Gave the greatest hits of 3 Doors Down a spin. Turns out I have heard most of their songs before, but I never knew it was them. As heavy as they are, a lot of their tunes are rather melodramatic and "emo," but I actually don't mind their songs that much--the instrumentations are good.
• One of many albums I had for years that I never listened to was Vertigo by a band (maybe a Christian one?) called RingsEnd. The cover art always put me off because it looked cheap. I think I only bought it because I mistook them for a different band: Ringside. I gotta say though, RingsEnd's Vertigo is solid. More of a jazz fusion thing I guess, but I appreciate the style and sound of it. Was surprised to hear a cover of The Turtles' "Happy Together," but I actually think it was the low point of the album.
• I started dabbling in some bizarre subgenres. One is chap-hop, which is like hip-hip done by very polite English gentlemen. I primarily listened to songs by Professor Elemental, and they're a hoot. For the one story idea I've mulled over, I also dipped into some chiptune music. A band called she has made some good albums, but I'm also quite smitten by the remixes people do for video game themes found all over Youtube.
• What is it with bardcore these days? It seems like all of the suddenly in 2020, medieval and old-world covers are popping up all over Youtube for a wide variety of old hits. Somebody did the Doom theme this way and it sounds perfect. Ditto for Linkin Park's "Numb," and some songs by Nirvana and Metallica. Heck, even a song like "Stayin' Alive" is pretty fresh coming from a lute. I might have to make a playlist of these songs for regular listening--they're all pretty smooth.
• Few books finished.
• I completed the first two deluxe volumes of the manga Alita: Battle Angel. The anime and live-action movie had me sold on this franchise already, but the original comic doesn't disappoint. It's a fast, smooth read with a lovable heroine, lots of action, and amazing artwork.
• Read and finished Delia Owens' Where The Crawdads Sing. It's not the kind of book that's in my comfort zone, but positive reviews compelled me to give it a try, and I figured I needed to read something with more literary value. While I don't think the book is perfect or anything, I did find it more engaging than I expected, and it's pretty touching in a way.
• Finished The Liminal War by Ayize Jama-Everett. Didn't realize it was part two in a series, so I'm probably missing out on a lot of details and setups. Still, I wasn't a fan of the book. I found the characters rather unlikable, and I lost interest in the plot.
• Finished Stephen Baxter's Ultima. Once again, I didn't realize this was part two of something. I thought Romans in space could be a fascinating enough premise. Even though Baxter has a lot of unique ideas (and I assume good research) stuffed into this tome, the characters fell flat for me, the story is long and moved too slowly, and I didn't even really understand what it was supposed to be about. I found it disappointing, but I also hear that its predecessor is better.
• Read Mike Mignola's The Amazing Screw-On Head and Other Curious Objects. It's pretty short and shallow, but strangely endearing and amusing. I actually like it.
• Read an Aliens comic: More Human Than Human. Despite a few cool ideas and such, it was just alright.
• Read four volumes of the graphic novel adaptation of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? While I felt the first volume of this was over-written in a bad way, the second, third, and fourth were pretty awesome and faithful to the source. Will be interested to read the last two volumes.
• Speaking of PKD, I cracked open a book of short stories and read "We Can Remember It For You Wholesale," which is the basis for the movie Total Recall. The story solely focuses on the guy going in for a virtual vacation. It's not nearly as action-packed and big-scale as the movie is, but in a usual PKD fashion, the story remains interesting in the way it twists reality around and such. It's pretty decent, and I really ought to read the other stories (maybe "Minority Report" next?).
  
• Started HG Wells' War of the Worlds, since I saw the two movies. The book is rather old-fashioned, but it doesn't hold back on the grim details--I can see why it's a classic.
• Been reading a book on the artwork of Salvador Dali. That guy was a trip.

Work schedules being what they are, I find myself facing nearly three weeks of leave, lasting until mid-September. Some of that was already spent editing the novel I drafted last April, and that task could go on for a long. I have other plans in mind (primarily dropping stuff off with Goodwill, washing the car, and maybe finding a good local place to take photos), but I keep pushing them off. It's hard to find motivation when most days are rainy, I keep waking up late, and the pandemic continues to batter our region.

Times have been troubling. Other than a few work weeks and some writing, I've been passing time with my media collection, often times finding something enriching or interesting. I have wondered about the future often, but it depends on many factors that may be out of my control--for now, I am content and will find ways to keep improving my well-being.

A few ways to pass time in 2020.

Book Review: Where The Crawdads Sing (Delia Owens)

No matter how civilized a society can become, human behavior remains rooted in biological codes that are naturally embedded in all of us. We like to think that we're all above nature in a way as we splurge on technology, dress ourselves up, and pave over forests to build cities. When you take all of that away from a person, we might see a savage. In the setting of the deep south, you might even say a savage would be nothing more than a crawdad scurrying in the mud.

Delia Owens' Where The Crawdads Sings paints a somber portrait of such a character. Kya Clark, age six, is abandoned by her family, which had suffered for years under the abuse of a drunken, violent father. Left on her own, Kya has no choice but to fend for herself, slowly learning how to find and cook her own food, find money, and survive in the marsh. As the years go on, a boy named Tate befriends her and teaches her to read, which empowers her to eventually learn science and poetry. However, a romantic connection falls apart when Tate runs off to college and doesn't return when promised. Kya inevitably falls for the local bad boy, Chase, who winds up dead some time later. As you might guess, Kya is the prime suspect, but did she really commit murder?

What's most admirable about this book is its dedication to building up its main character and showing us the full scope of her heart and soul. Considering that we follow her from childhood to adulthood, we see for ourselves how she learns, copes, and evolves with the times. One can't help but to feel sorry for the girl when she's constantly abandoned and shunned (maybe that's a cheap trick for sympathy, but hot dang, it works). But I eventually grew to appreciate the adult Kya as her introspection frequently draws insightful connections in nature--both actual nature and human nature. Themes concerning human love, hate, life, and the coming of age elevates this narrative into a more artistic sphere. The prose bears a light, heartfelt touch, especially when it divulges into random poems. However, the story is not afraid to bluntly dive into darker territory.

This book is at its best when it follows Kya on her day-to-day struggles and shows her growth. Of course, when you stitch a book together with all these slices of life, narrative momentum comes off as a slow burn. It flares up only when the emotions do, at those key moments where Kya is abandoned or scorned--in-between, it's a little dry. Beyond that, the book also weaves a mystery throughout the whole length, until the timelines align and we have a back-and-forth between an ongoing trial and flashbacks. The trial read fine, but the investigation leading up to it fell way flat for me. The sheriff struck me as a flat stereotype whose sole interest was lunch (in fact, you can't go ten pages in this book without a mention of grits, butter beans, biscuits, or some other kind of down home cooking). And honestly, most other side character came off as one-dimensional, and most dialogue that occurs feels less authentic and more like a movie script.

One minor problem kept popping up, which many readers may dismiss, but to me it makes the work feel undercooked. There's an awful lot of headhopping--instances in which the prose flips from one character's POV to another's without a break or indication. It really stands out to me when Kya thinks one thing on one sentence then Chase or somebody else thinks something in the next. Some of the introspection given doesn't even add that much (for example, there is a huge paragraph from a lawyer's POV, which is probably generates tension, but this is the only moment in the story where he has any thoughts revealed and I question why even). The way different thoughts invade the narrative comes off as clunky, but it's not nearly as clunky as the moments in which Kya may reflect on other characters and flashbacks on the fly, so we're told about the townsfolk and their connection to her only during certain moments (like the trial) instead of having them planted, foreshadowed, or having their interaction shown to us. The drama between Tate and his father seemed tacked-on at the last minute, and if it was cut, nothing would really change. It feels as though a lot of small details could have been fleshed out in a more organic way, but instead we have scattered paragraphs that flatly tell us things, not show.

Fortunately, these issues are diluted to the point where it never confused or upset me, I just find it bewildering at times. The majority of the book read smoothly, with ample amounts of detail, but not so much that I got bored. I actually found myself looking forward to reading each section every night, to see more of the Marsh Girl and read what happens next. Hardly a perfect book, but the heart and soul of the story and character makes it a decent read anyway. I admire the book the most for the way it handles the main character, her scientific musings, and a few good metaphors.

8/10

Film Review: The Wizard (1989)

Video games are more than just games. They can be a sport. In the 1980s, it might sound laughable and silly. Now, 30+ years later, and those Starcraft tournaments in South Korea are no joke. Some players have an uncanny knack for winning--they are wizards.

The Wizard is a cute little yarn about a kid with special needs named Jimmy (Luke Edwards). His parents undergo an ugly divorce, so he wants to run off to California. He winds up doing so accompanied by his brother Corey (Fred Savage). Along the way, they befriend a girl (Jenny Lewis). When it becomes apparent that they need cash to move on, the trio discovers that Jimmy is a bonafide video game wizard, and they push themselves into a tournament.

My interest to see this movie stemmed from some recent video game history videos I stumbled across on Youtube (as such, it comes as no surprise to me that this movie is loaded with Nintendo propaganda). The Wizard has the distinction of being the first time any American had ever laid eyes on Super Mario Bros 3--prior to this, the game had been released and played all over Japan and it was rightfully hyped as a masterclass platformer. Couple that with a memorable "so bad it's good" scene where a rival kid shows off the Power Glove, and the film becomes a kitschy time capsule of Nintendo's highs and lows by the end of the decade.

If this movie was strictly about games and Nintendo, I would have been more invested. And this could have been easy for the film if it focused strictly on the tournament. Alas, it treats it as an ends rather than a means. Without indulging in the specific characteristics of what defines Jimmy as a "wizard," we're left with a rather lame melodrama about kids running away and avoiding adult problems. Right from the start, the film shoots its credibility in the foot as the two brothers somehow cross Death Valley without dying. To say nothing about the useless subplot in which a bounty hunter chases after these kids (with bumbling antics to ensue).

I see what the film's doing though. So-many years after movies like Rocky and The Karate Kid successfully showcased underdogs (and kids) building themselves up to become champions, The Wizard carbon-copies the plot structure expecting us to care about these lost underdog kids before proving themselves in a major championship. It doesn't really work because most of the film is more interested in showing how Jimmy is emotionally tormented (and is bullied in at least one scene) and exploring the trauma that makes him clam up as he does. But it does so in the framework of a chase film--one that seems cheaply shot all across California (and possibly Nevada or Utah, it all looks similar).

What's really odd about this flick is that the adult actors inject their performances with way more energy and camp than the kids, who play it pretty straight and serious. It becomes tonally weird--stiff in some places, goofy in others. Most of the money seems to be put in the few scenes that do feature video games, but it still amounts to nothing more than a room full of cheering kids in front of three or so screens. The film is competently shot and edited, for what it's worth. Every time an emotional moment is warranted, an 80s rock ballad kicks in, and I found it quite annoying.

I would have been six when this came out, and if I saw the film then I might have enjoyed it just fine. Even with an enthusiasm for the 80s and gaming culture, I can't really get invested in this as an adult--there's simply not enough gaming involved, and the actual meat of this story just doesn't work.

Oh, and those final championship scenes with Super Mario Bros 3? I was really distracted by how poorly these kids played it. Jimmy hesitates way too much and he could have gotten the warp whistle way earlier than the castle level. In fact, all these kids sucked at it. When I was ten, I could have pwned them all. For all that goes, here's a guy who beat most of the game in 10 minutes--he surpassed the scores in the movie within 30 seconds.

Also, screw the Power Glove. It's so bad.

4/10

Video Game Review: Maneater (2020)

So, they made a game where you play a shark. Cool!

Maneater is a small, short, single-player open-world RPG where you control a bull shark from cradle to grave. This isn't any old shark--its mama was caught and slain by a particularly brutish fisherman, whose antics are captured in cut-scenes that resemble a reality TV series. Left alone and disfigured, your shark has to eat everything it can until it grows and evolves into a vicious killer. Inevitably, you will have to face Scaly Pete again and take revenge.

The story is pretty sparse and does little to cover up the fact that you are indeed playing a shark that rampages all over beaches, boats, and docks to slaughter hundreds of innocent people. From a moral standpoint, the game is rather troubling (and can mere revenge really justify such an angsty, nihilistic power fantasy?).

But hey, if you overlook that aspect, the game is an absolute hoot. And it's easy to forgive the violence given how cartoony, colorful, and over-the-top this game becomes. Once you get past the opening phases and level up the shark, you'll reach a point where you can confront bigger predators of the sea. With enough chaos, you'll eventually attract hunters--if you overcome them, you unlock upgrades that can turn your shark into a more evolved monstrosity (including upgrades offering bone armor, electric teeth, or poisonous attacks--so much for biological realism). Boss fights become challenging, but the game rarely felt insurmountable. In a good ten, twelve, twenty hours, you can potentially max out your shark, beat every enemy, and finish every quest.

The things you do as a shark are rather limited--in each area, you're given tasks that must be fulfilled to satisfy certain requirements to unlock more of the story. Most of this amounts to simply eating a bunch of fish (or humans, *gasp!*). Exploration takes the edge off of the combat as you scour a lot of odd places, tunnels, and sewers for collectables. The open-world aspect of the game is what attracted me the most, and I found it modestly satisfying--but I can't deny that it has the potential to become repetitive and droll (but thankfully it's short and small compared to many other games).

Fighting as a shark is a hit-and-a-miss. It can be immensely fun (albeit frantic) to leap over boats, crush their hulls, and eat their gun-toting occupants. It's a lot less satisfying to fight other fish, gaters, and whales though. One particular Orca was an absolute pain even with full upgrades. The biggest issue is that your attacks are always one-dimensional--with your teeth. Maybe your bone fins and crushing weight can help, but it's easy to lose your prey if they swim out of the path of your jaws. You will need to keep swinging the camera around to track your surroundings and keep yourself from becoming hunted.

Few minor glitches introduced a few small headaches to the experience. Game crashes and frame rate drops can happen. If you're hunting for collectables, there is a chance the game won't count something (although trophy hunters should be aware that opening the gates between areas counts towards the trophy--it's not explicitly stated anywhere, I just found out first-hand when I opened a gate and the thing just popped). The biggest shortcoming to this game is, simply, it's shortness. Once it's done, there's little incentive to go back and revisit it (although this can be said about many open-world titles).

What I like the most is, simply, the flow of the game and how satisfying it was to skim the waters, eat some prey, and explore a cute little bayou. I overcame a few challenges, but they weren't all that terrible and the game takes very little time to master and complete. It all looks slick and the sound quality is decent. It's good fun for a few good days. If you like the open-world RPG type games, and have no qualms about playing a predatory animal, then this would be a fair recommendation. When it's on sale, that is.

7/10

An Appreciation of Memento

WARNING: SPOILERS FOLLOW

Have you ever heard of a movie that plays backwards? Chances are you might have run across this already with at least two unique movies. One is Gaspar Noé's Irréversible, which is hardly a pleasant experience. The other: Christopher Nolan's Memento, and it's a dang good film.

Show me your tats.

I had first heard about Memento via word-of-mouth around 2002. It just came up in a casual conversation while I attended college class--a girl and a few other dudes were talking about weird, mind-bending movies they liked, and me being a film fan, I mentally took note of them and saw them all in my own good time (this was also where I first heard about 12 Monkeys and perhaps a few other flicks). I can't remember exactly when I actually first saw Memento, but I'm pretty sure it was between 2006 and 2007, when I had a fairly beefy DVD collection. I had blind-bought the two-disc special edition that came in a notebook-style package--this and the notebook-style edition of Se7en made a pretty mean double-feature. Once I saw the movie on my parents' plasma TV, I was thoroughly enamored by the film's style, and more importantly, its narrative. It's remains an essential part of my collection ever since, and in 2010, I've gone on to upgrade it with the 10th anniversary Blu-Ray.

Remember Sammy Jankis

Memento begins at the story's end, with Leonard murdering Teddy. At this point, we don't even know who either of these people are, why the murder happened, or how it was justified. It takes the course of the whole movie to answer all these questions, and it does so by showing the previous scene, then the previous scene, then the previous scene, all the way to the beginning. At that point, Teddy himself lays out all the answers in a very straightforward manner, and it suggests that Leonard's story really begins far beyond the immediate scope of the movie--those aspects are actually shown with additional flashbacks and tangents.

It may seem like a convoluted mess, but the film never feels messy, illogical, or incomplete by its end. Every story question is answered, and often in ways that are not what one would expect. A number of small details connect to the events and show consistency, despite the fact that the events are shown in reverse. What ultimately happens is that the movie dumps a bunch of puzzle pieces on the frame, and they're methodically put together by the end--it's not only a fascinating (and perhaps troubling) story, but it's also immensely satisfying to see how it all connects.

The bigger reason why this movie works is because there's clear attention to the chronological events of the story (which, according to Russian formalism, is the fabula, and in the movie this aspect is reversed) and the timing of how those events are shown in the narrative (the syuzhet, which plays forward in the movie). The syuzhet by nature requires certain things to happen in a typical three-act structure--characters, conflict, story all need to be introduced in a way that's clear to us. Even though Memento begins at its end, it still manages to achieve these goals. Additionally, the first few scenes also succeed in establishing key information (Leonard's "condition," what he believes his backstory is) and establishing the first line of questions that lead to deeper connections in the events of the past (how did Leonard get Teddy in this position, who was Teddy anyway, who's Natalie, etc). Through these basic set-ups, the rest of the syuzhet continues and succeeds in answering vital story questions, even though the events are mixed-up. The fact that this all works is something I find awe-inspiring.

To help keep things straight, some segments of the movie are shown in black-and-white. These include segments in which Leonard talks to somebody on the phone (whose identity comes into question later on, creating some short-lived tension in a space where tension is otherwise dry. Not to mention, this is another story question that is eventually answered). Scenes involving Sammy Jankis are also in black-and-white. Done this way, it's easy to interpret which scenes are part of the main narrative and which ones are mere asides. Curiously though, flashbacks showing Leonard's wife and the night they were attacked are all in color--I suspect all the color scenes in the film are meant to reflect everything that feels the most real to Leonard, while all the black-and-white scenes represent memories that have faded.

At the very least, we can take most of the color scenes as the objective reality of the movie--we see for ourselves how truths shift in between the moments in which Leonard's memory lapses. One minute, Natalie seems like a compassionate ally--when we see what happens fifteen minutes earlier, we find out she's really manipulative, scheming, and spiteful. For long stretches of time, we speculate on Teddy's identity, believing he could be a criminal or a snitch with ties to Jimmy Grantz, but we eventually learn he's really a cop who helped Leonard for over a year. As for Leonard, we see for ourselves that he's a tragic figure stuck on a perpetual quest to take revenge on a man who may not even exist, for a death that was ultimately Leonard's fault and nobody else's.

What makes all the truth so fickle is that the flashbacks and black-and-white scenes are subjective. As flashes of Leonard's memory, they are prone to mistakes and failure. The biggest lapse is how Leonard conflates himself with Sammy Jankis--a detail that Teddy, standing in as an objective third party, confirms for the audience. Up to that moment, however, our perception of Sammy's story is thrown into question a few times when the film makes it a point to mirror Leonard's and Sammy's use of the insulin syringe. There is also one point in the film (about 90 minutes in) where Sammy is shown sitting in an institution, but for a few frames we actually see Leonard instead (and here's the screenshot to prove it).

Sammy Jankis, I presume?

The narrative itself assumes its twisty, unpredictable form because many aspects are unreliable by nature, and they all come into play in Leonard's story.

• The written word--notes can be fabricated, censored, and burned.
• Incomplete information--John G could be anybody, including Teddy.
• Trust in people--once Leonard's condition is known, Natalie, Teddy, and the guy at the hotel all take advantage of it in their own ways.
• Perception--there is one point where Leonard holds a note upside-down and mistakes a 9 for a 6, and he busts down the wrong hotel room door.

Not even Leonard's tattoos are 100% reliable, even though they supposedly contain the core information he needs to find vengeance, and are thus made permanent. His tats are ultimately derived from notes on index cards, and those cards can be fabricated and changed just as easily as any other note (and we see this happen when Leonard decides to tattoo Teddy's license plate on himself).

The only reliable sources of truth stem from the following aspects:

• Knowledge of oneself--Leonard can see through certain deception as he recognizes his own handwriting.
• Human behavior--Leonard points out in one monologue that he can tell when people are lying. His work as an insurance investigator gifted him with an ability to read people (it's also worth noting that, as an insurance guy, he's not so much interested in truth as he is in constructing narratives to justify withholding payment--therefore, he spends the movie looking for reasons, not truth).
  
• Physical evidence--Leonard had certain things that belonged to his wife, and we see them all in use in the flashbacks. On top of that, when things happen (such as the shoot-out with Dodd), there is evidence left over (the Jaguar's window shatters, which is something Teddy notices towards the film's beginning).

The film's last lines is a voice-over in which Leonard talks about believing in an objective reality beyond his own mind. However, I can't help but to reflect on how ironic, if not hypocritical, this is coming from a guy who willingly set Teddy up to be killed by his own faulty memory, guided by just a few key notes. Just a moment earlier, Leonard even said "We all lie to ourselves to be happy."

Leonard's Life In Ruins

Most of the film takes place in an undefined American town somewhere in the west (this was filmed in Los Angeles). Leonard spends his whole time living and working from his hotel room. He had a home at one point, but we don't know what became of it. We can only assume that while he's on the hunt for his wife's killer, his residence is temporary. And yet, this could describe his state of being as well--as his memory fades every fifteen minutes, every moment becomes temporary. In this respect, the setting becomes symbolic of the character--things are always transient, on-the-move, and never permanent.

When Leonard kills Jimmy Grantz, and later Teddy, he does so in a crummy, ruined house amidst some kind of industrial zone (this was all filmed near an oil refinery). This is also where he burns the last few things that belonged to his dead wife. It seems as though any time somebody is killed or something is destroyed, it happens here--in a place of decay and desolation. Aside from adding grit and atmosphere to these scenes, it is an apt reflection of the damage that Leonard causes.

A literal Blue Ruin.

Mirror Games

Mirrors occur in movies all the time, usually to represent themes of self-reflection, or duality. In Kubrick's The Shining, mirrors appear in just about any scene where Jack Nicholson encounters the supernatural--it was a subtle way to suggest that the ghosts he saw might have all been in his own head.

In Memento, there are no actual ghosts, but Leonard remains haunted by his own past, and he spends an ample amount of screen time staring into mirrors. He does so alone, he does so with Natalie, and even during the flashback scenes, it's shown that his head is bashed into a mirror. What I take away from all of this is that there are two sides to Leonard, and every time he faces a mirror, he's facing his own dark history, and he's forced to face his own dark self.

Leonard split himself up in a few different ways. On one hand, there is the confusion between himself and Sammy Jankis. Although Sammy is probably a real client he had, his case and the way he murdered his wife is Leonard's story--all pieces of the past he had forgotten because of his condition, but even when the truth is revealed he refuses to accept it.

There is dialogue scattered around the movie, largely from Teddy, which commands Leonard to face himself and see the person he had become--thus, it is explicitly suggested that Leonard has multiple sides. In fact, he seems to embody any persona he wants. When he kills Jimmy Grantz, he literally becomes a new person by taking Jimmy's clothes and car (and some attention is drawn to these aspects, becoming story questions that are eventually answered). The man is like a shapeshifter, and part of the "puzzle" of the film is seeing all the different sides of him in so many different forms. I tend to think that the moment his head hit the mirror in the bathroom is the moment his self was shattered--it not only made his memory faulty, it literally shattered his persona and changed him.

Other characters have multiple sides too. Teddy is a cop, but he often exploits Leonard's memory lapses to change his identity depending on the situation (he presents himself as a snitch to Jimmy Grantz in one scene, but Leonard sees through it). The fact that he has two names--Teddy, or John G--further suggests that he's shifty. But even though the film makes it clear that Leonard doesn't trust him, he winds up becoming the most trustworthy character, since he's helped Leonard out of numerous jams and is the only one who slams the truth in Leonard's face. Natalie most blatantly shows her dual-nature thanks to the way the film shows her deception with back-to-back scenes--just when it looks like she helps Leonard out of mere kindness, we see shortly afterwards that she actually insults Leonard until he punches her, waits until his memory lapses, then spins a new story that sics him on Dodd.

Even the way scenes are presented have a mirroring effect. Most major sequences in the main plot are shown back-to-back, with one scene that presents a story question or some kind of information, then the next showing the basis or cause of such effects (and it's often a cause we can't predict, thus changing our perception of the story as it unfolds). When we first see Natalie, it's in two parts. When Leonard is in her house, it's also in two parts. When he meets her in the bar, that's two parts. The sequence with Leonard and the prostitute is split in two parts. And so on.

One Bare Spot

Look ma, no heart.

At a few points in the film, attention is drawn to one part of Leonard's body that's devoid of tattoos. It's his left breast, where his heart would be. First, when Natalie sees his tattoos in front of a mirror, she makes it a point to stroke that area. Later on, when Teddy shows off the year-old photo of Leonard actually achieving his revenge, it's a picture of Leonard pointing to that same spot on his chest, and he's smiling.

Towards the end of the film we also see very brief flashes of Leonard and his wife together--she's stroking that spot where his heart is, but now there is a tattoo there (and though it's obscured somewhat, it appears to say "...I've done"). This can't be a flashback, because there is no point in which Leonard and his wife were together when he had tattoos--this can only be taken as an artistic representation of what's going on in his mind and heart. Especially since he has that extra tattoo on his chest that didn't exist before. It seems to suggest a state of mind in which he is done killing and can find peace with his dearly departed spouse. On the other hand, this could also be taken as she's always on his mind, and this image will stick with him even if his vengeance never ends.

The fact that Leonard's bare spot is showcased can also suggest that there's literally nothing on his heart, or that his heart is empty.

Don't Believe His Lies

Leonard is as unreliable of a narrator as they come, and it takes all of the methods listed above to show what the truth actually is and how far displaced his beliefs are from it. What makes Leonard exceptionally slimy, perhaps even villainous, is that he willingly sabotages himself so that his quest for vengeance may never end. And yet, the film still paints him as a tragic figure, showcasing his trauma that fuels his rage and makes it impossible for him to let go. Though the techniques of Memento are impressive on many levels, it's the simple payoff of reaching the core of a character's heart that makes this experience worthwhile and thought-provoking.

Chances are that there are other aspects to the film that I'm neglecting or skimping out on. Every time I see the film, it seems much more nuanced and complicated than I first believed. Of the film's many qualities, these are the other things I admire, which cements this as a personal favorite:

• This film is not exactly a low-budget affair, but it's not overblown or over-the-top either. It amounts to simply a handful of characters in common, unassuming places. And yet, all the cast and crew needed was the script to make this movie as strong as it is.
  
• Just about all of the performances are top-notch. This might be my favorite performance from Guy Pierce. Carrie-Anne Moss and Joe Pantoliano are no slouches either (it's also no coincidence that both also co-starred in The Matrix, Nolan had seen Moss in that movie and cast her based on that performance--Pantoliano came onboard with Moss' recommendation). I also love that Stephen Tobolowsky and Jorja Fox are given small roles, and they're both standouts (and since I was a CSI fan at the time, I was happy to see Fox in a film).
  
• The film's photography doesn't exactly beat you over the head with style, but it still manages to stand out with the way it frames characters, the use of close-ups, and the way light, shadow, and textures are captured. It stands out in an understated way. As a film noir, all of this helps to add atmosphere and symbolism to the story.
• Regardless of how the photography is, it's the editing that makes the film even more punchy. Flashbacks and visual images are spliced into the film in very short, punchy bursts, which will either reinforce what's seen or said on-screen, or reveal new information. At times, it seems to replicate the shattered nature of Leonard's memories or thoughts. But even with mundane scenes, the snappy way scenes begin and end make them continuously interesting.
• Despite the detached nature of Nolan's films, Memento struck me as showing more personality than I remembered. Even though the film does resort to some straightfroward exposition at key points, the actors (especially Pierce and Pantoliano) find ways to relay their dialogue with levity and attitude. It not only matches the cool, hard-boiled nature of the neo-noir genre, it also keeps the film from becoming too stiff or droll. I could probably listen to Leonard narrating his life forever (and it's worth noting that this is one of the very few films where the voice-over actually works).
• David Julyan's music score is pretty nice. He had wanted to capture a sense of yearning and loss for certain parts of the movie, and I feel it's aptly felt in the melancholic way the synths and strings drone and subtly rise.
  

Memento is an interesting, puzzling, gut-wrenching story pieced together with nuanced editing and a polished, detailed script. Even after all these years, its twists and insight on the character remain on my mind, reminding me that a good story is built from a fundamental focus on details, points-of-view, mysteries, and characterization. I am still in awe over how meticulous and well-crafted the whole film is. Thanks to the care put into it, I may always remember Sammy Jankis.

I see he also remembers 10-and-2.

An Appreciation of Following

WARNING: SPOILERS FOLLOW

In another month or so, Tenet will hit theaters. What better time is there to revisit Christopher Nolan's filmography, starting with his first-ever feature film?

What's in the booooooox?

Even though Following came out in 1998, I didn't see it until 2012 when the Blu-Ray was released from the Criterion Collection. Even though it's not nearly as big-scale or epic of a film as the Dark Knight trilogy or Inception, I liked the film just fine for what it was. Its black-and-white photography had a stark and gritty quality that reminded me of Darren Aronofsky's Pi, but the story carried trademarks and a structure that would carry over to many of his future works (most especially Memento and Inception). Considering how limited the budget and production was for Following, it is exceptionally impressive how well-shot, well-acted, and well-written the film actually is--it could stand toe-to-toe with similar neo-noir pictures like 1997's Insomnia, or 1996's Bound. It wouldn't be too out-of-place among the myriad of Hitchcock thrillers either.

Thus, the film has remained in my collection as one of many understated gems. I never really revisited it as much as the other Nolan films, but after a recent rewatch my memory was refreshed and I remembered what it actually was that made me like the guy's work in the first place. I still think the film is good, plain and simple, and well worth a watch for anybody with 70 minutes to spare.

The Fellow Who Follows

A film about a guy who just stalks random people could have been dry and boring on its own. Following manages to keep things moving from frame one. It starts exactly where any good story should--by introducing the character and their motivation. This is actually presented in a very explicit, straightforward manner by having the main character speak to someone who's interviewing him. We may not know at the time who this other person is, but the scene is revisited in the last shot and we find out that this is a police interrogation, and the main character is framed for murder. In the course of these interviews, we find out right away that:

• The main character has this habit of "following" people.
• The character does this because he was lonely.
• The character doesn't discriminate between following men or women, which shows that he has no voyeuristic or perverted intention.
• The reason he gives is that he just wants to see where people go and what they do.

Even though this is very direct dialogue, and maybe a little on-the-nose, it is successful at setting up the story and establishing the character as a loner with this peculiar hobby. The dialogue is still presented with care to the characters' voices. They are also trim and economical.

Who to follow next?

In the next few scenes, the dialogue becomes a voice-over that complements the scenes we see--this same technique is something Nolan would employ in many of his future films, including all the Batman ones. We learn next that the protagonist has certain rules he follows, but the one time he fails to follow them invites trouble into his life. When this happens, the story kicks off.

All of this happens within the first few minutes of the movie. By the time the character's life is turned around, we already know who he is, what he does for a living, and what his obsession is. This is the bare minimum needed before conflict is introduced. What's really admirable is that the film achieves the groundwork of the story (via introducing the character and providing exposition) as close to the story's starting point as possible. This makes the movie very lean, efficient, and it maintains interest right from the start.

Who Follows The Follower?

In short order, we're introduced to a character named Cobb, who outright challenges the protagonist and leads him into a deeper level of obsession. Thus, the main character moves from following people to breaking into houses and upending the place.

Cobb is the villain of the story, but judging him as an "antagonist" is a little tricky. It's not the usual case where an antagonist gets in the way of the protagonist's goals--the main character has no "goal" in this film. What winds up happening is that Cobb gives him a goal, but this sets him on a path of destruction through deception and treachery. Like Satan, Cobb uses temptation and appeals to the character's ego and desires to push him into deeper and more dangerous levels of corruption.

The devilish parallels don't end there though. Also like Satan, Cobb gets a thrill out of messing with people's stuff, with the intention of causing mischief and sowing doubt or conflict in the households he invades. And he justifies this with a certain rebellious bravado, insisting that by taking away something a person will appreciate what he has more (and this could be a little similar to how Tyler Durden's motivations in Fight Club, in which he wanted to shake people out of apathy and materialism and live their lives in a fuller way).

Cobb ultimately finds an ally with the Blonde--the very same woman that the protagonist burgles, but remains unaware that she and Cobb are conspiring against him. These secrets, as well as Blonde's connection to the Bald Guy, become reveals that redirect our understanding of the story. We experience these shifts at the same times the main character does, so when he's surprised, we are too. Even though the film begins and ends with the character in police custody, we really can't see where this story is going--there's nothing in the opening to suggest the main character is actually in trouble, but by the end we watch as he is framed for murder. And it all happens because of Cobb's cold scheming.

Everyone Has A Box

The main character initially follows people out of curiosity. It shows a human interest in other people--he simply wants to know what makes them tick, and possible connect to others on a more personal level. He maintains rigid distance because it's respectful and lawful. Cobb, however, invades people's lives forcibly. He even squats in people's houses when he knows they'll be gone for a long period of time. It's not only unlawful, but also a violation of privacy, and perhaps violation in other forms (such as psychological).

Oh look, he found the Joker's card.

It's probably best understood with the concept of boxes--when the characters engage in their burglary, Cobb makes the comment that "everyone has a box," where people supposedly hide their most intimate secrets and belongings. On one level, this becomes a major plot point, since the main character takes on the mission to steal the Bald Guy's "box" to take back Blonde's incriminating photos. On the other hand, the use of boxes is also a stand-in for the very thing the character wants--intimate knowledge and connection with other people.

What's really creepy then is that Cobb succeeds by having a box faked, which in turn tricks the protagonist into falling for an identity that doesn't really exist. In turn, this alters the protagonists' reality, until the truth becomes known. You can even see Cobb arranging the box in the film's opening titles--we just don't comprehend this at first because, out of context, it's just hands putting stuff in a box. Once you know how this plays out, you realize you're actually watching Cobb arrange his devious plan, and it creates a kind of foreshadowing. Thus, the brief montage holds up even on repeat viewings.

The box is more than a McGuffin here--it's also a thing that curses the main character (it just occurred to me that there could be a parallel to the myth of Pandora's Box with this). More importantly, it's a symbol that embodies what the film is about thematically--the search and intrusion of other people's secrets.

Stop--Hammer Time

Boxes aren't the only thing that plays a role in the story. The main character is ultimately implicated in Blonde's murder via a hammer--the protagonist used it to kill the Bald Guy, but Cobb uses it to kill Blonde. Inevitably, with the main character's fingerprints still on the handle, the police wind up pinning her death on him.

All of this didn't need much of a set-up. About halfway through the film, we see the hammer introduced when gangsters use it "take care" of someone. Aside from introducing threat and characterizing the Bald Guy as a cold-blooded villain, the scene serves to associate the hammer as a tool for murder. When it changes hands across other scenes, including the flashback showing Cobb murdering the Blonde, we can see the weapon's path across the story and understand visually how the main character became the prime suspect. Through all this, we also see how Cobb's devious schemes play out.

If the hammer was never introduced the way it was, it wouldn't have as much weight as it does in the story. It might even seem like just a convenient thing the characters find and use. But when it's established that organized criminals do bludgeon others regularly with hammers, it seems as though that same threat and violence transfers to Cobb and the main character when they wind up using it. It's all a connection, almost like the opposite of Chekhov's Gun.

Birth Of An Idea

Chances are by now that you may see many similarities between Following and another Nolan film made on a much bigger budget--2010's Inception. Not only is the name Cobb repurposed, but the idea of boxes is harped on again. In Inception, the formula winds up being flipped so that it's not about thieves stealing other people's intimate secrets--they put things into said boxes to change a person from the inside. In one twist, a box is even used to trick the character into losing track of his own life. I have a feeling Inception brewed in Nolan's head for a while, ultimately recycling the "box" motif, the names, and the core psychological ideas into a more ambitious spectacle.

On its own though, Following holds up just fine as a short, competent neo-noir. There are many things to admire about it, including these aspects:

• This film hardly had a budget. It was pieced together with very candid photography, often capturing the crowds of English streets without anybody being aware they were being filmed. For a film that focuses on just a handful of characters, a few simple props, and real locations, the film makes the most of what it has thanks to its script, rehearsals to reduce the number of takes needed, and concise editing.
• Like many Nolan pictures, the timeline of the story is chopped up to some degree. It's not nearly as convoluted as his other movies, but notably, the final scene is split and shown at the beginning and end, and some events that happened earlier are shown as fleeting flashbacks to visually reinforce a given reveal or twist.
• What's a film noir without a femme fatale? Lucy Russell plays the Blonde in a way that makes her feel like a grounded, real character, and less like a stereotype. And yet, the way she colludes with Cobb and her tragic death still fits the archetype.
• Nolan's films present themselves in a rather stiff and formal way--it's some combination of the films' visual styles, cutting, acting, dialogue, and music. Following notably feels dry and has pretty stiff dialogue, but it's not entirely without personality. The naturalistic performances from all the leads make them creditable as characters, and it helps them stand out even when the dialogue becomes flat exposition. But it helps that the characters do manage to talk about their ideals, desires, and feelings in a frank way--even though it might seem on-the-nose, it's a fast way for the film to layer its story so that the characters and their actions make sense.
• This isn't so much a movie to watch for voice, levity, or catharsis--it's best taken as something to think and ponder over.
• The music score is decent.
• Main character is a writer. Yay!

If there's anything to admonish about the film, it's just that it's rough around the edges and maybe a little slow and quiet. It has more strengths than weaknesses though--I've always been intrigued by the story and its presentation, but on a rewatch I am genuinely impressed by the script and the way the story flows. Although Nolan's future films will embody more complex stories, stronger characters, stronger emotions, and a lot more action, Following still showcases his trademarks and it remains quite a chilling tale.

A writer in his natural habitat.

An Appreciation of Christopher Nolan

Few filmmakers produce a consistently good filmography, much less one that bears distinctive artistic voice, style, and trademarks. I know many film-goers won't agree, but I believe Christopher Nolan has achieved an admirable consistency--of the ten (soon to be eleven) feature-length films under his belt, I liked them all. Not only are they entertaining, but most of them have puzzling narrative structures that keeps you guessing and thinking until a whopper of a revelation happens. And he manages to achieve this while telling fascinating stories full of fascinating characters, and some of them bear an iconography that's become meme-worthy at the least.

That is not to say his work is perfect. I've seen my fair share of heated debates concerning plot holes, sloppy editing, and stupid artistic decisions. Some would say his films are overrated--given the sheer hype they produce, fans do tend to hold the man and his works on a pedestal that undoubtedly irritates his haters. Though I try to abstain from holding Nolan's works above reproach, I do admire all of them anyway, and I'd even say that their imperfections are part of their charm.

Christopher Nolan is a native of London who started dabbling with film-making as early as seven years old. Though he proceeded to make short films throughout his early years, he opted not to attend a traditional film school, and instead received his degree in English literature. Together with Emma Thomson (now his wife), he went on to work in a variety of film-related jobs and make more short films. 1998's Following was his first feature-length picture, which was impressively crafted on a minuscule budget. However, his real breakthrough occurred with 2001's Memento.

Around 2002, I had caught wind of Memento's existence and always heard it was a good, must-see thriller. I didn't see it until some years later (2005 maybe?) from a distinctively-packaged two-disc DVD set. This was the time in which I explored a lot of classics and well-regarded modern films, and watching Memento in such close proximity to David Fincher's Se7en and Fight Club all for the first time is quite a memorable experience. It was films like these that opened up my appreciation of the neo-noir genre, but Memento was the first film that genuinely knocked my socks off with merely its plot structure.

As the years went on, the hits just kept coming. I didn't catch onto 2002's Insomnia until much later, but Batman Begins was one of the best surprises of 2005 and it quickly became one of my favorite Batman films. I found myself rewatching and admiring The Prestige throughout 2006 and 2007, thoroughly hooked to its twisty plot, characters, and style.

Naturally, by 2008 I was onboard with anything this guy would make, and I was looking forward to his next big picture. Nothing actually prepared me for The Dark Knight though--one memorable evening, I saw this on an advanced screening in Leeds with my dad, and I left feeling awed. So many scenes in the movie left a mark, to the point where I regard it as a modern classic and still hold it in high regard. For a time, this was my fourth-favorite movie of all time, and I felt as though Batman and Nolan could do no wrong (especially together).

In 2010, Nolan delivered a wonderfully surprising spectacle with Inception, the one movie of his that feels the most like a big-scale passion project brought to life. Though I skipped it in theaters for some reason, I blind-bought the Blu-Ray and I watched it the day it arrived--it didn't disappoint me. In fact, my appreciation for it only goes up as the years pass, and I consider it an essential among modern sci-fi.

With the success of all the Batman movies, I went into The Dark Knight Rises believing it could do no wrong and was a perfect endcap to the trilogy. In time, I'd realize that calling it "perfect" was a stretch--this is probably his worst film for many reasons, but I still value and enjoy it for its more iconic moments. A couple of years later, Interstellar hit the big screen with seemingly less fanfare, but I was thoroughly impressed by it (I might never forget how, when the credits rolled, the guy next to me said "holy moly!"). In 2017, Dunkirk was released and I appreciated the experience it represented.

Here it is, 2020, and in another month (hopefully) Tenet will release, promising a trippy new spin on the spy movie genre. I have a feeling I'll love it.

Anatomy of a Nolan Picture

Chances are good you'll know a Nolan film when you see it. Most of them are filmed in very drab, steely colors (it just so happens that Nolan is color blind). Most of his films use handheld cameras and very fast editing--you'd think this would look garish, but the effect is actually more eye-popping with the way he ends some scenes very suddenly. Many of his action scenes are shown with pretty ugly camera shake, but over the years I think he ditched that effect in favor of capturing big-scale action with steadier quality (with IMAX cameras nonetheless). Most of his films focus on certain archetypes--usually involving thieves, spies, crooks, businessmen, cops. Ladies in his films are either dangerous femme fatales, tragic lost loves, tough heroines, or some combination of all three. His earliest movies boasted some pretty classy music, but since Batman Begins he's relied more on Hans Zimmer, which gives his films a more synthetic, droning industrial quality (and yet I still think it's fitting).

What really draws me into his films are the stories and their plot structures. Just about all of his films revolve around a secret, and in the course of the film layers are peeled away through revelations and exposition that help piece a larger puzzle together. By the end, you're usually given a revelatory scene or detail that puts the rest of the movie in context, which will either change your perception of what you've just seen, or explain what makes a certain character tick. Heck, Memento does both. The big twists are not always that big or awe-inspiring, but they don't need to be. The first two Batman films don't even have twists per se, they maintain intrigue purely through conventional plotting (although The Dark Knight is a pretty winding cat-and-mouse chase). The Dark Knight Rises, however, pulled an interesting sleight-of-hand regarding the backstory behind Bane and Talia.

Over time, Nolan's focus seemed to sway from steely, intellectual twists towards catharsis and emotion. Though I find parts of Inception and the Dark Knight trilogy chilling, it doesn't quite compare to the raw tears we see shed in Interstellar, or the uplifting monologue that caps Dunkirk. Whether he makes movies with feeling or thought, I'm confident his future works will be interesting to behold.

Other Things To Admire

• Christopher Nolan always wears a suit. Always. In most photos and interviews I see him in, he always looks slick and sounds professional.
• His brother Jonathan Nolan seems to be quite the capable writer. I figure he likely contributed to the successful complexity of movies like Memento and The Dark Knight. The two together seem to be a perfect match.
• That being said, Christopher has writing credit in all his movies, plus Man of Steel and something called Ghajini. He was the sole writer for Inception. I think it's a good yardstick against his writing chops--it likely shows a greater penchant for exposition and spectacle, like most other blockbusters, but it's a film to admire for its structure and ideas more than voice and characterization.

Al's Rankings

• 10: The Dark Knight Rises (2012) 7/10
• 9: Insomnia (2002) 7/10
• 8: Following (1998) 8/10
• 7: Dunkirk (2017) 8/10
• 6: Inception (2010) 9/10
• 5: Batman Begins (2005) 9/10
• 4: Interstellar (2014) 9/10 
• 3: The Prestige (2006) 9/10
• 2: The Dark Knight (2008) 10/10
• 1: Memento (2000) 10/10

Nolan's Short Films