I don't normally discuss politics on this blog. This is a pop culture blog and not a political blog, but it seems that some people are dead set on getting their politics mixed into my pop culture.
Apparently an upcoming duet featuring Katy Perry and Elmo is "too sexy" for some parents. You can watch the "offending" video below.
Personally, I don't see anything too risque for children's television. Sure, Katy has a pseudo-Betty Page thing going on, but Betty Page had a Betty Boop thing going on who had a Clara Bow thing going on who had a...
Sometimes I wonder at our modern desire to protect children from sex -- and from violence for that matter.
That said, there is one thing that I want to say about the issue.
When I was growing up The Muppet Show was the "feature celebrities singing new singles" show, and Sesame Street was the show with an underlying pedagogy that taught children numbers and colors etc. There isn't a Muppet Show anymore, but doesn't this Katy Perry number strike anyone as blatantly commercial in a way that "Public Television" stands in contrast to?
I find it ironic that the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse show that I have my twin daughters watch -- which is based on a commercial IP -- has better pedagogy and seems less concerned with overt commercialism than Sesame Street.
I'm not opposed to children's programming having a merchandising aspect. Many of my fondest memories are of my own youthful playtime with toys and games based on children's programs (and vice versa). That's not my point.
My point is the irony that the tax payer subsidized, and pledge supported, programming of a public television show is more commercial oriented -- and is promoting pop-singles -- in a way that a commercial television show isn't. The Mickey Mouse Clubhouse show is played without commercials, doesn't feature modern pop stars (though its theme song was written by They Might Be Giants), and has a better underlying pedagogy than the leading children's television program.
Now if someone can explain to me why my DVDs of older episodes of Sesame Street are labeled with a Parental Warning.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Dragon Age Pen and Paper RPG Set 2 in Open Beta
Green Ronin is following in the footsteps of Paizo Publishing and releasing the second boxed set in their Dragon Age pen and paper RPG in an open playtest. You can download the document here.
I am quite fond of the Dragon Age game (as I made clear in an earlier post) and am looking forward to playtesting the rules for higher level characters.
Kudos to Chris Pramas and crew.
I'll let you all know what I think of Set 2 shortly.
The CW's Nikita is Stylish, Sexy, and Soulless
When considering how to approach the CW's new action television series Nikita, I reminded myself of a couple of my core rules to follow when reviewing works of entertainment. In this case, I wanted to make sure that I followed rules #2 and #7. I find that having certain principles of review ensures that a review is as fair as possible to those who made the effort to produce an entertaining product. Making an entertainment product requires a lot of work, and those working on the products do so because they want to entertain the public.
So what are rules #2 and #7 and what are some examples of them in application?
An intellectual property that perfectly exemplifies the importance of rule #2 is Frank Herbert's Dune series of books. If one were to compare David Lynch's version of Dune to the novel one would find numerous differences and omissions, but that would be a disservice to Lynch's brilliance in the film. Lynch's Dune isn't a translation of the novel adapted to the big screen. Instead, it is a story inspired by the book that attempts to tell a similar story through a different medium. It approaches the central conflicts of Herbert's SF masterpiece and builds a film narrative structure around it. It also uses the strengths of the different medium to add new levels of spectacle to the property. One should judge Lynch's work apart from Herbert's because it departs widely from the original property.
The several Syfy series based on Dune, which claim to be "faithful" adaptations, should be scrutinized heavily due to their claims of fidelity. In fact, the failure to live up to the claims of fidelity -- followed by the invention of lame filler narrative -- is one of the chief flaws of the Syfy versions of Dune. The others are low production values and poorly choreographed melee combat (inexcusable in the post HK New Wave era).
Pilot episodes are often clumsy and the actors frequently have yet to build the chemistry that will make a series worth watching week after week. If one were to look only at Star Trek's original pilot, one would wonder how the show ever got picked up by a network in the first place. The concept is solid, but the execution is awkward -- something I often call "pilotitis." Additionally, the first episode shown may not even be the first episode "narratively." When Fox released Firefly, they showed a middle episode as the pilot and viewers where left without any context for the "universe" they were experiencing. As any Browncoat can tell you, this was a shame because viewers missed out on what ended up being a great ride.
I waited to review CW's Nikita for these very reasons. First, I had to judge just how closely they were associating the property with the original Luc Besson film, then I wanted to see if the show's quality improved or declined in the second (and eventually subsequent) episode.
From the advertising posters to the opening scene of the pilot episode, it is clear that Craig Silverstein and crew are making deep associations with the original film. Both posters show Nikita in a similar pose, and both properties begin with the robbery of a drug store for pharmaceuticals. This association continues in the second episode when Nikita's protege Alex is given "two weeks to improve" before the Division decides to "eliminate" her, the identical raising of stakes Nikita faced in the film.
It should be noted that the new Nikita isn't attempting to be a remake by any means, rather it is striving to be a sequel. It is a "what happened next" story that is using the original as a jumping board. This would typically make it a heavy candidate for rule #2 suspension of disbelief, except for the numerous overt parallels between this series and the original. Since it isn't a direct remake the show doesn't deserve "strict scrutiny," but it does deserve "close scrutiny" because it keeps reminding me of its relation to the original property.
So how is CW's Nikita in light of this level of comparison, and how is it in its own right?
Maggie Q is sexy and powerful in her portrayal of an expert assassin who seeks revenge against the organization that did her wrong, but she's too sexy and too competent. Anne Parillaud was vulnerable and sympathetic. She was a fish out of water, who we cared for in spite of the terrible things she does in the first scene of the film. It's easy to like Maggie Q, but it isn't easy to empathize with her. She's too glossy, too strong, too competent -- except when she inexplicably isn't.
The closest parallel to Parillaud's Nikita is Lyndsy Fonseca's Alex character. Fonseca's performance often demonstrates the vulnerability and humanity of the Parillaud version, but these moments are undermined when the show's "twist" is revealed. Alex suddenly becomes less vulnerable and become an instrument of revenge -- losing some of her humanity in the process.
Allow me to elaborate.
Besson's Nikita opens with an amazing image. Four drug addled youths are walking brazenly through the late night streets of Paris. One of these addicts is carrying an axe and dragging a body behind him. It's a disturbing image that plays off of the classic heroic introduction in The Right Stuff with an ironic twist. These young people are attempting to break into a drug store to get a fix, and as it turns out the drug store is owned and operated by the father of one of the youths. There is a touching scene where a father recognizes his child, and is saddened and horrified by what he sees. The tension and sorrow are palpable. Eventually, it almost seems as if everything is going to turn out okay and deescalate when the police arrive and the scene explodes in gun fire. The first two casualties are the father and son, then all of the youth save Nikita who had been curled up under a desk suffering from withdrawal symptoms. A policeman sees this young woman, attempts to gently help her out of the store and is coldly murdered by her. Her addiction has eliminated her humanity. The rest of the film is about -- among other things -- her rediscovering her humanity.
It is a sad story that constantly keeps the audience worried about the protagonist. We forgive her murders because we see her desperation and vulnerability. Besson makes us care about the killer from the first two minutes.
One of the perfect demonstrations of this vulnerability is expressed in the movie poster.
While Nikita is dressed in a sexually appealing outfit, high heels and all, what immediately registers with the viewer is fear and vulnerability. She is in a near fetal position. She is gripping the gun with two hands, and her eyes gaze worriedly off camera at some unseen threat. The viewer is interested in the character because the viewer is worried about her safety and we wonder what it is that she is looking off camera for. Who or what is just off the screen?
In contrast, the new Nikita opens in media res with a robbery of a drug store taking place in mid-action. The robbers are both wearing masks -- one bunny and one pig -- dehumanizing the criminals from moment one. Our first view of Alex, and we later discover Nikita, is as inhuman mask wearing figures. This sharply lessens our ability to empathize with them as vulnerable characters. The bunny mask is captured after the pig mask murders someone on site. The "innocent" bunny is unmasked and we first see the face of Alex, who will be our Alice in the rabbit hole that is Division. Where Besson knew that he could get us to sympathize with a murderer Silverstein makes sure that the new recruit is seen to be "in the wrong place at the wrong time" and doesn't trust the audience can be empathetic. We meet Alex, the "next" Nikita in this scene.
Then we are introduced to Nikita herself, the stylish and sexy Maggie Q. Through voice over and flashback we are given her back story and informed that she intends to get revenge against Division for them killing the man she loved. This is all presented pro forma, its just enough to set up the situation but lacks any emotional weight.
As the story unfolds we are introduced to Michael (Shane West), the "Bob" (Tchéky Karyo), of the series. West's performance isn't as subtle as Karyo's, but it is strong and gets better as the show progresses and his character is given more dramatic conflicts to resolve. Michael and Alex, along with Amanda (Melinda Clarke), are very compelling components in the show. They have a "realism" that is lacking in the almost superhuman confidence of the Maggie Q Nikita. Though the Michael/Alex relationship once more highlights the lack of heart in the television series.
In a scene that parallel's the movie, Michael informs Alex that she has two weeks to improve in training or she will be eliminated. This scene comes after Michael has saved Alex's life -- nominally -- and Michael notifies Alex just as she is about to thank him. It is a scene that works well as Michael is simultaneously asserting that he will not allow himself to become personally involved with a trainee (again), but that he does feel vulnerable in Alex's presence. The scene is good, but is shallow when contrasted to a similar scene in Besson's film.
In the film, Nikita has been acting out upon being forbidden from leaving the training facility. She has frightened the techie, bitten the ear off the judo instructor, danced in celebration of biting off the ear, and painted graffiti all over her room. "Bob" has been notified that she has two weeks to improve or Division will kill her. He enters her room with a birthday cake and a gift -- a poster of Degas' The Star.
He cuts her a piece of cake -- with a switchblade -- and tells her that she is only excelling in painting and dance. He is referring to the graffiti and the dance of humiliation she did earlier, which are demonstrations of her individuality and humanity that he appreciates. The Degas painting's portrayal of dance and the individual amplifies this association. He gives her a brief moment of celebration and kindness, and then drops the bomb that she has only two weeks to live if she doesn't improve. It is a powerful scene. It has a weight entirely lacking in television show.
Throughout the first two episodes Nikita attempts to undermine the actions of Division, but she soon discovers that not all who oppose Division are her allies. Maggie Q's Nikita is continually shown as powerful, competent, and sexy -- with one moment of almost farcical incompetence in the second episode in a "sniper" scene. Since the show is using Alex as the proxy "film Nikita," Maggie Q's Nikita is almost the direct opposite of Parillaud's. A quick cheat for what I am referring to is the marketing poster for the new series. Look at how it parallels and differs from the original film poster.
Here Nikita is holding two guns, one in each hand, and has a spare sub-machine gun at her feet. She is lounging sensually in a chair holding her pistol with one hand and looking at the viewer with confidence and authority. The background is sharp and red, as opposed to foggy and blue. This is the image of a ruthless and attractive killer and not a vulnerable and sympathetic fish out of water. If it weren't for the way that the poster, and show, reference the original as they simultaneously reject it, I wouldn't make note of it. But the fact is that they are constantly referencing the original, and not in an "easter egg" manner.
I have thought long and hard about why the show would both reference the original and then advertise its rejection of the template and the only reason I can come up with is Dollhouse. This version of Nikita is as much a response to Dollhouse as it is to Besson's Nikita. The new show's glossy style and sensuality is reminiscent of Dollhouse, while the story structure is reminiscent of Nikita.
It's almost as if this Nikita is saying, "this is what Dollhouse could have been."
As critical as I am of the lack of emotional weight of Nikita so far, I have to say that I am impressed with their twist. I am impressed enough to watch the show for a few more episodes to see where they go.
At the end of the pilot, we discover that Nikita was the pig in the opening scene and that Alex is being used as her "mole" inside Division to help her destroy it from the inside. It is a nice twist and one that I wasn't expecting.
The show has some interesting moments, but it's going to have to acquire some "heart" if it wants to retain me as a viewer. It can either do this by giving me empathetically dramatic stakes, or by adding humor. I don't care which one they do, but they have to make the show stand apart from its origins.
So what are rules #2 and #7 and what are some examples of them in application?
Rule #2 -- When reviewing a property that has been translated from one medium to another, it is only fair to compare the property to the source material as far as the property relates itself to the original.
An intellectual property that perfectly exemplifies the importance of rule #2 is Frank Herbert's Dune series of books. If one were to compare David Lynch's version of Dune to the novel one would find numerous differences and omissions, but that would be a disservice to Lynch's brilliance in the film. Lynch's Dune isn't a translation of the novel adapted to the big screen. Instead, it is a story inspired by the book that attempts to tell a similar story through a different medium. It approaches the central conflicts of Herbert's SF masterpiece and builds a film narrative structure around it. It also uses the strengths of the different medium to add new levels of spectacle to the property. One should judge Lynch's work apart from Herbert's because it departs widely from the original property.
The several Syfy series based on Dune, which claim to be "faithful" adaptations, should be scrutinized heavily due to their claims of fidelity. In fact, the failure to live up to the claims of fidelity -- followed by the invention of lame filler narrative -- is one of the chief flaws of the Syfy versions of Dune. The others are low production values and poorly choreographed melee combat (inexcusable in the post HK New Wave era).
Rule #7 -- Never judge a new television show purely upon its pilot episode.
Pilot episodes are often clumsy and the actors frequently have yet to build the chemistry that will make a series worth watching week after week. If one were to look only at Star Trek's original pilot, one would wonder how the show ever got picked up by a network in the first place. The concept is solid, but the execution is awkward -- something I often call "pilotitis." Additionally, the first episode shown may not even be the first episode "narratively." When Fox released Firefly, they showed a middle episode as the pilot and viewers where left without any context for the "universe" they were experiencing. As any Browncoat can tell you, this was a shame because viewers missed out on what ended up being a great ride.
I waited to review CW's Nikita for these very reasons. First, I had to judge just how closely they were associating the property with the original Luc Besson film, then I wanted to see if the show's quality improved or declined in the second (and eventually subsequent) episode.
From the advertising posters to the opening scene of the pilot episode, it is clear that Craig Silverstein and crew are making deep associations with the original film. Both posters show Nikita in a similar pose, and both properties begin with the robbery of a drug store for pharmaceuticals. This association continues in the second episode when Nikita's protege Alex is given "two weeks to improve" before the Division decides to "eliminate" her, the identical raising of stakes Nikita faced in the film.
It should be noted that the new Nikita isn't attempting to be a remake by any means, rather it is striving to be a sequel. It is a "what happened next" story that is using the original as a jumping board. This would typically make it a heavy candidate for rule #2 suspension of disbelief, except for the numerous overt parallels between this series and the original. Since it isn't a direct remake the show doesn't deserve "strict scrutiny," but it does deserve "close scrutiny" because it keeps reminding me of its relation to the original property.
So how is CW's Nikita in light of this level of comparison, and how is it in its own right?
Maggie Q is sexy and powerful in her portrayal of an expert assassin who seeks revenge against the organization that did her wrong, but she's too sexy and too competent. Anne Parillaud was vulnerable and sympathetic. She was a fish out of water, who we cared for in spite of the terrible things she does in the first scene of the film. It's easy to like Maggie Q, but it isn't easy to empathize with her. She's too glossy, too strong, too competent -- except when she inexplicably isn't.
The closest parallel to Parillaud's Nikita is Lyndsy Fonseca's Alex character. Fonseca's performance often demonstrates the vulnerability and humanity of the Parillaud version, but these moments are undermined when the show's "twist" is revealed. Alex suddenly becomes less vulnerable and become an instrument of revenge -- losing some of her humanity in the process.
Allow me to elaborate.
Besson's Nikita opens with an amazing image. Four drug addled youths are walking brazenly through the late night streets of Paris. One of these addicts is carrying an axe and dragging a body behind him. It's a disturbing image that plays off of the classic heroic introduction in The Right Stuff with an ironic twist. These young people are attempting to break into a drug store to get a fix, and as it turns out the drug store is owned and operated by the father of one of the youths. There is a touching scene where a father recognizes his child, and is saddened and horrified by what he sees. The tension and sorrow are palpable. Eventually, it almost seems as if everything is going to turn out okay and deescalate when the police arrive and the scene explodes in gun fire. The first two casualties are the father and son, then all of the youth save Nikita who had been curled up under a desk suffering from withdrawal symptoms. A policeman sees this young woman, attempts to gently help her out of the store and is coldly murdered by her. Her addiction has eliminated her humanity. The rest of the film is about -- among other things -- her rediscovering her humanity.
It is a sad story that constantly keeps the audience worried about the protagonist. We forgive her murders because we see her desperation and vulnerability. Besson makes us care about the killer from the first two minutes.
One of the perfect demonstrations of this vulnerability is expressed in the movie poster.
While Nikita is dressed in a sexually appealing outfit, high heels and all, what immediately registers with the viewer is fear and vulnerability. She is in a near fetal position. She is gripping the gun with two hands, and her eyes gaze worriedly off camera at some unseen threat. The viewer is interested in the character because the viewer is worried about her safety and we wonder what it is that she is looking off camera for. Who or what is just off the screen?
In contrast, the new Nikita opens in media res with a robbery of a drug store taking place in mid-action. The robbers are both wearing masks -- one bunny and one pig -- dehumanizing the criminals from moment one. Our first view of Alex, and we later discover Nikita, is as inhuman mask wearing figures. This sharply lessens our ability to empathize with them as vulnerable characters. The bunny mask is captured after the pig mask murders someone on site. The "innocent" bunny is unmasked and we first see the face of Alex, who will be our Alice in the rabbit hole that is Division. Where Besson knew that he could get us to sympathize with a murderer Silverstein makes sure that the new recruit is seen to be "in the wrong place at the wrong time" and doesn't trust the audience can be empathetic. We meet Alex, the "next" Nikita in this scene.
Then we are introduced to Nikita herself, the stylish and sexy Maggie Q. Through voice over and flashback we are given her back story and informed that she intends to get revenge against Division for them killing the man she loved. This is all presented pro forma, its just enough to set up the situation but lacks any emotional weight.
As the story unfolds we are introduced to Michael (Shane West), the "Bob" (Tchéky Karyo), of the series. West's performance isn't as subtle as Karyo's, but it is strong and gets better as the show progresses and his character is given more dramatic conflicts to resolve. Michael and Alex, along with Amanda (Melinda Clarke), are very compelling components in the show. They have a "realism" that is lacking in the almost superhuman confidence of the Maggie Q Nikita. Though the Michael/Alex relationship once more highlights the lack of heart in the television series.
In a scene that parallel's the movie, Michael informs Alex that she has two weeks to improve in training or she will be eliminated. This scene comes after Michael has saved Alex's life -- nominally -- and Michael notifies Alex just as she is about to thank him. It is a scene that works well as Michael is simultaneously asserting that he will not allow himself to become personally involved with a trainee (again), but that he does feel vulnerable in Alex's presence. The scene is good, but is shallow when contrasted to a similar scene in Besson's film.
In the film, Nikita has been acting out upon being forbidden from leaving the training facility. She has frightened the techie, bitten the ear off the judo instructor, danced in celebration of biting off the ear, and painted graffiti all over her room. "Bob" has been notified that she has two weeks to improve or Division will kill her. He enters her room with a birthday cake and a gift -- a poster of Degas' The Star.
He cuts her a piece of cake -- with a switchblade -- and tells her that she is only excelling in painting and dance. He is referring to the graffiti and the dance of humiliation she did earlier, which are demonstrations of her individuality and humanity that he appreciates. The Degas painting's portrayal of dance and the individual amplifies this association. He gives her a brief moment of celebration and kindness, and then drops the bomb that she has only two weeks to live if she doesn't improve. It is a powerful scene. It has a weight entirely lacking in television show.
Throughout the first two episodes Nikita attempts to undermine the actions of Division, but she soon discovers that not all who oppose Division are her allies. Maggie Q's Nikita is continually shown as powerful, competent, and sexy -- with one moment of almost farcical incompetence in the second episode in a "sniper" scene. Since the show is using Alex as the proxy "film Nikita," Maggie Q's Nikita is almost the direct opposite of Parillaud's. A quick cheat for what I am referring to is the marketing poster for the new series. Look at how it parallels and differs from the original film poster.
Here Nikita is holding two guns, one in each hand, and has a spare sub-machine gun at her feet. She is lounging sensually in a chair holding her pistol with one hand and looking at the viewer with confidence and authority. The background is sharp and red, as opposed to foggy and blue. This is the image of a ruthless and attractive killer and not a vulnerable and sympathetic fish out of water. If it weren't for the way that the poster, and show, reference the original as they simultaneously reject it, I wouldn't make note of it. But the fact is that they are constantly referencing the original, and not in an "easter egg" manner.
I have thought long and hard about why the show would both reference the original and then advertise its rejection of the template and the only reason I can come up with is Dollhouse. This version of Nikita is as much a response to Dollhouse as it is to Besson's Nikita. The new show's glossy style and sensuality is reminiscent of Dollhouse, while the story structure is reminiscent of Nikita.
It's almost as if this Nikita is saying, "this is what Dollhouse could have been."
As critical as I am of the lack of emotional weight of Nikita so far, I have to say that I am impressed with their twist. I am impressed enough to watch the show for a few more episodes to see where they go.
At the end of the pilot, we discover that Nikita was the pig in the opening scene and that Alex is being used as her "mole" inside Division to help her destroy it from the inside. It is a nice twist and one that I wasn't expecting.
The show has some interesting moments, but it's going to have to acquire some "heart" if it wants to retain me as a viewer. It can either do this by giving me empathetically dramatic stakes, or by adding humor. I don't care which one they do, but they have to make the show stand apart from its origins.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Jared Sorensen's Inspectres Worth a Look
I walked around the store and examined their inventory, looking to see if they had any games on hand that I didn't own that might interest me. Their friendly staff directed me to a bookcase in their role playing section and listed off a couple of titles. I bought copies of The Burning Wheel, Dogs in the Vineyard, and Inspectres.
I was impressed with all three products. The role playing market was in the middle of the d20 SRD Era, and seeing games that had unique rules mechanics was a fresh change. Also fresh was the focus all of these games place on narrative and player empowerment. This was especially true of Jared Sorensen's Inspectres.
Theme
The premise of Inspectres is a simple one. There are mysterious and supernatural things in the world that can pester humanity from time to time. In response to these supernatural pests -- likely due to a large influx of Silicon Valley venture capital -- the Inspectres fully-licensed and insured "Supernatural Investigation & Elimination Service" was formed. The Inspectres are "Fighting the Forces of Darkness, do you don't have to."
Player's in an Inspectres campaign play working class -- and some white collar as well -- heroes who fight the supernatural as their day job. For them, banishing the hordes of Servitors of Garoneesh from Delta Sigma house's basement, is akin to your average bug exterminator completing a termite treatment. While they may be battling threats beyond imagination, and others might find that exciting, it is just their day job. These people have lives outside of their local franchise. Fighting the supernatural is "normal," "routine," and even hum-drum.
This is all key to the setting, because Sorensen believes that goofy isn't funny. He believes that the mundane is funny, and he's right. When a group of players/people try to be funny, they often end up being goofy. When they take something bizarre and attempt to make it normal and dull, the opportunity for real humor begins. Humor is rooted in irony, and having monster hunting be a dull cubicle based Office Space inspired hell is funny.
Mechanics
The underlying mechanics of Inspectres are deceptively simple, and are remarkable at reinforcing the intended style of play.
Inspectres determines the outcome of player's actions through the use of a mechanic I call the Sorensen Narrative Resolution System or SNRS -- and its a system he has used a couple of times before in different guises.
As in other role playing game mechanics, the SNRS gives players ratings in certain areas -- Academics, Athletics, Technology, and Contact (there is also a Cool stat, but most players don't start out Cool). In addition to these individual ratings, the players will have access to their Inspectres Franchise's resources which are called the Library Card, Gym Card, Credit Card, and Bank. All players have access to the franchise's resources, which explains why even untrained incompetents can be successful if they work at a well equipped franchise.
These ratings allow players to roll a certain number of dice, which are then used to interpret the outcome of an action. In a standard role playing game, there would be a target number and beating that target number would mean success and failing to beat the target number would mean that the action didn't succeed. This is where the SNRS differs from other games. In Inspectres, the outcome of the die roll determines who has narrative control over the action. What this means is that the action is described after the die roll, and that the results of the die roll determine whether the player or the game master has control (and how much control they have) of the outcome. Depending on the story being told, a player could gain control of an outcome and narrate failure or the GM could narrate success. It all depends on what the individual believes will create a better story. When the player/GM has only partial control of an action, things get pretty interesting.
The SNRS's narrative approach to roleplaying action resolution is great to see in action. It does require a commitment to attempt to be narratively creative from all of the participants, but if everyone commits it is a great time. There are some additional twists and turns to the system, but you'll have to buy the book to read them.
It really is worth the price of admission of $20 for the small booklet. The game has a fun setting and a simple mechanic that can satisfy hard core role players and serves as a wonderful introduction to the hobby for new players.
Movie
I wanted to note that Sorensen has recently teamed up with the good folks at Reactor 88 studios and is working on a feature length production based on the Inspectres setting. I saw the first 10 minutes at Gen Con this year, and I think that the film looks like a fun production from a DIY studio. We'll see what the end result is, but I think that it will hold up quite well against its chief competition in the "Gaming Movie" genre -- The Gamers.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Red Box Ninjas -- The Return of the Wizards of the Coast Promotional Cartoon
Of the marketing tools Wizards of the Coast used early in the 4e advertising process, my favorites were their short and humorous cartoons. The Tiefling and Gnome cartoon is still on my list of "pick me ups" when I need a good giggle because my day is a bit glum.
"I'm a monster...Rawr!"
On a side note, the Tiefling appears to be from the Bay Area. (Who else says Hella?)
I don't know that the most recent entry, Red Box Ninjas, is as universally funny -- but it does have a certain resonance with me as a Dungeon Master. We've all had groups like the one depicted in this cartoon.
I couldn't resist putting in this old TV commercial advertising the boxed set that got me hooked.
Or the always hilarious 8-bit Theater bit.
"I'm a monster...Rawr!"
On a side note, the Tiefling appears to be from the Bay Area. (Who else says Hella?)
I don't know that the most recent entry, Red Box Ninjas, is as universally funny -- but it does have a certain resonance with me as a Dungeon Master. We've all had groups like the one depicted in this cartoon.
I couldn't resist putting in this old TV commercial advertising the boxed set that got me hooked.
Or the always hilarious 8-bit Theater bit.
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