Movie Review: Red 2

Movie Review: Red 2 — Blue Ink Alchemy

As much as people will say "Lightning never strikes twice," the Empire State Building in New York City would beg to differ. It's why sequels keep getting made. The folks in charge of the production of entertainment like to keep giving the people what they want. Sometimes this leads to degradation through iteration, like seasons of Jersey Shore or movie adaptations of Star Trek: The Next Generation. At other times, though, quality is preserved for the most part, like seasons of Supernatural or the sequel Red 2. Retired & Extremely Dangerous ex-CIA counter-intelligence asset Frank Moses is settling into a domesticated life with his main squeeze when his paranoid buddy Martin tries to rope him into a job. Martin's car is bombed and Frank decides it's time to strap his spurs on again. It turns out that an operation they did back in their heyday is coming back to haunt them in the form of a weapon of mass destruction hidden somewhere in the Kremlin. With the US government sending relentless goons and hiring expert assassins, and betrayal waiting around every corner, Frank must stay one step ahead while trying to keep his girl safe, even as she tries to be a bigger part of his life. So here we are again, in a follow-up to Red, a harmless and somewhat formulaic action comedy based on Warren Ellis' graphic novel about old folks kicking ass. To the film's credit, it's more than a little aware of its roots in the media of panels and dialog balloons, as transitions from one world-wide locale to the next find the characters rendered as art before they're swept away. It was a little touch I appreciated, and I also liked that Red 2 feels more like a global film. Like Pacific Rim, it feels larger in scope than the unfortunately jingoistic tendency of Hollywood films to remain focused on America. I mean, this year alone we had two movies in a row about the White House getting smashed by terrorists.
Just another day out with friends... The other aspect that Red 2 shares with Pacific Rim is the fact that not a lot of time is spent in emotional low states. This is a movie more concerned with having fun and keeping the story moving than being grim or brooding or even all that realistic. Like its predecessor, the aim is for largely unoffensive entertainment for audience members of age for its subject matter. The movie is kept afloat on its situational humor, some inventive fight and infiltration scenes, and a good deal of star power. If you're interested in Red 2, chances are it's because of who's in it. A good deal of Anthony Hopkins' role involves what I might uncharitably call fan service. While it's enjoyable on the whole, a few elements feel slightly tacked on to emphasize this or that star. It doesn't take anything away from the movie, at least for me, but it's a flaw that bears a mention. As much as Red 2 does what every sequel sets out to do - build on the experiences of the previous story, expand its scope, raise the stakes, and draw in more audience - it also bears mentioning that more of the same might not be what you're looking for as a movie-goer. Then again, enough people went to see Man of Steel and Star Trek: Into Darkness to justify more of those same coming soon (and yes, I was one of them, so I'm just as guilty), so maybe I'm just making mountains out of molehills here.
Classing up everything she's in. Stuff I Liked: The broader scope works in keeping the formula fresh. The action remains inventive and, at times, quite funny. It's nice to see a relationship dynamic that, while troubled, is stable enough that discussions do not explode into arguments or pointless shouting matches. There's a maturity to this action comedy that I appreciate; no cheap jokes or toilet humor here, save for one scene. Stuff I Didn't Like: It's still a formula piece, for better or worse. The motions the cast goes through are familiar and for some it may be a case of more of the same not being enough. There's very little to challenge the mind, and the writers take no real risks with the material. Stuff I Loved: I'm so glad they brought back Brian Cox, albeit briefly. I loved seeing Anthony Hopkins switch so easily from tottering old crazy man to razor-edged mad scientist. For someone who wasn't a big fan of the GI Joe movie but appreciated the martial artistry of Storm Shadow, Byung-hun Lee was a delight to see in action. The entire cast is on board for this, they have a great time, and the fun is infectious. Bottom Line: Red 2 is, ultimately, completely inoffensive. On the one hand, it's a sequel so safe and linear that some might find it downright boring. On the other, though, it's infused with more than enough character and just enough heart to keep any audience who liked the first movie interested in seeing the second through to the end. If nothing else, in a summer that seems overly concerned with making their movies grim and dark and brooding and serious, sometimes all you need is the sight of Helen Mirren shooting people with all of the elegance you'd expect from someone of her stature.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Movie Review: Red 2

Movie Review: Red 2 — Blue Ink Alchemy

As much as people will say "Lightning never strikes twice," the Empire State Building in New York City would beg to differ. It's why sequels keep getting made. The folks in charge of the production of entertainment like to keep giving the people what they want. Sometimes this leads to degradation through iteration, like seasons of Jersey Shore or movie adaptations of Star Trek: The Next Generation. At other times, though, quality is preserved for the most part, like seasons of Supernatural or the sequel Red 2. Retired & Extremely Dangerous ex-CIA counter-intelligence asset Frank Moses is settling into a domesticated life with his main squeeze when his paranoid buddy Martin tries to rope him into a job. Martin's car is bombed and Frank decides it's time to strap his spurs on again. It turns out that an operation they did back in their heyday is coming back to haunt them in the form of a weapon of mass destruction hidden somewhere in the Kremlin. With the US government sending relentless goons and hiring expert assassins, and betrayal waiting around every corner, Frank must stay one step ahead while trying to keep his girl safe, even as she tries to be a bigger part of his life. So here we are again, in a follow-up to Red, a harmless if somewhat formulaic action comedy based on Warren Ellis' graphic novel about old folks kicking ass. To the film's credit, it's more than a little aware of its roots in the media of panels and dialog balloons, as transitions from one world-wide locale to the next find the characters rendered as art before they're swept away. It was a little touch I appreciated, and I also liked that Red 2 feels more like a global film. Like Pacific Rim, it feels larger in scope than the unfortunately jingoistic tendency of Hollywood films to remain focused on America. I mean, this year alone we had two movies in a row about the White House getting smashed by terrorists.
Just another day out with friends... The other aspect that Red 2 shares with Pacific Rim is the fact that not a lot of time is spent in emotional low states. This is a movie more concerned with having fun and keeping the story moving than being grim or brooding or even all that realistic. Like its predecessor, the aim is for largely unoffensive entertainment for audience members of age for its subject matter. The movie is kept afloat on its situational humor, some inventive fight and infiltration scenes, and a good deal of star power. If you're interested in Red 2, chances are it's because of who's in it. A good deal of Anthony Hopkins' role involves what I might uncharitably call fan service. While it's enjoyable on the whole, a few elements feel slightly tacked on to emphasize this or that star. It doesn't take anything away from the movie, at least for me, but it's a flaw that bears a mention. As much as Red 2 does what every sequel sets out to do - build on the experiences of the previous story, expand its scope, raise the stakes, and draw in more audience - it also bears mentioning that more of the same might not be what you're looking for as a movie-goer. Then again, enough people went to see Man of Steel and Star Trek: Into Darkness to justify more of those same coming soon (and yes, I was one of them, so I'm just as guilty), so maybe I'm just making mountains out of molehills here.
Classing up everything she's in. Stuff I Liked: The broader scope works in keeping the formula fresh. The action remains inventive and, at times, quite funny. It's nice to see a relationship dynamic that, while troubled, is stable enough that discussions do not explode into arguments or pointless shouting matches. There's a maturity to this action comedy that I appreciate; no cheap jokes or toilet humor here, save for one scene. Stuff I Didn't Like: It's still a formula piece, for better or worse. The motions the cast goes through are familiar and for some it may be a case of more of the same not being enough. There's very little to challenge the mind, and the writers take no real risks with the material. Stuff I Loved: I'm so glad they brought back Brian Cox, albeit briefly. I loved seeing Anthony Hopkins switch so easily from tottering old crazy man to razor-edged mad scientist. For someone who wasn't a big fan of the GI Joe movie but appreciated the martial artistry of Storm Shadow, Byung-hun Lee was a delight to see in action. The entire cast is on board for this, they have a great time, and the fun is infectious. Bottom Line: Red 2 is, ultimately, completely inoffensive. On the one hand, it's a sequel so safe and linear that some might find it downright boring. On the other, though, it's infused with more than enough character and just enough heart to keep any audience who liked the first movie interested in seeing the second through to the end. If nothing else, in a summer that seems overly concerned with making their movies grim and dark and brooding and serious, sometimes all you need is the sight of Helen Mirren shooting people with all of the elegance you'd expect from someone of her stature.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

And We're Back!

And We're Back! — Blue Ink Alchemy

So apparently GoDaddy had to yank on my site's chain for some reason. Fun times! I figured I would do another quick Tumblr post this morning and prepare my review of Red 2 for tomorrow which is when I thought the site would be back up. But now it is and I'm uncertain of how to proceed. So here's the rest of the week: tomorrow's that review, Thursday is this week's Flash Fiction, and Friday is the Writer Report. Hopefully with good news on the progress of Cold Streets as it nears completion. Thanks for hanging in with me, and I'm looking forward to sharing more stories, reviews, and pontifications with you!

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Writer Report: Litany of Excuses

Writer Report: Litany of Excuses — Blue Ink Alchemy

Writers of fiction tend to be pretty good at lying. We even lie to ourselves from time to time. "I'll make time to write after I get off of work." "I just need another drink to feel up to writing." "One more turn, then into the word mines I go!" So on and so forth. I could talk about all sorts of mitigating factors and less than ideal reasons why I got behind in my word count this week, but in the end, all that matters is that I didn't make my goals. I could blame the generosity of good friends during the Steam sale, or any number of less positive outside factors, but boil it all down, and the shortcomings are all on my head. I'm close to the end of Cold Streets now. There's a part of me that believes I'm about to hit the last big hill that will rocket me towards the egress and gift shop of this latest roller coaster of wordsmithing. Maybe all I need is one last concerted push. It's hard to say. I'm going to try and shake off this week and move on. It's been hard for lots of people. The next one better be an improvement. I still believe a better future is something worth striving towards and fighting for. I just need to puzzle out what that better future is for me, and once I do, make a plan to get started on it as soon as possible.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Writer Report: Litany of Excuses

Writer Report: Litany of Excuses — Blue Ink Alchemy

Writers of fiction tend to be pretty good at lying. We even lie to ourselves from time to time. "I'll make time to write after I get off of work." "I just need another drink to feel up to writing." "One more turn, then into the word mines I go!" So on and so forth. I could talk about all sorts of mitigating factors and less than ideal reasons why I got behind in my word count this week, but in the end, all that matters is that I didn't make my goals. I'm close to the end of Cold Streets now. There's a part of me that believes I'm about to hit the last big hill that will rocket me towards the egress and gift shop of this latest roller coaster of wordsmithing. Maybe all I need is one last concerted push. It's hard to say. I'm going to try and shake off this week and move on. It's been hard for lots of people. The next one better be an improvement. I still believe a better future is something worth striving towards and fighting for. I just need to puzzle out what that better future is for me, and once I do, make a plan to get started on it as soon as possible.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Game Review: Endless Space

Game Review: Endless Space — Blue Ink Alchemy

I'm no stranger to grand strategy. I grew up learning the ropes in old Avalon Hill wargames, and made the transition easily to so called "4X" games - exploration, expansion, exploitation and extermination - on the PC. Master of Orion was perhaps my favorite of these games, mostly because it was set in space. It's been a while since anything has come close to the experience that game provided, and while I do appreciate the occasional game of Civilization V, the look and feel of Endless Space made me very excited. The universe is ancient, vast, and mysterious. Long before any of the Factions that currently seek control of the galaxy left their home worlds for the stars, there were the Endless. While these beings mastered all aspects of knowledge from time-space manipulation to the extension of life itself, they ultimately fell to internal conflict. All that remain of the Endless are their ruined temples, their legacy of expansion and exploration, and the substance known only as Dust. It is Dust that holds the secrets that gave power to the Endless, and it is Dust that the Factions of the galaxy seek to control and understand. Not since the original Masters of Orion has a strategy game in space given me the dreaded and wonderful "One More Turn" syndrome to this degree. This affliction is most common amongst the players of grand strategy potentate Civilization, and Endless Space conveys that experience beautifully. The organic nature of the clean interface, the ease of moving from technology trees to empire displays to fleet construction, the clip at which notices come in for your attention, the layout of the map and the subtle, atmospheric score all add up to the sort of immersion that will consume your evenings and devour your weekends. You'll colonize a new world, set up your next tech path, and just before you decide to save and quit, it'll occur to you that your neighbor is breathing down your neck. So you decide to retool for defense and prepare yourself for a counter-attack, and the next thing you know it's three hours later and the sun is going to be coming up soon oh bollocks.
It's been said the map resembles the Mass Effect galaxy. This is not a bad thing. As with many other 4X games, Endless Space does not pigeonhole the player into one form of play or another. Military campaigns, diplomacy, economic domination and scientific discovery are all viable paths to victory. If you choose to engage in combat, the game uses an interesting system of action cards for your fleets. You choose the tactics your admirals will employ, hoping that those tactics will counter whatever your opponents choose. While you can't take direct control of your ships as you could in Master of Orion, the graphics engine still renders the battles elegantly if you choose to view the action. You can have the battle resolve automatically, as well, if you want to move on to your next task. If I had a complaint about Endless Space, it would be that the game is a little austere. The interface is clean and well-organized, to be sure, but it also lacks a certain amount of personality. While the various screens and commands are not what I would call unfriendly or unwieldy, aspects like the nature of space combat and the diplomacy screens can make you feel removed from the experience. There's nothing like the 'conversations' one had in Master of Orion; you don't get to see an enemy Faction actually get pissed at you for taking a shot at their fleet. It's just another notification on the side of the screen, to be read and processed before you move on. As much as it helps the game maintain a steady flow, it removes some of the personality the game could have exhibited.
"FIRE EVERYTHING!!!" That said, I feel confident in recommending Endless Space. I'd do my usual run-down at the end, here, but the fact of the matter is I need to play more of the game before I do that. As it happens, I seem to have played myself into a corner in my current game and it's time for me to start over. As frustrating as this would normally be, I find myself looking forward to seeing what the new home system looks like, planning out my tech path, and preparing for negotiations and perhaps warfare with neighboring factions. All I need is one more turn. Just one more turn...

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Blue Ink Alchemy

"Life Will Welcome You Back"

"Life Will Welcome You Back" — Blue Ink Alchemy

I'm postponing my review until tomorrow. This is too important not to share. Please watch the following, whether you're a gamer yourself or you have one in your family. [tube]FA2rQqCdSjI[/tube]

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Write Angry

Write Angry — Blue Ink Alchemy

Courtesy Floating Robes Mondays can be difficult. Yesterday especially was a trial. The days in which I am legitimately frustrated, angry, or stressed about a project in front of me have been few and far between, but this was a doozy. I drove home from the office hours after I'd usually leave, thinking about how tired I already was, the level at which I was enervated, and keeping the fury from informing the hands on the wheel. It occurred to me that it was the perfect time to write. Neil Gaiman has said you need to write when you're uninspired. This is true. Chuck Wendig's advice on when and how to write tends to be condensed into little profane gems like "Art Harder, Motherfucker!" and I agree with him, as well. Indeed, it applies no matter what emotional funk you might be in: a dark one, a dour one, a sad one, an angry one. If you're a writer, it's important to keep writing. Remember that the words you don't write will never be read by another person. That world in your head will never really come to life. Just keep that in mind.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Flash Fiction: The Message

Flash Fiction: The Message — Blue Ink Alchemy

This week's prompt from Terribleminds had me using this random plot generator. It coughed up the following:

The story starts when your protagonist tries to stop a robbery. Another character is a messenger who wants your protagonist dead.

I hope you enjoy the result!

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The gunshot cut through the muted conversations and soft rock in the bank lobby. "Everybody on the ground! This is a robbery!" Samantha hit the ground along with everybody else, quickly taking stock of the situation. There were three of them. All of them had pulled on balaclavas the moment the leader had pulled out his gun, a small automatic. The other two had carried shotguns into the bank under their jackets. The guard close to the door was already down, holding his bloody nose. She risked another glance up: the butt of the guard's revolver jutted up out of the jeans of one of the guys with shotguns. Definitely amateurs. No pro stuffs a gun in the direction of their junk like that. Putting her eyes back down as the leader gave a speil about individuals' money being insured, she tried to remember what she had seen before the situation began. The robbers were wearing jeans and running shoes; from what she'd seen of their frames, they were in their late teens or early twenties. Some of Don Giorgio's numbers runners were that young, but none of them would be dumb enough to undertake an unauthorized strong-arm robbery. The bank was on neutral turf between the Italians and the Chinese; either of them making a move like this would be suicidal. It was difficult for her to keep her head down and thus limit her available information. She was next to the counter on the customer side; that meant she was about eight paces from the door. She didn't know the actual distance to the vault or the offices from where the bank employees and homeowners looking for lower rates were getting dragged out. Samantha risked looking up a bit towards the fresh hostages: three employees, two housewives, one guy who had the look of an accountant, or perhaps an attorney. Either way, none of them were likely to be in a position or inclination to help her. She heard a grunt from behind the counter, and it definitely sounded like it was above her, not on the same level. She tried not to tense up in anticipation. "Hey, come here and give me a hand with this." So the kid in charge was at least smart enough not to say names. They could be difficult to identify if they got away. As one of the guys with shotguns headed for the vault, presumably to help get a door open or stuff more money into bags, Samantha gauged the position of the third robber. When he was close enough, she started faking a cough, rolling over onto her back. The robber came by to investigate, glaring down at her. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Samantha didn't respond, faking her cough, looking up at the ceiling. The robber stepped over her, one foot on either side of her, raising his shotgun. She could see the end of the barrel shaking. She would have to be very careful, and very fast, if she wanted to keep her head intact. She sat up and grabbed the shotgun in one motion, pulling the barrel to the side of her shoulder and away from the others. Before he could react, she brought her knee up hard, slamming into his crotch. His eyes bulged out of his balaclava and he made a noise like a beached walrus. The shotgun game out of his hands, and as she stood, she reached down and pulled the revolver free of his jeans. Shaking her head at the kid, she smacked him between the eyes with the butt of the pistol. He collapsed at her feet. The other two came out of the vault, but she was already taking aim. "Drop your weapons! Federal agent!" The one with the shotgun complied immediately. The other one, his mouth a grimace of annoyance, had his semi-automatic pistol in the grip of a trained shooter. "You useless shit." Before Samantha knew what was happening, he was turning his pistol to the back of his fellow robber's head and pulling the trigger. The people on the floor started screaming as the dead kid fell to the tiled floor behind the counter. Samantha cocked her revolver. "It doesn't have to be this way." "Yes it does, Agent Barnum. I came here to deliver a message." She blinked. "What are you talking about?" "We're tired of those old farts taking out their old grudges in our neighborhoods. Other banks in both the Triad and Giorgio territories are going up today. We're cleaning house, and you're in our way." "Who is we?" "Die guessing." Sirens and screeching tires outside made him glance away. Samantha took her shot. Blood flew from the young man's shoulder and he staggered, slipping in the blood spreading from his fallen friend. She moved around the counter to get close to him, but as she did, she saw him putting his dead compatriot's shotgun under his chin. "Drop it!" "Have fun with my dental records." He pulled the trigger. Samantha winced, feeling warm ichor spatter her face. The security guard had gotten to his feet to let in the cops. Samantha wiped her face with a tissue with one hand, holding up her badge with the other. "Samantha Barnum, FBI." The officer in front nodded to her as he holstered his sidearm. "What's the situation, ma'am?" "This was made to look like a robbery, but there's something else going on. Get on the horn, find out if any other holdups are in progress." "We're on it." She glanced towards the vault, then looked again. The robbers had brought in duffel bags, presumably to make their escape with their ill-gotten gains, but one of them was laying open. Samantha saw several grey blocks, a tangle of wires, and large LED numbers, counting down. "Better get your bomb squad down here, too. Then I'll need your help getting these people out of here." "What's going on?" "In a word? War's been declared."

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Flash Fiction: The Message

Flash Fiction: The Message — Blue Ink Alchemy

This week's prompt from Terribleminds had me using this random plot generator. It coughed up the following:

The story starts when your protagonist tries to stop a robbery. Another character is a messenger who wants your protagonist dead.

I hope you enjoy the result!

---

The gunshot cut through the muted conversations and soft rock in the bank lobby. "Everybody on the ground! This is a robbery!" Samantha hit the ground along with everybody else, quickly taking stock of the situation. There were three of them. All of them had pulled on balaclavas the moment the leader had pulled out his gun, a small automatic. The other two had carried shotguns into the bank under their jackets. The guard close to the door was already down, holding his bloody nose. She risked another glance up: the butt of the guard's revolver jutted up out of the jeans of one of the guys with shotguns. Definitely amateurs. No pro stuffs a gun in the direction of their junk like that. Putting her eyes back down as the leader gave a speil about individuals' money being insured, she tried to remember what she had seen before the situation began. The robbers were wearing jeans and running shoes; from what she'd seen of their frames, they were in their late teens or early twenties. Some of Don Giorgio's numbers runners were that young, but none of them would be dumb enough to undertake an unauthorized strong-arm robbery. The bank was on neutral turf between the Italians and the Chinese; either of them making a move like this would be suicidal. It was difficult for her to keep her head down and thus limit her available information. She was next to the counter on the customer side; that meant she was about eight paces from the door. She didn't know the actual distance to the vault or the offices from where the bank employees and homeowners looking for lower rates were getting dragged out. Samantha risked looking up a bit towards the fresh hostages: three employees, two housewives, one guy who had the look of an accountant, or perhaps an attorney. Either way, none of them were likely to be in a position or inclination to help her. She heard a grunt from behind the counter, and it definitely sounded like it was above her, not on the same level. She tried not to tense up in anticipation. "Hey, come here and give me a hand with this." So the kid in charge was at least smart enough not to say names. They could be difficult to identify if they got away. As one of the guys with shotguns headed for the vault, presumably to help get a door open or stuff more money into bags, Samantha gauged the position of the third robber. When he was close enough, she started faking a cough, rolling over onto her back. The robber came by to investigate, glaring down at her. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Samantha didn't respond, faking her cough, looking up at the ceiling. The robber stepped over her, one foot on either side of her, raising his shotgun. She could see the end of the barrel shaking. She would have to be very careful, and very fast, if she wanted to keep her head intact. She sat up and grabbed the shotgun in one motion, pulling the barrel to the side of her shoulder and away from the others. Before he could react, she brought her knee up hard, slamming into his crotch. His eyes bulged out of his balaclava and he made a noise like a beached walrus. The shotgun game out of his hands, and as she stood, she reached down and pulled the revolver free of his jeans. Shaking her head at the kid, she smacked him between the eyes with the butt of the pistol. He collapsed at her feet. The other two came out of the vault, but she was already taking aim. "Drop your weapons! Federal agent!" The one with the shotgun complied immediately. The other one, his mouth a grimace of annoyance, had his semi-automatic pistol in the grip of a trained shooter. "You useless shit." Before Samantha knew what was happening, he was turning his pistol to the back of his fellow robber's head and pulling the trigger. The people on the floor started screaming as the dead kid fell to the tiled floor behind the counter. Samantha cocked her revolver. "It doesn't have to be this way." "Yes it does, Agent Barnum. I came here to deliver a message." She blinked. "What are you talking about?" "We're tired of those old farts taking out their old grudges in our neighborhoods. Other banks in both the Triad and Giorgio territories are going up today. We're cleaning house, and you're in our way." "Who is we?" "Die guessing." Sirens and screeching tires outside made him glance away. Samantha took her shot. Blood flew from the young man's shoulder and he staggered, slipping in the blood spreading from his fallen friend. She moved around the counter to get close to him, but as she did, she saw him putting his dead compatriot's shotgun under his chin. "Drop it!" "Have fun with my dental records." He pulled the trigger. Samantha winced, feeling warm ichor spatter her face. The security guard had gotten to his feet to let in the cops. Samantha wiped her face with a tissue with one hand, holding up her badge with the other. "Samantha Barnum, FBI." The officer in front nodded to her as he holstered his sidearm. "What's the situation, ma'am?" "This was made to look like a robbery, but there's something else going on. Get on the horn, find out if any other holdups are in progress." "We're on it." She glanced towards the vault, then looked again. The robbers had brought in duffel bags, presumably to make their escape with their ill-gotten gains, but one of them was laying open. Samantha saw several grey blocks, a tangle of wires, and large LED numbers, counting down. "Better get your bomb squad down here, too. Then I'll need your help getting these people out of here." "What's going on?" "In a word? War's been declared."

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Writer Report: Too Darn Hot

Writer Report: Too Darn Hot — Blue Ink Alchemy

Oof. It's been difficult at times to go out my door this week. Heat just hits me like a hammer in the chest. Add to that the injury I did to myself last weekend, and I haven't exactly been operating at my best. Still, I've tried to make the most of it. Cold Streets is at an odd place, close to being finished but facing down a couple of large obstacles. They're not insurmountable, but I also don't want to rush ahead and miss anything crucial. Then again, that's why I'm lining up test readers; hopefully one of them will call things out when I mess something up. Instead of just having an idea in mind of what to do over the weekend, I'm going to try to schedule things. It may help me stay on-task.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Re-Post: Tabletop as Brain Food

Re-Post: Tabletop as Brain Food — Blue Ink Alchemy

Last night I was getting my foot looked at. I wanted to talk about tabletop games informing good thought patterns but ran out of time. So while I work on that, here's my last really in-depth post on tabletop games as a means of comparison or something. Also I'm actually running (or was before my injury) and lifting so you can kind of ignore the first paragraph.

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I've put myself on a path to improve my physical well-being. Being more mindful of what and how much I eat, walking with the intent to start running, looking into a local gym, and so on. Mostly, I fear the atrophy that comes with a sedentary day job and an equally low-impact life at home, and if I'm honest, I'm unhappy with the amount of flab I currently have on my frame. However, making such a change is relatively easy. The body can adapt to adjustments in schedule and activity rather well, all things being equal, and it's really a matter of establishing and sticking to habits than anything else. But what about the brain? The most vital of organs also needs maintenance and attention as we age. It's important to keep the mind engaged and not just feed it something distracting or shallow all of the time. I mean, I won't begrudge people who really enjoy "Dancing With The Stars" or "Two And A Half Men", some people do need to unwind with that kind of fare. I'm simply not one of them. As much as I like the occasional campy pleasure like Flash Gordon, more often than not I look to have my brain fed, to keep it trained, to present it with challenges it must overcome. That, in part, is why I enjoy tabletop games so much. It took me a while in my youth to really grasp how important it was to me to keep playing them. For a time, I simply enjoyed spending time with my dad, even if I would sometimes let myself get bored between moves rather than studying his strategy and planning my response. Nowadays I can't imagine sitting entirely idle during an opponent's turn, though I do occasionally get distracted. Not only is it necessary to pay attention in order to look for victory, it's an exercise in putting yourself in another's position, or imagining the other as a complex being instead of just someone to beat. That, to me, is just as important as winning. I am quite fortunate to be in a place where I can spend time around other gamers who are engaging in this way almost constantly. My co-workers play and even design games on a daily basis. A fantastic store is within easy driving distance to present all sorts of challenges. My father lives a bit further up the road. When I get home, I have the option to play something like Civilization V, Magic: the Gathering - Duels of the Planeswalkers, or Blood Bowl with other human beings. And on rare occasions, a game of Chez Geek or Cards Against Humanity might break out. To me, the important factor in this is that other people are involved. No programmed response or solitaire experience really throws a wrench into your thought processes like another live human being. It makes the problem solving more complex, and thus more rewarding, even when you lose. On top of that, being in a situation with another person as your opponent builds character and social skills. Trite as it may sound, we learn more from losing than from winning, both about how we play and how we act. It's one thing to gnash your teeth and swear at something like Super Meat Boy or Hotline Miami; doing so at a stranger or even a friend is quite another issue. Fun as it can be amongst people who know you to engage in name-calling for the sake of in-game banter, when it comes to playing with strangers or in a competition it's important to know your limits and when and how to gracefully bow out of things, or the optimal way to accept and celebrate victory in front of those who've lost. You can only get that through this sort of play, and you learn it as your brain is trained. Boring as it may seem to some outside observers, when I'm engaged in a game like this, I assure you, I'm never really bored.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Movie Review: Pacific Rim

Movie Review: Pacific Rim — Blue Ink Alchemy

Moving pictures are first and foremost a form of entertainment. As much as the storytelling form has evolved to deliver stunning achievements such as 2001: A Space Odyssey and introverted art-haus "tour-de-force" experiences like Antichrist, not every film has to reach for those existentialist or high-minded goals. Sometimes, a writer or director wants to tell a straightforward story. They want to pay homage to the films that made them interested in the medium in the first place. They want to use the tools they've learned to wield to craft something previously considered impossible. One such director is Guillermo del Toro, and one such movie is Pacific Rim. Sometime within the next year at the time of writing this, a major geological event will happen in the depths of the Pacific Ocean. Two tectonic plates will pull apart and reveal a rift between our world and another dimension. Out of that rift come massive, city-destroying monsters, which we come to call kaiju. Conventional weaponry is barely effective and dangerous to use, so humanity bands together to create Jaegers, human-piloted robots comparable in size to the kaiju and capable of throwing down with them. While they prove capable of handling the kaiju, many world leaders feel more confident in massive safety walls to hide behind, and so the Jaeger program is discontinued. Unwilling to go down without a fight, the remaining Rangers and their Jaegers rally for a last-ditch assault on the rift itself. Destruction on a massive scale is a staple of blockbuster movies. Even this year, cities and buildings and skyscrapers alike have been leveled. What sets Pacific Rim apart, other than its unique premise unfettered by extant intellectual property, is that it is shot and presented in a way that gives the audience a true sense of scale in terms of the battles and the disaster. Everything is cleanly shot, and the kaiju in particular have unique looks, abilities, and even personalities that come across in their design and movement. It is a testament to del Toro's eye and imagination that these monsters, which could have been generic and interchangeable, have a sense of uniqueness without a word needing to be spoken. And considering how much time is devoted to them, that goes triple for the Jaegers.
There's nothing wrong with keeping your story & characters simple. In addition to the fact that they're giant warrior robots that are definitely an homage to everything from the many Gundam suits to Big O, the Jaegers are the vehicles by which are heroes are destined to ride to victory. What sets them apart is the fact that running a war machine that massive with a neural interface is too taxing for a single human brain. As the pilot is essentially the brain of the machine, two pilots, one for each hemisphere of the brain, should be linked together to operate a Jaeger. Not only does this make the realization of the Jaegers another unique aspect of Pacific Rim, it allows characters to come into their own without wordy exposition. While there will be moments that are certain to cause frothing rage amongst physics experts, none of the admittedly questionable science is explained away with overly wordy technobabble. Both of these facts are marks in the favor of the film. Going back to the characters, the mechanics of the "Drift" (the connection the pilots share) allow our main characters to become three-dimensional and realized through action and visuals rather than more traditional back-and-forth dialog. Mako Mori, in particular, gains her depth and motivation from what we see of her when she enters the Drift for the first time. Raleigh Becket, who until this point was a somewhat typical if well-implemented action movie protagonist, shifts to our point of reference character, and shows us the hidden depths of the characters while continuing to deliver on scale and powerful visual style. The characters in Pacific Rim may not be the most complex you'll ever encounter in cinema, but what is done with them is done very well, showing instead of telling at almost every turn. At no point are we thrown out of the experience because Idris Elba or Ron Perlman have to turn to the camera and explain something to audience. Performances are immediate, immersive, and another well-polished facet of this absolute gem.
It's good to see movie monsters this unique, diverse, and menacing. When you get right down to it, Pacific Rim is a simple movie. Big monsters, big robots, they fight, restart the clock. But its simplicity is actually a strength. Without the expectations of a franchise, anticipation of a sequel or prequel, and freedom from existential angst or greater metaphors, the story can be told at a good pace with visual panache and a deep and abiding love for all of the inspiration that's lead us to this moment. I would like to reiterate something I've said in the past, however: simple is not the same thing as dumb. The story is not interested in any cinematic or narrative slight-of-hand to convince you that it's anything more than the apex of monster movies, the spiritual descendant of everything from Godzilla to the Power Rangers all grown up and going about its business of thrilling action set pieces and swaths of wanton destruction with brains, style, and precision. Simple as it is, Pacific Rim is also very smart as well as being downright joyous and boisterous in its presentation, which is a very nice change of pace from most of the stuff we get from Hollywood these days. Stuff I Liked: This world feels real in a lot of ways. I like that people react to both the kaiju and the Jaegers in realistic ways - some love them both and just like seeing them fight, some fear the Jaegers just as much as the kaiju, some are just in it to make money, etc. A lot of little touches stand out to me: Gypsy Danger's 'nose art', the use of the Hansen's dog on their jackets, Pentecost's name stenciled onto his tin, the way each kaiju appears to be inspired by a different sea creature, etc. Stuff I Didn't Like: The quirky scientists were perhaps a bit too quirky. The simplicity of the plot leads it to be somewhat predictable, even if the presentation is good and smart. We barely get a feel for the Rangers who are not our heroes. Stuff I Loved: The action set pieces rightfully take center stage, because they are truly awesome in scope and implementation. There are genuine thrills to be had from beginning to end. Idris Elba and Ron Perlman are two of my favorite actors, and I'm glad that they're the biggest names in the cast. The movie does not feel its length, does not overstay its welcome, does what it does with panache and flair, and is certain to stand up to repeated viewings. Bottom Line: Pacific Rim is pure, undiluted, unashamed, and utterly enjoyable cinematic entertainment. It doesn't bring you down with dour plodding and stone-faced seriousness like Man of Steel. It may crib notes from everything from Godzilla movies to Neon Genesis Evangelion, but it does not retread ideas wholesale like Star Trek: Into Darkness. Masterful direction, decent characterization, a fully-realized and original world that feels both lived-in and inclusive, surprisingly realistic proportions and physics, and an overall sense of fun and excitement elevates it above the mediocrity of other summer movies. While it may never win any awards for gripping interpersonal drama or mind-bending existential angst, it should win one for existing at all in this cynical, materialistic, overly smug and downright depressing age. It's fun at the movies the way fun at the movies should be. If you can get behind the idea that it's okay for a movie to be fun, you'll enjoy Pacific Rim quite a bit; if, on the other hand, you think "movies" and "fun" are not something that should cohabit, I guess you'll have to wait until Nietzsche's Ecco Homo gets adapted into a film before going to the cinema again.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Flash Fiction: Bump In The Night Raven

Flash Fiction: Bump In The Night Raven — Blue Ink Alchemy

From the Terribleminds challenge "Last Lines First" comes...

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"Truth be told, I'm not sure any of them are actually dead." The mug of coffee shook in the engineer's hands. The nails were chipped and the fingers calloused from years of cleaning, changing, tightening, and banging the many moving parts required for jump drives. The man facing the engineer, wearing vintage suspenders over a tailored shirt with an open collar, nodded slowly. "Just... take your time, Parker. Who was the first to die?" "Rigger. Co-pilot. He, uh... he heard something, down in the bay. He didn't check in for hours. Mosely, he was my partner, and he went to find Rigger. He... found Rigger's comm unit. It was covered in blood." The well-dressed man exchanged a look with the room's third occupant. Nothing was said. After the engineer took a shaky sip of his coffee, he continued. "Mosely was next, of course. He went to the head - ate too much cornbread. He always ate too much cornbread. Anyway, I heard the scream. I ran to the head, opened the door, and his toolbelt was there. The vent was hanging off of its frame. I guess... I guess whatever it was grabbed him and yanked him up through there. His toolbelt wasn't bloody, though. There was this... goop on it." "'Goop'." "Don't know how else to describe it. Doctor Bolton took a sample, and told us later it was a 'viscous secretion', whatever that means. That was after two of the mining crew got snagged. We still hadn't seen the thing. It was down to me, Captain Hammond, Akers the pilot, Doctor Bolton, Lydia the company rep, and Des the mining foreman. We were talking about abandoning ship and looking for help." "What happened?" "We... we saw Rigger." The man in the suspenders leaned towards Parker. "Describe exactly what you saw." "He was standing there, in the door to the mess hall. He had... this chunk missing from his neck. One good eye. He stared at me..." Parker gripped the mug in his hands, trying to steady them. "It was like getting stared at by an animal at a zoo. There's something there but it's not him. It's not the guy I used to swap dirty jokes with over moonshine on third watch." "Was it just Rigger?" "At first. He came into the room, went right for Captain Hammond. We tried to fight him off. But he was so strong. Stronger than I thought he'd be. Then Mosely came in, and... I got away. I ran." "Nobody can blame you for that. What happened next?" "You need two people to activate the self-destruct. Nobody else made it out after me. So I grabbed a shuttle and flew out of there. I was never a good pilot, but we were in deep space. I just headed straight towards Proxima, and that's when the patrol picked me up." Parker finished his coffee. "Mister Cogburn... am I in trouble?" Cogburn shook his head. "No, you're not personally in trouble. The Company knows that there was nothing more you could do. But I wanted to get your story first-hand." Before Parker could ask why, Cogburn produced his tablet and showed the image on it to the engineer. "The Night Raven, your prospecting vessel, was spotted by patrols on a direct course for the Sol system." "... Earth?" "That's right. If they get to Earth, they can either take control of the hub of space travel for all the colonies, or head for the surface to make more... things. We're still not sure exactly what we're up against here, but we do know we can't let that ship reach Earth." Parker looked to the other figure facing him. "Is... is that why you're here?" Cogburn turned to the person next to him. "At this point, the Company is asking the United Colonial Military Command for help. Lieutenant Olsen here is in command of an Expeditionary Platoon operating out of Barnard's." He handed Olsen the tablet. "Do you think you'll be able to help, Lieutenant? We need to intercept the Night Raven, capture at least one of the infected subjects, and determine the origin of this... contagion. The Company is willing to give you anything you need." Olsen frowned. "Are you and Parker coming?" Cogburn shrugged. "I doubt Parker would want to come along." "Oh, Jesus, God, no." "Right. So it'd just be me. I'm the Company's liaison and work in their R&D department. They wanted to send an executive but we were able to convince them that you'd find a brain more useful than a suit and smile." "You know how to handle a gun, Cogburn?" "I've fired one a couple times. Never at anything living, though." Olsen's face did not soften. She had yet to uncross her arms or move from her position of leaning on the desk, but she looked like the sort of solider who'd be combat-ready at the drop of a hat. Green eyes studied Cogburn from under a close-cropped mop of blonde hair, and the scar on the right side of her mouth for her lip to her chin made her scowl all the more intimidating. "Don't expect my men to hold your hand when things get dicey. Ship invasions are tense, close-quarter clusterfucks under the best of circumstances. I don't like taking civvies into combat zones." "One: I'm not your typical civilian. Two: The Night Raven is owned by the Company and they want to protect their investment. Three: If you have to scuttle the ship, you need someone who can override the ship's fail-safes quickly, and unless one of your soldiers is a former Company employee, that means you need me." Olsen snorted. "That's extortion." "No, Lieutenant, those are the facts." "If you're lying to me, I'll shoot you myself." "Fair enough." "Um." Parker looked up at the two of them. "Does... this mean any of them are still alive?" Cogburn tried to smile. "Maybe. Anything's possible." "Either way," Olsen said, "we'll take it from here. We leave at 0800."

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Blue Ink Alchemy

A Personal Day

A Personal Day — Blue Ink Alchemy

I exhausted a good portion of my morning energy laying out some personal thoughts over on Tumblr. I don't like putting deeply personal stuff here if I can help it, but if you're curious as to what my actual internal headspace looks like, give the above a click. It's a bit long and I'm completely honest, just so you know. Flash Fiction tomorrow, Pacific Rim review Wednesday, turn-based & board game strategy on Thursday, and hopefully more good writing news on Friday. Stay tuned! And thank you for reading. You're what keeps me going.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Writer Report: Home Stretch

Writer Report: Home Stretch — Blue Ink Alchemy

Here we are, within striking distance of the end of Cold Streets. I have three more scenes to do, and all of them are well laid out in my head. I think a week, two at the most, will be all I need to wrap this puppy up. Then I start editing and getting feedback. Arguably, that step's harder than the actual writing. It'll be like I'm doing actual work! I'm going to lay out an updated outline for Godslayer at the same time. That way, I can jump into 350 a day on that one while Cold Streets is getting the rough treatment from friends and colleagues. I think it's going to be a nice change to do something entirely fanciful and completely out of my own head rather than something that's a sequel more grounded in our own world. And on Sunday I believe I'll have Flash Fiction to work on, as well as possibly keeping tabs on some other projects. Energy and confidence are surprisingly high for what is usually a lethargic time of the year for me. I'm going to hold on to this as long as I can, nay-sayers and detractors and doubters be damned.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Even Gamers Need Sleep

Even Gamers Need Sleep — Blue Ink Alchemy

Very short one today, I've been a bit behind in things all morning long. I didn't get enough sleep last night. I stayed up later than I should have playing the closed beta of [GAME TITLE REDACTED]. I need to find others to discuss it with, as I like it but I have issues with it. Anyway. Get more sleep, folks. Writers, gamers, whatever you're doing, you need more sleep to do it.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Game Review: Hotline Miami

Game Review: Hotline Miami — Blue Ink Alchemy

Some of the big names in game development have been around for decades. It can be intimidating to look at a field long occupied by well-known names, and even consider the possibility of entering it. But it's important to have fresh voices and new blood join the fold. Unique perspectives and provocative ideas are the lifeblood of any industry, game design in particular, and nobody can accuse Devolver Digital and Dennaton Interactive of not being unique and provocative. Of course, taking a glance at Hotline Miami, others may describe the designers as "batshit." The plot of the game is, on the surface, rather thread-bare. The protagonist is not given a name within the context of the game; he seems to be just some random dude in Miami during the heady, gratuitous days of the 80s. He gets calls on his answering machine, telling him places to be. He drives there in his DeLorean, and when he gets there, he starts bashing brains in. We're not sure who his targets are, why he's being sent there, or why he even started doing this. All we know is that we have a top-down floor plan of the target building, a bunch of folks with weapons intent on killing us, and the primary goal of killing them first. I've discussed Hotline Miami previously, focusing on its gameplay, so I'm going to hit other things that make this game so interesting to experience. The aesthetic is both infused with the neon and garish juxtaposition of color that is thoroughly 80s, and flickering and pulsing in a way that can only be described as psychedelic. While we see buildings and cars, we see no roads or sidewalks that connect them. The houses and offices in which we commit our brutal acts of mass murder are disconnected from the rest of the world, isolated and afloat in the flickering sea of colors, which makes the entire experience at once unrealistic and searingly unforgettable.
You'll see this message quite a bit. Get used to it. As you play the game, you'll unlock masks and weapons that increase your options for dispatching your fellow man (and the occasional canine). Here, again, the aesthetic and presentation of the game lead to a disconnect between the reality of the situations and our perception of them. While the focus of the gameplay is on the puzzle-like nature of the layouts, patrol patterns, and speed required to successfully avoid getting killed and clear the level at the same time, here again is an example where the art informs the story. Much like ourselves, "Jacket" (the main character) is disconnected from what he's doing on a fundamental level. The presentation of the game's core content not only encapsulates the violence as a challenge to be overcome, but also provides another layer at which we are witnessing the slow decent of a human being's sanity into the dark depths of madness. Before I elaborate more on this point, the game's excellent soundtrack deserves a mention. Rather than going for popular tunes of the time, the developers tapped some very talented independent artists to lend their music to the experience. Sun Araw, M|O|O|N, Jasper Byrne, Scattle, and Perturbator are among the minstrels who pour their talent into make the experience of Hotline Miami incredibly unique. Subtle, low-key trance music playing while you bash someone's skull against a kitchen floor is another level of cognitive dissonance that makes the experience of playing the game both surreal and unforgettable.
Does Jacket even understand what the concept of mercy is at this point? As the game proceeds, events begin to change even as you witness them. People change before your eyes. Events become more and more disconnected. The pace of Hotline Miami coupled with its unique presentation and subtle use of the medium to convey a narrative on several levels makes it a work of mad brilliance. The longer you spend playing it, the deeper you get into its systems, the more it reveals to you in terms of unlocks, ways to approach the challenges, and a deeply satisfying play experience. I can't think of a triple-A studio that would take the chances Hotline Miami takes, and it's one of the many reasons supporting independent game development is in the best interest of anyone interested in this hobby and its growth.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Everything Old Is New Again

Everything Old Is New Again — Blue Ink Alchemy

I've been blogging for years. I'm not sure if you'd call what I've done or have been doing successful or not, when it comes to blogging and other areas of my life, but what I keep coming back to is the fact that old stories still have something to tell us. I have no problem, on a fundamental level, with something getting a reboot or a re-imagining, as long as the core of the story remains intact and the talented people telling the story are either plying close to that core or going in an entirely new direction with it. It's why I can't bring myself to full-on hate or even mildly dislike the new Star Trek films. The settings and characters I and many others grew up with are being taken in a new direction. The storytelling stumbles here and there, and I'm not quite convinced that that Abrams and his crew can, in fact, give us something entirely new out of these old and familiar trappings, but I am cautiously optimistic. In fact, if I were to put Into Darkness and Man of Steel side by side, I'd say that Abrams and company are doing more right by the Starfleet folks than the current bunch at the helm of the DC film universe are doing in terms of breathing new life into their given amphitheater. At least Into Darkness didn't rehash any of its narrative within the film and infused its characters with humanity and charm within the writing, rather than relying on the actors to do that stuff. The problem, as I see it, is that it is far too easy to stick to the old story points and simply apply modern thinking to them, rather than take a tale's themes or characters or message in a new direction. What really bothers me about the practice is how lazy it seems. If you want to use an old tale or property to tell a story, go for it; all that I would ask is that you do something new with it. Another example would be the difference between Immortals and the Clash of the Titans retread: while Immortals had a little trouble staying on-point with its storytelling, its visual imagination and portrayal of ancient Greece felt unique and striking, while the new Titans felt drab and lackluster on pretty much all fronts. I mean, sure, it was still fun to see Sam Worthington fight giant scorpions, and Liam Neeson was born to play gods, but the thrust of the story felt weak because there was nothing new about it. As scarce as new ideas tend to be, it's no wonder that older stories often come up for a rehash now and again. As I've said, I'm all about old stories getting told in new ways. The emphasis here is on 'new' - a good storyteller should try to do something that hasn't been done before, or mix things together that haven't been mixed. Any idiot with a keyboard can bash out a story about a superhero or vampires or old myths - the question is, what makes your story about a superhero or vampires or old myths stand out? What will make people want to read it? Why, at the end of the day, do you have to write it?

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Flash Fiction: The Great Hall

Flash Fiction: The Great Hall — Blue Ink Alchemy

With this week's Flash Fiction Challenge over at Terribleminds being less than 50 words long, I turned to The Brainstormer for a subject on which to write a longer piece. It gave me "Hero to Kin", "Viking", and "bard". Enjoy some last-minute scribbles!

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The fire danced and rose high in the hearth at the center of the hall. The king leaned back, bringing the mead to his mouth as he watched his sons and nephews carry on. Their wives and daughters mostly ducked out of the way of the flying insults and bits of carcass. It had been a hard season, and everybody needed to let off a little steam. The only thing missing was music. When the guard thumped the end of his spear on the floor three times, the king looked up to see if maybe that problem was solved. "My lord, a musician wishes to entertain your evening!" "Show them in, and let their music be judged." As the door was opened, the king could see the heads of the previous failures where he'd stuck them on the fence outside of the hall. The figure entering the hall now did not seem shaken by the sight. Indeed, under the furs and leathers, it was difficult to make out anything at all about the newcomer. The ruckus around the hall died down as attention was given to what would either be a worthy addition to the night's proceedings or another demonstration of the king's strength. Before the king could ask the bard their name, they were removing their gloves and cloak. As the cloak fell away, they pulled a stringed instrument from their back, and began to strum. The king was about to call for the bard to stop and indentify themselves, and then the tune reached his ears, and he found himself leaning back. The melody reminded him of a happier time, a simpler time, before all of the bloodshed and conquest, when his life was his first wife and his child, the little cottage on a simple plot of farm land. He took another long drink of mead. He was not certain where he knew this song from, but the bard played with adeptness and feeling that was moving some of the lords and ladies to tears. The king almost didn't notice one of his nephews approaching from the right. The bard, apparently, saw it first and stopped playing long enough to produce a dagger from behind their instrument. Just as the last chord of the song was played, the bard shoot to their feet and threw the dagger. The nephew had been drawing his sword, ready to strike the king. As the king turned and stood, his own hand reaching for the blade of his kingdom, the would-be assassin was choking on his own blood. The king turned back to the bard. In the commotion, the bard's hood had fallen back. Long red hair, the same color as the king's flowed down her shoulders. She looked at the king with flashing blue eyes. The king stepped back; they were the same eyes that looked at him when the old king's men had rode onto his land and taken everything from him, the same eyes of the wife who'd spirited their daughter away, before the old king had found her and used her. "Forgive me for being away so long, Father," said the bard. She pulled her cloak off entirely, and stood before them all in the clothes of wanderer, boots and trousers and vest of leather, more confident and beautiful than any other in the hall. "Now that you have heard my song, am I worthy to remain in your hall?"

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Writer Report: Supernatural Inspiration

Writer Report: Supernatural Inspiration — Blue Ink Alchemy

Cold Streets is closer than ever to the end of the first draft. I have a few changes I think I'll be making before test readers are contacted, so I guess they'll be seeing a second draft, or perhaps draft 1.5 - either way, I'm on the cusp of switching gears between writing and editing, which is an exciting and terrifying time in the life of any project. The bulk of my free time lately has been consumed with getting caught up on Supernatural. We're up the fifth season as of today. Serial storytelling is interesting to me, as the longer a series goes on, the more danger it is in of rattling on its rails, if not jumping off completely. Thus far, this show seems to keep its focus on its interesting and very human characters while raising the stakes for the protagonists. It would be very easy to make the show all about the threat or the creatures or the special effects, but for the moment, the emphasis is on the people we've been with along the way, which to me is a good sign for things to come. Some have said that later seasons do rattle along the rails, so we'll see how it goes. I'm hoping to get more done in Cold Streets over the weekend, considering it's a holiday and it's a good time to be writing. Then again, any time is a good time to be writing. Unless you're driving or something.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

How Independence Day Happened

How Independence Day Happened — Blue Ink Alchemy

Rather than do my usual thing of reposting my blog post from 4th of July last year, I'm going to share with you John Green's special on how this day, in which a bunch of colonial land-owners signed a document that basically flipped off their imperial homeland, became a national holiday. Next year I may do something entirely new! We shall see. [tube]iIoYdC1Gkq8[/tube]

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Movie Review: Hellboy - Blood & Iron

Movie Review: Hellboy - Blood & Iron — Blue Ink Alchemy

I'm not sure what it is about tales of the occult and the supernatural that fascinate me so deeply. It could be the notion that the things that go bump in the night are more than just settling houses and gusts of wind; that right in front of us, just out of sight and barely beyond our reach, is a world full of wonders, horrors, secrets, and history both enlightening and terrifying to behold. What's especially interesting are those who choose to, as some would say, "bump back". Characters like Abraham Van Helsing, the Ghostbusters, Sam & Dean Winchester, and a demon child raised by American soldiers and scientists in the 40s who goes by the name Hellboy. Mike Mignoal's creation has been in two feature films after many graphic novel appearances, and he's also been animated. Available on Netflix, Hellboy: Blood and Iron is one of those animated adventures. Hellboy was summoned by the Nazis to win World War 2. Instead, he was found by Professor Trevor Bruttenholm and raised normally, or as normal as a boy can be when he's red-skinned, bears a tail, and has a right hand that's made of stone. Bruttenholm and others gathered around the boy, and formed the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense, or BPRD. Today, the BPRD is a subsidiary of the government, and one of its government friends wants the BPRD to check out a supposedly haunted house. Despite the assignment apparently being a publicity stunt, Professor Bruttenholm convinces Hellboy and his friends Abe Sapien and Liz Sherman to accompany him to the house, saying nothing of his memories of a vampire hunt from his youth. The style of the characters and their surroundings are most definitely inspired by Mignola's dark graphic novels. Shadows are long, darkness is deep, and moments of horror are surprisingly chilling at times. That said, some of the animation feels a little choppy, even in comparison to some television series. The occasional dip in quality can strain the immersion of the audience, but it's never enough to fully break it. Some of this can be chalked up to stylistic choices, and the overall quality of the presentation doesn't suffer, but it's enough to warrant a mention. Those more interested in the art composition than the story or characters may find it hard to ignore.
Even vampires need a spa day. However, I think most people interested in Hellboy: Blood & Iron would not be checking it out for its artwork. The appeal of Hellboy tales, regardless of their venue, lies in the characters. Hellboy himself has a down-to-earth attitude and general sense of snarky self-awareness that makes him very endearing and defies his demonic appearance. Abe works as an intellectual foil to "Big Red"'s more straightforward "punch it until it behaves" mentality, Liz Sherman has a good relationship with the big guy, and for all of his strength and devil-may-care attitude, Hellboy pretty much dotes on Professor Broom. The fact that their film cast counterparts appear as voices is a huge help, as well: It's hard to imagine Hellboy at this point being portrayed by anybody but Ron Perlman. The other major pillar holding up this and many other tales of Hellboy is the storytelling. The tale is well-paced, operates several facets at once, and does not short-change any of its characters. Even minor roles are shaded to provide depth and nuance, the myths have a good feeling of authenticity, and the nature of the threat feels appropriate given the protagonists involved. I do want to avoid spoilers, but suffice it to say that whole the characters are the focus of the story, the story itself is still interesting enough to justify the film's running time.
They're here to help. Believe it or else. Stuff I Liked: I'm a sucker for myths of the old world, incarnations of old gods, and protagonists willing to punch both of them in the face. The diversity of the BPRD crew is appealing in and of itself. The multi-faceted nature of the threat is interesting, as wel. Stuff I Didn't Like: The artist kept adding what felt like an extra line to the noses of some characters. It was more an odd annoyance than anything else. Some of the animation felt a bit choppy. Stuff I Loved: A fantastic cast of interesting characters voiced by talented people with good chemistry. That should sell it in and of itself, if you ask me. Bottom Line: Hellboy: Blood & Iron is a story worthy of its predecessors. Its run time may be short, at just over an hour, but its packed with good character moments, a balanced mix of action and terror, and more than its share of humor. I would definitely recommend it.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Characters vs. Icons

Characters vs. Icons — Blue Ink Alchemy

There's another Marvel movie due out before the end of the summer. I'm cautiously optimistic about The Wolverine. Many (some might say all) of Logan's most interesting stories come from his time in Japan, a time that has not happened in the films until now. I can understand why some might be trepidatious given the abyssmal misfire that was X-Men: Origins - Wolverine. But I keep coming back to Marvel's track record, and the overall good quality of their recent films, and the more I see of the new film, the more I think they're keeping with the mentality of better titles such as The Avengers and Iron Man 3. The key, I think, is the focus on characters, rather than events. I've said in the past that Marvel's heroes are characters, while DC's heroes are icons. Other examples of the difference exist, but this one comes to mind most easily. Icons are mythological creatures, as much as gorgons and pegasi and kraken are, fulfilling their roles in epic tales and illustrating ideals to whatever audience happens to be handy. The tradition of using such constructs as a vehicle to move a story from beginning to middle to end is ancient and, for the most part, respectable, even if it is a bit simplistic at times. It's entirely possible to make your tale with icons. I've watched the Justice League animated series in both of its incarnations, and they were enjoyable, for the most part. But even as I watched Batman being generally awesome, Superman act upstanding and unstoppable, and applauded the valiant efforts to characterize and flesh out so-called second stringers like Hawkgirl and Green Arrow, I was bothered in that I was never really surprised by any character turns or plot points. It always felt like the characters were reacting to the plots involved and moving forward at the pace of the storyline rather than taking much time to be their own people. While a good story can still be told in this way, I find a lot more investment, enjoyment, and fulfillment comes from a tale that studies its characters rather than its outline. Take the television show Supernatural. The original plan was to create a "monster of the week" series involving all sorts of creatures born from folklore, myth, legend, and nightmares. But the creators quickly realized they had a much better resource for storytelling in the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester. Between the natural chemistry and charisma of the leads, the depth of the issues in the characters' psyches and histories, and their connections to the world in which they operate, many more interesting developments have occurred over the course of eight seasons that might have been possible with the otherwise simplistic original intent of the series. Creatures like ghosts, vampires, and demons are, after all, iconic. Breaking them free of their iconic or stereotypical natures can be difficult. Even so, I doubt that the show would still be going if it focused on the iconic creatures and not the interesting, flawed, fascinating, hysterical, and very human characters at the center of it. Do you prefer characters, or icons? Can a story function well with both? What examples do you reach for of either? Or both?

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Flash Fiction: Fenris and the Pilot

Flash Fiction: Fenris and the Pilot — Blue Ink Alchemy

Art courtesy Valkyrie Power This week's Flash has a two-fold purpose: to meet the weekly challenge over at Terribleminds (Down the TV Tropes Rabbit Hole, my random trope was "Amusing Alien") and to provide some hot robot action for my friends at Geekadelphia.

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From the moment they got the distress signal, Jack knew the mission would be a tough one. While their ship was fast, and difficult to detect at range, they'd be detected once they made orbit, especially once he and Fenris began their drop. Still, it was better for everyone if he hit the atmosphere without engaging his engines, lest the seperate heat bloom catch the eye of SAD batteries on the ground. "Oh, I hate dead drops like this!" He looked down at Fenris, who clung to his leg. Fenris was about three feet long from snout to tail, a wolf in miniature size, though the shape-shifting alien had often taken other forms. He still wasn't sure why the creature tagged along with them. It was good to have a companion when he was sent into hot zones like this, but it wasn't the kind of thing he'd admit to the rest of the crew. "Just hold on. We're almost out of the kill zone." The radar system cleared moments later, and he got his bearings on the refugee convoy. He needed to make sure the armored infantry didn't wipe out the civilians before they reached their ships, and then, provided he survived, he'd have to take out the local SAD battery, or at least blind their sensors, in order to help them escape. It was a tall order, and he was just one guy. He was one guy in a super-advanced multi-theater fighting machine, but he was one guy nonetheless. The advantage of doing a dead drop into a fast approach was that he barely registered on ground-side sensors. And if he did, the interceptor mode of the Thundercracker had a very low profile. Most mech units had to be delivered in fat, heavy drop pods that were easy pickings for active SAD batteries, which is why the big militaries of the great powers liked to open hostilities with orbital bombardment. But the Aether Rogues were a more surgical, subtle bunch, at least to hear Captain Boros talk of it. "Here we go, Fenris. You ready?" "Most definitely, boss. Radio silence, right?" "Right. The Alliance and the Confederation are both on the lookout for us, so we don't want them to know we've been here." "Means the locals won't know who to thank, either." "We don't do this for the thanks, Fenris." "No, we do it for profit! Money! Cash prizes! At least a free meal! What's our prize for doing this charity work?" "A warm fuzzy feeling?" "I'm already warm and fuzzy. Why do you think I keep this form so much?" Jack veered the Thundercracker over the combat zone, ready to make his final approach. "You're the crew mascot. You don't get a say." "Well, I should! I provide a valuable service to the crew!" "Oh yeah? What's that?" "I boost morale and you know it." "That's questionable. Now, hang on." He make the sharp, bootlegger turn back towards the convoy, and saw the hulking pacification mechs of the Confederate occupation forces lumbering towards the trucks and transports. They were armed mostly with howitzers and close-quarter autocannons, as they were made more for urban civilian control than open warfare. Their size and slow movement gave Jack the advantage. He hoped it'd be enough to offset the general lack of armor inherent with his variable mech. He slammed down on the airbrakes and pulled the lever to trigger the transformation. The main thrusters pivoted downwards as armor plates slid into place, and the ramjet intakes rotated into position just above them. Weapons rearranged to a more forward position, to be mounted on shoulders or held in articulated armored hands, and the cockpit's nosecone flipped down to tuck under the cabin. The sensor cluster emerged from between the missile pod shoulders, and high-gain cameras snapped on behind red protective lenses. Suddenly, the pacification mechs found a combat mech of unknown design between them and the convoy. "How many of them are pissing themselves?" Fenris had clambered up onto Jack's shoulder to get a better view of the scene through the mech's HUD. "At least two. Let's spook the rest of them." He fired an arm-mounted particle beam at the nearest mech. His aim was good, and he burned a hole through its neck plate and severed the connection between its cockpit and main sensors. He heard the hissing of the heat sinks along his mech's arm. In space, heat was less of a problem, save for making yourself a bigger target at range, but planetside it could cripple you to go too hard on your weapons. Jack made himself wait at least three seconds before firing again. In those seconds, five of the howitzers facing him flashed. He dodged to the right, feeling trees collapsing under the mech as the roadway was blown to pieces. Even though his vision was obscured, he still had a lock on the mechs thanks to his previous view and his uplink to the Aethernaut. He triggered his missile pods and fired half of his payload. As the ground shook from multiple impacts, he carefully got the mech back on its feet. "Fenris, you okay?" "We seriously do not get paid enough for this, Jack." "You're the one who begged me to come along!" "I figured there'd be some lovely refugee daughters who like puppies!" "You're incorrigible." Jack reacquired his targets. To his dismay, none of them had gone down yet. He took the Thundercracker's main weapon in both hands, raised it to the mech's shoulder, and took aim. It slid open length-wise and the magnets crackled to life. Before any of the pacification mechs could respond, Jack fired. A ferrous slug the size of a domestic landskimmer launched from the railgun, broke the sound barrier twice, and was barely slowed by the mech in Jack's sights. It had torn a massive hole in the machine, just below the cockpit in the chest, and the big mech toppled. "Okay, Fenris. Which one is next?"

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Blue Ink Alchemy