There's a moment at the end of Ride Along 2 where Oliva Munn's character, Detective Maya Cruz, is staring at Ice Cube and Kevin Hart (as James Payton and Ben Barber, respectively) as they argue over who's going to drive the brand new sports car they just acquired. She shows an interesting procession of emotions on her face as this transpires: humor, bewilderment, concern, and then a settled-upon sense of mediocrity. That pretty much sums up my take on this film, one of some minor entertainment that is largely devoid of value.
For what it's worth, Tim Story does direct some clear looking action sequences with a solid sense of geography. That has value. Unfortunately, the rest of the film is on on-par with a mid-level, 80's to 90's era, direct-to-tv cop drama. That's a shame, considering the fact that both Ice Cube and Kevin Hart are capable of more (I mean, Ice Cube was in 21/22 Jump Street, both of which are clever riffs off of those same direct-to-tv cop dramas).
That being said, I think there are interesting things within the film. Hart's character has the arc of the baffoon who seeks to prove himself, with Cube's James Payton slowly recognizing that Barber has some value, despite his foolishness. With this is an interesting juxtaposition of Hart's somewhat non-traditional masculinity and Cube's hyper-gruff version, almost as though it's saying there's room for both. Even more, part of me wanted to see this near-savant side explored a bit more, but it's too often disregarded for more overstated gags.
It comes down to a mismanagement of resources, or at the very least it feels that way. Hart does what he often does, which is to be far too much for what's needed of him. Jokes stretch on too long and continuously depreciate in value. Those interesting thematic elements are rarely explored. Everything is mostly painted in broad brushes. All of the more intriguing elements are buried under all of this. Mediocrity, thy name is Ride Along 2.
Monday, May 30, 2016
Sunday, May 22, 2016
Video Game Review: Guacamelee
One lesson that I wish more modern video game developers would learn (especially those who design "retro" styled games) is the value of efficiency of game design. By that, I mean containing only as much as you need to get your point across as well as you can. These games tend to look back and emulate the good of what came before, while also finding elements of the present to amplify those things. A few games that come to mind that fit this description include Shovel Knight, Undertale, Random Access Memories, Wolfenstein: The New Order, and Dark Souls. To that same list, we can now add Guacamelee, and what an entry it is.
Guacamelee puts us in the shoes of a burly farmer named Juan Aguacate who grows agave in his small, Mexican village. His humble life is torn asunder with both the return, and subsequent kidnapping, of the daughter of the president by the undead charro skeleton Carlos Calaca. To make things worse, Calaca then kills Juan, which sends him to the underworld. It's there that he meets an undead, female luchador, Tostada, that gifts him with a mask that changes him into a powerful luchador and sends him back to the land of the living. This places Juan in the position of being the only person powerful enough to take on Calaca before he sacrifices the president's daughter in an ancient ritual in order to ascend to godhood.
DrinkBox Studios was gracious enough to give Juan a wide array of abilities to achieve this task, and all of them arranged around dealing out as much pain as possible to the hordes of undead minions Calaca puts in his path. Combat is most similar to what one would find in beat-em-ups like God of War, or even Double Dragon. A series of combos can be done in succession, leading to a throw that sends enemies in whichever direction you choose. These throws, a few other moves, and a variety of upgrades to Juan's stats can be purchased from the myriad checkpoints (in the shape of ofrendas, no less) dotting the world. As far as navigation is concerned, Juan can leap with the best of them, lending to comparisons to the joyful jumps of the Mario Bros. franchise.
Let's talk about the luchador-loving world of Guacamelee for a moment, shall we? DrinkBox Studios crafted a world exploding with personality that is at once gorgeous, yet adorable. There are a number of opportunities for exploration of the various jungles, temples, fishing villages, and deserts. Even more, these opportunities often reward you, resulting in next to no moments of disappointment from going off the beaten path. A big part of this world are actually the people living in it, as speaking to them can yield new opportunities for exploration and upgrades, as well as subtle ways of fleshing out background bits of the narrative.
The majority of the game is based around the Dia de Muertos, or Day of the Dead. as everything Juan does is related to it in some way. His entire quest is to keep Carlos Calaca from causing disharmony between the lands of the living and dead, and requires him to pay heed to both groups. In essence, this game makes literal the symbolism of Dia de Muertos. The player, along with Juan, goes through the act of actively working with the living and dead, sometimes going in-between the two worlds in order to bring closure to people in both.
At its core, Guacamelee is a distillation of the various cultural influences present in Mexico, whether in the ancient, Aztec-like temples that lay in the jungles (many of which contain Super Metroid-like upgrades in "Choozo" statues shaped vaguely like ancient deities), or the villages with a variety of churches, restaurants, and gyms for luchador training. Even the monsters are seemingly inspired by the art of native Mexican peoples, and not once does it seem to be mindlessly appropriating any of the iconography. In essence, it's outstandingly competent on all accounts, and that just at the least.
Guacamelee puts us in the shoes of a burly farmer named Juan Aguacate who grows agave in his small, Mexican village. His humble life is torn asunder with both the return, and subsequent kidnapping, of the daughter of the president by the undead charro skeleton Carlos Calaca. To make things worse, Calaca then kills Juan, which sends him to the underworld. It's there that he meets an undead, female luchador, Tostada, that gifts him with a mask that changes him into a powerful luchador and sends him back to the land of the living. This places Juan in the position of being the only person powerful enough to take on Calaca before he sacrifices the president's daughter in an ancient ritual in order to ascend to godhood.
DrinkBox Studios was gracious enough to give Juan a wide array of abilities to achieve this task, and all of them arranged around dealing out as much pain as possible to the hordes of undead minions Calaca puts in his path. Combat is most similar to what one would find in beat-em-ups like God of War, or even Double Dragon. A series of combos can be done in succession, leading to a throw that sends enemies in whichever direction you choose. These throws, a few other moves, and a variety of upgrades to Juan's stats can be purchased from the myriad checkpoints (in the shape of ofrendas, no less) dotting the world. As far as navigation is concerned, Juan can leap with the best of them, lending to comparisons to the joyful jumps of the Mario Bros. franchise.
Let's talk about the luchador-loving world of Guacamelee for a moment, shall we? DrinkBox Studios crafted a world exploding with personality that is at once gorgeous, yet adorable. There are a number of opportunities for exploration of the various jungles, temples, fishing villages, and deserts. Even more, these opportunities often reward you, resulting in next to no moments of disappointment from going off the beaten path. A big part of this world are actually the people living in it, as speaking to them can yield new opportunities for exploration and upgrades, as well as subtle ways of fleshing out background bits of the narrative.
The majority of the game is based around the Dia de Muertos, or Day of the Dead. as everything Juan does is related to it in some way. His entire quest is to keep Carlos Calaca from causing disharmony between the lands of the living and dead, and requires him to pay heed to both groups. In essence, this game makes literal the symbolism of Dia de Muertos. The player, along with Juan, goes through the act of actively working with the living and dead, sometimes going in-between the two worlds in order to bring closure to people in both.
At its core, Guacamelee is a distillation of the various cultural influences present in Mexico, whether in the ancient, Aztec-like temples that lay in the jungles (many of which contain Super Metroid-like upgrades in "Choozo" statues shaped vaguely like ancient deities), or the villages with a variety of churches, restaurants, and gyms for luchador training. Even the monsters are seemingly inspired by the art of native Mexican peoples, and not once does it seem to be mindlessly appropriating any of the iconography. In essence, it's outstandingly competent on all accounts, and that just at the least.
Wednesday, May 11, 2016
What's Appropriate?
As I learn more about cultural appropriation, the thing I realize is that if one is going to apply it, one should go all the way with their application. That's to say that if you are tangentially related to the people an act is being appropriated from, but aren't actually from that culture, you may be culturally appropriating their work if you do it. Here's a few thought experiments I've run on it.
So, let's take an easy scenario. Let's say there's a very specific Native American tribe that has a very specific kind of headdress for very specific purposes. Now, let's say some outside person sees this headdress, likes the aesthetics of it, then proceeds to imitate it and sell the imitations to a bunch of people. Is that cultural appropriation? I'd say so. Now, what if the person wasn't from the outside, but from that very tribe? What if this person took their very people's religious imagery and sold it to the masses? Is this cultural appropriation? Are they making many other people complicit in cultural appropriation?
This can get even more complicated. Imagine we have a person whose great-grandparents came from a very specific village from somewhere in the South Pacific. Now, this very specific village has very specific customs and dress. If this particular person, who has been 100% enveloped into the culture of the United States and had no desire to better learn about their great-grandparent's culture, were to wear around that particular culture's dress not as a nod to that culture, but just because they thought they looked good, would that be cultural appropriation? I'm thinking yes, but mainly due to the fact that the person has nothing to do with that culture, even though they are of the same ethnicity. It's that cultural specificity that makes the difference, it seems.
So, let's take this to a...controversial real-world example. Let's take twerking. It's origins as a dance are a bit uncertain. Some believe it may be derived from the Mapouka, a traditional dance from the Dabou area of the southeast region of Cote d'lvoire that originated with the Alladian, Aizi, and Avikam people. Some also call it the "dance of the behind." It's mostly performed by women who stand facing away from the audience while shaking their behinds, sometimes while bent over. It should be noted that in its origin the dance was not sexual in nature, but the newer version has drawn some controversy. It's this modern version that is most closely related to twerking, and was even rendered as lewd from some time by the Ivorian government from the 1980's up until the year 2000. Even so, this version spread throughout countries along coastal West Africa. Some other people attribute it to a dance called The Bump. This was mostly done in the 1970's, as possibly popularized by by a guy named Johnny Spruce. In this dance, the dancers would bump hips on every other beat of the music. The dance progressed over the years and people started bumping hips to butts, bumping and bending over, and so on. There's even some that suggest that the term was originated in New Orleans with the rise of bounce music. At any rate, since the 1990's, the dance found its way into hip hop, and then the world. It even entered the Oxford dictionary, which claims that the word has been around for nearly 20 years.
So, now that we have some background info out of the way, let's get to the thought experiment. We know that it's origins may most likely be African in nature, and from a very specific place there. So, if a person in the United States does this dance, having absolutely no relation to its African origins, is that cultural appropriation? Let's go a step further. If a black person who lives in the United States, who has never been to this part of Africa, does this dance is it cultural appropriation? In both cases, the cultures of the latest people dancing to it are completely removed from their original context. What if the person doing the dance is descended directly from people from that region, but never traveled there and grew up totally immersed in the culture of the United States? I'm gonna still go with yes. Again, cultural specificity matters.
What's really important to consider in all of this is the power of globalization. Ideas and customs spread so quickly thanks to the internet that it's difficult to keep practices and beliefs contained to where they originated. This ultimately creates an environment where a culture's religious clothing or traditions can be somewhat co-opted by another, more affluent, culture. The new iteration becomes completely devoid of the original's intent, thus serving as a bastardized version. The thing is, much of our culture is made of aspects and influences of other cultures. Just look at some of the words that we say, like gumbo (Bantu, Africa), bacon (Germanic), jungle (Hindi or Urdu), or julep (Arabic). Many of the words we consider as being English are from other countries and cultures. Are we all subject to appropriation? Can OUR culture be appropriated?
To be honest, I don't know the answer to that. This is, as you've seen, a pretty complicated subject. It's a discussion that's being had online more and more, so more are becoming aware of it. With that, I think it's important to consider what we do and how we do it. That being said, 50 years from now, whole cultures may be absorbed in to less homogenized societies. Given that the United States is a country of many different cultures, with states sometimes seeming like completely separate countries that interact with each other, I'd imagine that it'd be difficult to keep different cultures from mixing in. At that, I suppose the best we can do is attempt to be as respectful as we can to what people believe and practice. All the same, this is an issue that may not be leaving any time soon
So, let's take an easy scenario. Let's say there's a very specific Native American tribe that has a very specific kind of headdress for very specific purposes. Now, let's say some outside person sees this headdress, likes the aesthetics of it, then proceeds to imitate it and sell the imitations to a bunch of people. Is that cultural appropriation? I'd say so. Now, what if the person wasn't from the outside, but from that very tribe? What if this person took their very people's religious imagery and sold it to the masses? Is this cultural appropriation? Are they making many other people complicit in cultural appropriation?
This can get even more complicated. Imagine we have a person whose great-grandparents came from a very specific village from somewhere in the South Pacific. Now, this very specific village has very specific customs and dress. If this particular person, who has been 100% enveloped into the culture of the United States and had no desire to better learn about their great-grandparent's culture, were to wear around that particular culture's dress not as a nod to that culture, but just because they thought they looked good, would that be cultural appropriation? I'm thinking yes, but mainly due to the fact that the person has nothing to do with that culture, even though they are of the same ethnicity. It's that cultural specificity that makes the difference, it seems.
So, let's take this to a...controversial real-world example. Let's take twerking. It's origins as a dance are a bit uncertain. Some believe it may be derived from the Mapouka, a traditional dance from the Dabou area of the southeast region of Cote d'lvoire that originated with the Alladian, Aizi, and Avikam people. Some also call it the "dance of the behind." It's mostly performed by women who stand facing away from the audience while shaking their behinds, sometimes while bent over. It should be noted that in its origin the dance was not sexual in nature, but the newer version has drawn some controversy. It's this modern version that is most closely related to twerking, and was even rendered as lewd from some time by the Ivorian government from the 1980's up until the year 2000. Even so, this version spread throughout countries along coastal West Africa. Some other people attribute it to a dance called The Bump. This was mostly done in the 1970's, as possibly popularized by by a guy named Johnny Spruce. In this dance, the dancers would bump hips on every other beat of the music. The dance progressed over the years and people started bumping hips to butts, bumping and bending over, and so on. There's even some that suggest that the term was originated in New Orleans with the rise of bounce music. At any rate, since the 1990's, the dance found its way into hip hop, and then the world. It even entered the Oxford dictionary, which claims that the word has been around for nearly 20 years.
So, now that we have some background info out of the way, let's get to the thought experiment. We know that it's origins may most likely be African in nature, and from a very specific place there. So, if a person in the United States does this dance, having absolutely no relation to its African origins, is that cultural appropriation? Let's go a step further. If a black person who lives in the United States, who has never been to this part of Africa, does this dance is it cultural appropriation? In both cases, the cultures of the latest people dancing to it are completely removed from their original context. What if the person doing the dance is descended directly from people from that region, but never traveled there and grew up totally immersed in the culture of the United States? I'm gonna still go with yes. Again, cultural specificity matters.
What's really important to consider in all of this is the power of globalization. Ideas and customs spread so quickly thanks to the internet that it's difficult to keep practices and beliefs contained to where they originated. This ultimately creates an environment where a culture's religious clothing or traditions can be somewhat co-opted by another, more affluent, culture. The new iteration becomes completely devoid of the original's intent, thus serving as a bastardized version. The thing is, much of our culture is made of aspects and influences of other cultures. Just look at some of the words that we say, like gumbo (Bantu, Africa), bacon (Germanic), jungle (Hindi or Urdu), or julep (Arabic). Many of the words we consider as being English are from other countries and cultures. Are we all subject to appropriation? Can OUR culture be appropriated?
To be honest, I don't know the answer to that. This is, as you've seen, a pretty complicated subject. It's a discussion that's being had online more and more, so more are becoming aware of it. With that, I think it's important to consider what we do and how we do it. That being said, 50 years from now, whole cultures may be absorbed in to less homogenized societies. Given that the United States is a country of many different cultures, with states sometimes seeming like completely separate countries that interact with each other, I'd imagine that it'd be difficult to keep different cultures from mixing in. At that, I suppose the best we can do is attempt to be as respectful as we can to what people believe and practice. All the same, this is an issue that may not be leaving any time soon
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