Game Review: System Shock 2

Game Review: System Shock 2 — Blue Ink Alchemy

Some may consider it a bit of a cheat for me to go over a game I've discussed previously. However, a discussion of body horror in video games as part of a Halloween theme is not the same as a full-blown review. And since this game is now available on Steam, I figured now would be a good time to give it the full treatment. Let's get right into it. The Tri-Optimum Corporation, late of the original System Shock, has backed the world's first faster-than-light drive, installed on the science vessel Von Braun. Tethered to the military cruiser Rickenbacher, this historic trip takes the crew of scientists and pioneers to the distant system of Tau Ceti V. When your character awakens, it's clear that the trip has not gone very well. The Von Braun has holes in it, the AI has gone a little nutty, and the crew? Well... most of them ask you to kill them as they slam your face with a length of pipe. Like the original System Shock, the setting pits the player, effectively alone, against sci-fi corridors full of active threats. However, it quickly becomes apparent that there are more layers to this game, and I'm not just talking about the multiple decks of the Von Braun. While the malevolent AI SHODAN was the sole antagonist of the first game, it doesn't take long for a voice other than the Von Braun's computer XERXES begins to taunt the player. The game is full of reveals and changes in plot and setting that are well-paced, thanks to the layout of the starships and the ways in which the player upgrades their character.
They tell you to run. They beg you to kill them. They're very effective creatures, and they're just the beginning. This is a true RPG with shooter mechanics, as opposed to shooters with RPG elements like BioShock or Deus Ex: Human Revolution. This isn't to take anything away from either of those games, as they're both excellent. However, the focus of more modern games is on the shooting as opposed to character construction. System Shock 2's melee has the Half-Life feel in that you can just slam the attack button until whatever is in front of you crumbles. Shooting is better, but since ammunition is very scarce, you may not be doing it as much as you do in other games. You need to rely on other skills, like hacking, weapon maintenance, and possibly psionic powers in order to not end up like those poor hybrids. In addition to its well-balanced and thought-provoking character system, System Shock 2 conveys atmosphere extremely well. Sound design especially stands out, from the pained groans of the hybrids to the skittering noise of the arachnids to the chittering of the creepy worms. In terms of overall creepiness, the cake is probably taken by the cyborg midwifes, while the ramblers really shocked me into nearly crapping my pants with their speed and desire to swallow my face in those really disgusting tooth-ringed maws of theirs. Yeesh. You see one of those lumpy sons of bitches, you're gonna have a bad time.
... Yeah. This game is creepy. The dated nature of the graphics can undercut the tension somewhat, but there are plenty of mods out there to help with that aspect. The nature of the engine can also get in the way of your enjoyment. I've heard of people getting frustrated when they spent all of the cyber modules on their Endurance and Heavy Weapons stats only to realize they needed something else entirely to finish the game. As much as the game does not railroad you into certain builds, and allows you to construct your character any way you like, there are "optimal" builds that will make the game less challenging. It's not exactly a drawback for me, but I know it may turn others away, and therefore bears mentioning. Stuff I Liked: The atmosphere of the game is super creepy and the level design is very well done. The setting has plenty of depth and background. The ability to switch around your ammo as the situation demands is a neat idea. Stuff I Didn't Like: Most of my complaints can be chalked up to the age of the game. As solid as it is, it's not as smooth as some modern titles. But they're all minor quibbles. Stuff I Loved: The Polito thing and everything after, full stop. The necessity of managing both inventory and stats and nanites (cash) give it an entire layer of challenge that has nothing do with combat.I also loved the open-endedness of the game's RPG system, and the replayability promised by the idea of different builds. I hear Psi-heavy builds are fun and I'm curious to try one out. Bottom Line: Like the original Deus Ex, System Shock 2 has appeal beyond nostalgia. The systems of the game are rock-solid despite the passage of time, and it still is both enjoyable and challenging to play. The story feels decent in its construction and the layout of the levels means things are well-paced. Regardless of whether you're new to the idea of sci-fi RPG shooters or you have fond memories of games like this, System Shock 2 now being available on Steam means you have no excuse not to play it. So go do that.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Write Whenever, Right Now

Write Whenever, Right Now — Blue Ink Alchemy

Writing, as a creative endeavor, has a lot of advantages. You don't need special equipment to write - at the bare minimum you just need something to write with, and something to write on. You can write about literally anything you want - fiction or non-fiction, on any subject or in any style, you can even write about writing itself! And you can write just about any time you like. This is, however, the biggest potential problem writers might encounter. Delayed writing is writing that suffers. It's better to write right now. Chuck recommends writing in the morning. In fact, he recommends a lot of things that writers should pay attention to. But one point he hammers home like ten-penny nails your skull didn't know it needs is Writers must be writing. And the sooner you write, the better. Unless you completely shun human contact and seal yourself into some kind of bubble, things are going to come to your attention that interrupt your writing time. Spouse. Children. Chores. Tumblr. Any number of items that you are compelled to contend with vie for your attention, and you will not always be able or willing to resist their call. And you know what? That's okay. What matters is, you learn what works and what doesn't, and you refine what works until you're pounding out the words as immediately and completely as possible. If you need to get up earlier in the morning, do that. Gotta rearrange your schedule? Do that too. Discuss new divisions of chores with the other humans you live with (if you live with any). Stock up on things that motivate and energize you - coffee, Clif bars, Oreos, booze, whatever. Make yourself a plan to write more, and do everything you can to stick to it. Because, let's face it - we're at war. Time wages a ceaseless battle against us. Every day you're vertical is an act of defiance in the face of inevitability, even moreso if you write. Which means, to me, that every day you don't write is losing ground to the enemy. You can fight to get that ground back, but it feels like running uphill. It's more trouble than it should be. You do much better if you simply write right now. So stop reading blogs on the Internet, and go do that.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Flash Fiction: One Dart

Flash Fiction: One Dart — Blue Ink Alchemy

Art courtesy zombie2012 For the Flash Fiction challenge Smashing Sub-Genres, the die of destiny chose Post-Apocalyptic and Steampunk.

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Gideon's stomach was telling him it was time to eat. The heat on his skin indicated it was late afternoon. The watch on his wrist had stopped ticking years before. He wiped his hands on his trousers as he had a hundred times before that day, picked the axe back up and took a few more swings at the tree's robust trunk. He rubbed his brow on the handkerchief wrapped around his left wrist, noting that past his sweat, it still smelled like her prefume. Scents like that were becoming more and more rare, and he cherished the fact she'd given this gift to him. He didn't want to linger, however; the idea was to do what he needed to do and get out as quickly and quietly as possible. Gideon slammed the axe into the tree once more and heard the trunk finally succumb. He hefted his weapon and stepped to one side, watching the tree come down. Past the falling branches, he could see what was left of the steel and concrete towers, vines and foliage of all kinds creeping up their sides, blocking windows, cracking brickwork, obscuring the achievements of man. As soon as the tree was down, he put his philosophical thoughts aside and set about breaking the tree up into logs, kindling from branches, and what seeds and flowers he could gather. He already had a few piles around him, and he consolidated as expediently as he could. Once he felt everything was in order, he went to his pack and pulled out the flare gun. He loaded one of the blue shells, pointed it towards the sky, and pulled the trigger. The flare soared up above the tops of the abandoned buildings before it detonated, simultaneously releasing a bright burst of light and a distinctive, hypersonic sound. It would be picked up by the Elpis, but it also had a chance to attract the wildlife. Sure enough, a growl emerged from the bushes nearby. Gideon slipped the cover over the head of his axe, slid it through the loops of his pack, and drew the tranquilizer gun from his hip. He only carried half a dozen darts, and as he loaded one and primed the mechanism to launch it, his eyes scanned the bushes. The source of the growl slowly emerged: a large dog, perhaps two feet at the shoulder, with a broad body and a stout build. In years gone by, it might have seen Gideon as a potential owner, or a playmate. In this world crafted by the folly of old dead leaders, the dog only saw him as a meal. Gideon did not make any sudden moves. The dog's teeth were bared, bits of froth at the sides of its mouth. Gideon had been around long enough and met a few dogs to know that such behavior wasn't indicative of a rabid dog, just a hungry one. He wasn't sure if the dog was alone, or part of a pack or family, and didn't want to put it out prematurely. The Elpis was supposedly on-station ten minutes away, on top of one of the buildings. "West, you better have been at your post, or I swear..." At the sound of Gideon's voice, the dog lowered its posture and growled again. Gideon silently cursed himself for letting the tension get to him. With so many predators growing and thriving in the decades since The Last War, any places outside of Avalon held the potential for death if one so much as breathed too heavily or disturbed the wrong bush. This was no longer a world for humans, and it was only through wits and devices like the tranquilizer gun in Gideon's hands that men and women survived. The hound and the man stood staring at one another for a long moment. The rest of the overgrowth and the buildings beyond had fallen completely silent. Even the wind was still. Gideon thought, for a moment, that the dog might back off. Without warning, it left the ground, leaping towards him, jaws opening as it aimed for his throat. Gideon's arms came up on instinct, pulling the trigger on the tranquilizer gun. The dart struck the dog at the base of its neck, the pneumatic force from the releasing tension of its gears knocking it off course and the anesthetic quickly taking hold. Gideon exhaled and reloaded, feeling sweat beading on his brow. The dog tried to get to its feet, still glaring at Gideon even as its paws kept slipping out from under it. As it began to pass out, more dogs emerged from the bushes, all growling at Gideon. He primed the tranquilizer again, but knew he wouldn't have enough time to take down more than one. His gun only held one dart at a time. A great wind and loud noise slammed down on the clearing, scattering the dogs. Gideon looked up to see the Elpis descending towards him. The airship's cargo bay doors swung open, and West, lanky and waving, lowered the first of the cables down. Gideon quickly bound up his gains and began tying them to the cables that came to him, riding the last back up into the ship. "Run into some trouble?" West's grin was all teeth. "A couple dogs. Nothing major." West began taking a tally, tapping a pencil against his chin. "Not bad, not bad at all. A few furnaces will be very happy with these, and Avalon could use the new trees. Captain Olsen's going to love this." "She could use the break. She had to fight hard to get us out this far." "At least you can relax, my friend! Your part in this is over." Gideon nodded, but as he walked up from the cargo bay to the gunnery deck, he saw men and women checking and re-checking the machine guns and the main howitzer of the airship, whispers of pirates and scavengers abounding. He sighed. His hunger would have to wait.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Flash Fiction: One Dart

Flash Fiction: One Dart — Blue Ink Alchemy

Art courtesy zombie2012 For the Flash Fiction challenge Smashing Sub-Genres, the die of destiny chose Post-Apocalyptic and Stea Gideon's stomach was telling him it was time to eat. The heat on his skin indicated it was late afternoon. The watch on his wrist had stopped ticking years before. He wiped his hands on his trousers as he had a hundred times before that day, picked the axe back up and took a few more swings at the tree's robust trunk. He rubbed his brow on the handkerchief wrapped around his left wrist, noting that past his sweat, it still smelled like her prefume. Scents like that were becoming more and more rare, and he cherished the fact she'd given this gift to him. He didn't want to linger, however; the idea was to do what he needed to do and get out as quickly and quietly as possible. Gideon slammed the axe into the tree once more and heard the trunk finally succumb. He hefted his weapon and stepped to one side, watching the tree come down. Past the falling branches, he could see what was left of the steel and concrete towers, vines and foliage of all kinds creeping up their sides, blocking windows, cracking brickwork, obscuring the achievements of man. As soon as the tree was down, he put his philosophical thoughts aside and set about breaking the tree up into logs, kindling from branches, and what seeds and flowers he could gather. He already had a few piles around him, and he consolidated as expediently as he could. Once he felt everything was in order, he went to his pack and pulled out the flare gun. He loaded one of the blue shells, pointed it towards the sky, and pulled the trigger. The flare soared up above the tops of the abandoned buildings before it detonated, simultaneously releasing a bright burst of light and a distinctive, hypersonic sound. It would be picked up by the Elpis, but it also had a chance to attract the wildlife. Sure enough, a growl emerged from the bushes nearby. Gideon slipped the cover over the head of his axe, slid it through the loops of his pack, and drew the tranquilizer gun from his hip. He only carried half a dozen darts, and as he loaded one and primed the mechanism to launch it, his eyes scanned the bushes. The source of the growl slowly emerged: a large dog, perhaps two feet at the shoulder, with a broad body and a stout build. In years gone by, it might have seen Gideon as a potential owner, or a playmate. In this world crafted by the folly of old dead leaders, the dog only saw him as a meal. Gideon did not make any sudden moves. The dog's teeth were bared, bits of froth at the sides of its mouth. Gideon had been around long enough and met a few dogs to know that such behavior wasn't indicative of a rabid dog, just a hungry one. He wasn't sure if the dog was alone, or part of a pack or family, and didn't want to put it out prematurely. The Elpis was supposedly on-station ten minutes away, on top of one of the buildings. "West, you better have been at your post, or I swear..." At the sound of Gideon's voice, the dog lowered its posture and growled again. Gideon silently cursed himself for letting the tension get to him. With so many predators growing and thriving in the decades since The Last War, any places outside of Avalon held the potential for death if one so much as breathed too heavily or disturbed the wrong bush. This was no longer a world for humans, and it was only through wits and devices like the tranquilizer gun in Gideon's hands that men and women survived. The hound and the man stood staring at one another for a long moment. The rest of the overgrowth and the buildings beyond had fallen completely silent. Even the wind was still. Gideon thought, for a moment, that the dog might back off. Without warning, it left the ground, leaping towards him, jaws opening as it aimed for his throat. Gideon's arms came up on instinct, pulling the trigger on the tranquilizer gun. The dart struck the dog at the base of its neck, the pneumatic force from the releasing tension of its gears knocking it off course and the anesthetic quickly taking hold. Gideon exhaled and reloaded, feeling sweat beading on his brow. The dog tried to get to its feet, still glaring at Gideon even as its paws kept slipping out from under it. As it began to pass out, more dogs emerged from the bushes, all growling at Gideon. He primed the tranquilizer again, but knew he wouldn't have enough time to take down more than one. His gun only held one dart at a time. A great wind and loud noise slammed down on the clearing, scattering the dogs. Gideon looked up to see the Elpis descending towards him. The airship's cargo bay doors swung open, and West, lanky and waving, lowered the first of the cables down. Gideon quickly bound up his gains and began tying them to the cables that came to him, riding the last back up into the ship. "Run into some trouble?" West's grin was all teeth. "A couple dogs. Nothing major." West began taking a tally, tapping a pencil against his chin. "Not bad, not bad at all. A few furnaces will be very happy with these, and Avalon could use the new trees. Captain Olsen's going to love this." "She could use the break. She had to fight hard to get us out this far." "At least you can relax, my friend! Your part in this is over." Gideon nodded, but as he walked up from the cargo bay to the gunnery deck, he saw men and women checking and re-checking the machine guns and the main howitzer of the airship, whispers of pirates and scavengers abounding. He sighed. His hunger would have to wait.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Writer Report: Let's Get Personal

Writer Report: Let's Get Personal — Blue Ink Alchemy

Before you read the following, if you haven't already, you should read this, the return of Hyperbole and a Half and her description of the last eighteen months or so of her life. I know this may seem a bit like I'm riding on her coattails, but after I carefully read her post, I found myself ruminating a great deal on my own feelings, facing some personal demons, and in no real mood to discuss supernatural detective yarns or floating cities or star-spanning empires. I know I need to talk about these things, and I want to do so in a way that doesn't come off as whining or seeking attention or making myself out to be a victim or a martyr. In fact, that's why I rarely talk about these things at all, out loud, with people near me: a few words in and the eye-rolling will start. And I wouldn't blame them. My sister had a saying: "Suck it up, and deal with it." Some days I'm better at that than others. What really got to me about the aforementioned post was her description of the empty wasteland. It's the one an individual drags themselves through day after day when depression is the only emotional sustenance on the menu; it's a drab, flavorless, foully-textured gruel that takes the place of more tangible, weighty, and intricate emotions. And as true as it is that it gets better, it's just as true that the wasteland never really goes away. All you can really do is build a sturdier wall around yourself, shore up the doors, and pray you don't wander out into it again. That's really the only way I can describe it. Lately I've felt I've been walking the walls of my psyche, looking out into that wasteland, knowing I'm just a step or two away from falling into it. There are times when this realization makes me downright livid - like, how dare I even consider feeling depressed or succumbing to pressure - and I do my utmost to kick my own ass into not being such a downer. At times this puts me into a more manic state of mind, and I try to do more or spend more or what have you. I'm much more fun for other people to be around when I'm not thinking about how much everything sucks, after all. But that's the thing about mood swings. Your mood will always swing back. If you've ever encountered a tetherball in your life, it's kind of like that. It swings in one direction, and while you can definitely punch it to go in the other direction, if you aren't careful it'll just swing back around to smack you in the face. I thank my lucky stars that this has only been a daily occurrence of late (if that), and not an hourly one. I was weaned off of medication some time ago. I even was told by my therapist that, mindful as I've become, I don't need to see her on a regular basis. And it's true, I no longer have borderline anxiety attacks or suffer from hallucinations or any of the other hallmarks that, several years ago, caused some people close to me to help me seek the care of a mental ward. But I know the wasteland is still there. It's waiting for me. And every time I see or hear or experience something that feels or sounds offhandedly cruel or wantonly destructive or callously indifferent, I feel its gravity and I actively resist. Because I am not going back to that place again, not without a fight. There are days where it's a struggle simply to remain positive. I remind myself that I still have a lot of future ahead of me, and it can be full of better things, and that change is difficult and takes sacrifice and I just have to be honest and work hard to get where I want to be. I'm doing my best to correct my mistakes, improve who I am, and not hurt anybody else in the process. I try to be mindful, respectful, courteous, and kind, and put the needs of others before my own if I can help it. But I can't always do that. I'm going to choose me over them now and again. I'm going to make selfish decisions. And I'm going to fuck up. I'm a human being. It's going to happen. I just don't want to be one of those sources of cruelty or destruction or indifference, towards myself or anybody else. That's easy stuff. The hard thing is not giving in to cynicism and doubt and ennui. The hard thing is picking yourself up and continuing to follow that dream. A limp is better than no movement at all. I've probably rambled too much. And I'm saying all of this on a Friday. Hopefully, your weekend is a good one. And if you want to talk about anything like this, my metaphorical door is always open.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Let's Discuss The Mandarin

Let's Discuss The Mandarin — Blue Ink Alchemy

It should go without saying that the following contains SERIOUS SPOILERS for Iron Man 3. Fairly be ye warned. I'll put it under the appropriate tags anyway, but I thought I'd remind you. I'll also remind you that I'm something of a Johnny-come-lately when it comes to my status as a fan of Iron Man, which may color my perceptions somewhat. Still with me? Then read on. In the lead-up to Iron Man 3, it was revealed that Sir Ben Kingsley would be billed as The Mandarin, who is perhaps Iron Man's most iconic foe. A holdover from the days of Cold War paranoia of everything communist, the Mandarin was the personification of Western fears of Chinese aggression - cunning, ruthless, steeped in Chinese iconography, and possessing powers of an alien nature. Detractors of the character have pointed out that, for the most part, the Mandarin's something of a racist caricature, but with the casting of Kingsley, these detractors were silenced under the torrent of fanboy excitement at this classic character brought to life in a modern telling of Tony Stark's ongoing story. And then they saw the movie... [spoiler] ...and the Mandarin they were promised turns out to be a red herring. Aldrich Killian, Guy Pearce's mad genius Extremis creator, used the Mandarin as a proxy face for the "bombings" caused by his experimental soldiers going haywire. He created the character of the Mandarin as an amalgamation of the 21st century fears of terrorism and anarchy, found a washed-up stage actor to play him, and began a media blitz to deflect any possible attention that might come his way. It is, upon reflection, an ingenious plan. It is also perhaps the most divisive thing to be done in a comic book movie to date. Comic book fans can be some of the most devoted people on the planet. The word "fan" after all derives from "fanatic", and if any group could be described as fanatical in their devotion to a fictional property, it's the devotees of comic book lore. Shane Black yanks the rug out from under them, and some of them are very upset about it. There are no alien rings of power, no grand maniacal scheme worthy of Ming the Merciless, no throwdown mano-a-mano between Stark and this iteration of the Mandarin; there's the reveal, a total transformation in Kingsley's performance, and the realization that Killian's been the mastermind all along. For my part? I love it. Not only is it a bold move on Black's part in the face of the fandom, it shows rather than tells us about Killian's intellect and ability to plan ahead. It elegantly solves the problem of taking what could be a rather offensive character to some and putting it on a movie screen. It allows Sir Ben Kingsley to show off a bit in his acting both as the malevolent terrorist and the Z-list actor. And it demonstrates that the people behind these adaptations are not afraid to make radical changes if it means good storytelling. That's what I think ruffles my feathers about the dust-up. As I said, I'm something of a newcomer to Iron Man's fanbase, but I can understand how attached people become to iconic characters from the past. Hell, part of the reason I bristled at The Amazing Spider-Man is that Andrew Garfield didn't quite have the aw-shucks boy-next-door charm Tobey Maquire had, at least in the first Sam Raimi movie. A lot of people still can't get over how Bane was portrayed in The Dark Knight Rises. I may never forgive Bret Ratner for what he did to the X-Men. So on and so forth. In the case of Bane, however, and now the Mandarin, the changes that were made were overall a good move. It made for a better story. It got people talking. It made sense both within its own universe and as a narrative decision. And, at the end of the day, more people paid to be entertained by this tale of a rich mechanical genius going up against genetically modified fire-breathing human bombs. For my part, I think the movie works. I think this change works. And I would happily see Iron Man 3 again. [/spoiler]

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Movie Review: Iron Man 3

Movie Review: Iron Man 3 — Blue Ink Alchemy

It would be hard for even the detractors of comic book geekdom to look at The Avengers and not consider it a success story. Years of planning and careful construction of disparate narratives culimated in a single cinematic experience that, to this day, nerds like me have yet to tire of watching. The whole shebang kicked off with Iron Man, which remains the only Marvel movie franchise to have sequels attached to it. The first was the ambitious but somewhat ambling Iron Man 2, and the second opens this year's blockbuster season, and it's called Iron Man 3. Right from the start, it's clear that the events of The Avengers have had a lasting impact on Tony Stark, our favorite genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. Not only did he survive fighting alongside gods and super-soldiers, he carried a nuclear missile through a wormhole to annihilate an entire army, if not a civilization. Lacking sleep and suffering anxiety attacks, Tony throws himself into his work, building suit after suit, alienating his friends and even distancing himself from Pepper, who just moved in with him. But before he can be confronted with these issues, a bombing takes place that involves no known bombing techniques and puts his friend, Happy Hogan, in a coma. Tony immediately vows revenge and calls out the man responsible, the international terrorist known only as the Mandarin. Stark even tells the man his home address, because smart as he is, sometimes his ego gets in his way. The first two Iron Man films were directed by Jon Favreau, the second with a great deal of input (or, more accurately, interference) from Marvel Studios. This time around, the reigns were handed to Shane Black, director of what was arguably Robert Downey Jr.'s best movie before Iron Man, a little noir favorite of mine called Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. The difference shows, in that this film strikes a very different tone from the first two. It simultaneously works on darker themes and moods than the others, and has more humorous and human moments. It's the noir-flavored atmosphere and focus on character that make Iron Man 3 worth a watch from the very start.
The Mk. 43 Classy Armor includes a champagne dispenser and built-in jazz soundtrack. Either by coincidence or design, Iron Man 3 feels somewhat like The Dark Knight Rises, in Tony spends less time in his Iron Man armor than in previous tales, much like Bruce Wayne was Batman less often in his third Nolan film. We get a great deal of time with Tony Stark without his toys, taking him back to a state of working with a box of scraps to get out of his jams. Seeing him with little to rely on but his intellect felt like a return to the fundamentals of his character. At the same time, the floodgates opened by The Avengers means that more outrageous aspects born of the comic books can enter the arena. Tony's opponents are more super-powered than ever, but thankfully, they're more than just a guy wearing a suit or controlling drones similar to Stark's designs. All of the suits are on Stark's side this time; and I do mean all of them. The film isn't without its flaws. First and foremost, the ladies could have been given more to do. Rebecca Hall's character especially could have easily been fleshed out beyond establishing or developing plot points. I like what they did with Pepper Potts overall, but towards the end of the movie I felt like she could have rescued herself more. A few Shane Black quirks may play on the nerves of some audience members, from the Christmas setting to the juxtaposition of its more noir-ish elements with the comic book stuff. And then there's the stuff that will REALLY piss people off - which I will discuss in tomorrow's post.
Well-shot, earnest, and powerful scenes. A well-constructed film all around. Stuff I Liked: Who doesn't like all of the armor shenanigans? Happy's bits are worth a laugh. I like the callbacks to previous films throughout the story - it makes everything feel more connected and coherent. JARVIS continues to be great, and the kid didn't annoy me. Stuff I Didn't Like: I'm glad the film ended the way it did - Tony having all of that armor at his disposal would make future encounters way too easy. Stuff I Loved: Tony's character has grown, and it really shows in places. I love that he and Pepper still have their chemistry. The improvised fighting Tony has to do in the second act really pleased me, I'm glad Pepper got in on the action, I enjoyed every scene with Rhodey, and Ben Kingsley just killed it. Guy Pearce felt completely transformative, which was quite appropriate. Bottom Line: Between its earnest character building and the variable nature of the threat and villainy, I'm going to say I liked Iron Man 3 more than its predecessor. It's not quite as good as the first film featuring Tony Stark, but it comes close at times. I have the feeling I'm going to like it more on repeated viewings, and I definitely intend to buy this one for that purpose. It has snappy dialog, well-shot action, inventive storytelling turns, and it's full of actors I like - Iron Man 3 is a winner.

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Blue Ink Alchemy