A Civilization to Stand the Waste of Time

Semi-random unorganized observations about Civilization 5

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I’ve started two games of Civilization 5 and finished one. There are plenty of reviews already, and Giant Bomb’s review has a walk-through video of the first 45 minutes. There’s nothing much I could add to those. But I can make the hell out of a list.

One More Turn
I can tell I’m getting older, because games like this are getting less charming. There’s no getting around it: if you start a game of any version of Civilization, you’re all but guaranteed to find yourself suddenly realizing it’s three AM and you’ve just lost the better part of a day. Sometime over the last few years, that went from being an acceptable risk to being a genuine liability. And the Civilization Addicts ads seem less funny and more harrowing when you’re finding yourself no longer able to be a productive adult.

Every version of Civ has been like that, but I think the accessibility-plus-depth combo of Civ 5 makes it the most dangerous yet. The streamlined UI means you’re always presented with a clear list of stuff to do, but the fact that the guts of the full game (not a streamlined version like in Revolutions) means that that list will keep driving you to one more turn.

They Should’ve Sent a Poet
This isn’t just the most beautiful release in the Civilization series; it’s one of the best-looking games I’ve seen. What’s most important is that they’ve just nailed the art direction: it hits just the right spot between painterly and realistic. Going too realistic with a Civ game just feels off, since there’s so much weird abstraction going on. But the past couple of versions (and Revolution) have strayed too far in the opposite direction: either too cartoony to suit the epic tone of the game, or else an uncomfortable mash-up of realism and cartoon.

I’m continually amazed by how far game rendering tech has come. Visuals like this have always required 2D or lots of trickery, and it’s still kind of alarming to me to be able to zoom in and out of a painting, and see 3D models walking around on its 3D-modeled surface. And aside from some high-profile exceptions, it’s great to see developers not assuming that the natural end result of better tech is photo-realism. What it really does is give art teams the power for genuine artistic interpretation. Playing Civ 5 (on medium settings, the most my three-year-old quad-core Mac Pro can handle) makes me even more anxious for a new version of SimCity: a city building game with this level of detail would be amazing.

Difficulty Curve
The running thread through most of the reviews seems to be that this is a cross between Civilization Revolution and a deeper Civ game. I can see that, to an extent: Civ 4 had a little too much going on, with religion and espionage sub-systems bolted on top of everything instead of feeling like genuinely integrated systems. The franchise needed some streamlining.

Still, even though the UI is unquestionably improved, and the advisors and tutorials are actually helpful again (unlike Civ 4), I can’t imagine how I’d handle Civ 5 if it were my first exposure to the series. The apples-and-shields relationship that was so clear in Civ 2 and Civ 3 is now buried under layers of automation. You can still micromanage everything if you want, and it’s definitely better for experienced players that you don’t have to micromanage. But in a game that demands as much learn-as-you-go as Civilization, it’s a little unsettling being so far removed from the number-crunching that’s going on underneath.

I will say that the difficulty levels are scaled differently than earlier Civ games. The third difficulty level has traditionally been the sweet spot for me: I could win about 50% of the games. But in Civ 5 I won my first game at that level, and it was absolutely no contest. Sure, it’s a good idea to minimize player frustration, but that was always inherent to Civilization for me: so many times I’d be absolutely trounced by the AI by the time the Renaissance hit, so that the few times I was able to win were a lot more rewarding.

Culture
The culture subsystem was my favorite addition to Civ 3, since it made a peaceful victory genuinely feasible. Its effect on your city was understandable and visible; you could see your cities’ borders expand and understand exactly what the benefit was — especially when you had a city putting out so much culture that it automatically absorbed cities nearby. In Civ 5, though, it’s been abstracted to the point of being less clear as a simulation, but somewhat better for the gameplay. Culture still expands your borders, but not into another civ’s territory. And when you can just buy a tile, the border-expansion game feels a lot more mechanical and less like something growing organically out of the simulation.

Having culture output go towards civic policies makes sure that culture is still useful, but it’s also less intuitive. Unless all your culture is going to production of Les Miserables, it’s not clear how building a theater helps you enact a libertarian government. The policies themselves are welcome; it adds a process of leveling-up your Civ that’s familiar to anybody who’s played an RPG. But the cultural victory no longer has anything to do with border expansion, and is now just a matter of acquiring enough civic policies. It’s a little like playing an RPG and winning the game not when you beat the boss, but when you just gain a level.

City States
The City States are one of those things that seem like a fantastic concept that kind of fell apart during implementation. The reasoning behind them makes so much sense, it’s ingenious: they get you involved in diplomacy earlier in the game, instead of wandering around slugging barbarians for thousands of years. They give you objectives for more directed play, something the Civ series has never had. And it acknowledges how important city-states were to world history: the Civilization series is still one of the only series of games that have genuine educational merit to them. Plus, it’s just nice to see a bunch of allies suddenly turn on an enemy once you declare war.

It’s also bizarre that the city states don’t progress the same way as civilizations, but instead on par with the most advanced player. You end up with a city suddenly able to churn out tanks and infantry units while everyone around them is still making spearmen.

But your interaction with them is so limited, it ends up being more frustrating than satisfying. It would help if there were more genuine diplomatic options than just giving the money or running errands for them. I’m hoping that one of the inevitable expansions puts more content into the city-state relations.

Technology Trading
Tech trading is gone with Civ 5, and it’s conspicuously absent since it’s always seemed like an inherent part of the franchise. I can’t say I miss it, though, since it never seemed to work like it was intended. It always ended up with the AI civs forming a consortium among themselves and screwing me out of all the good tech. The downside is that you have to stay generalist: you no longer have the strategy option of specializing in one branch of the tech tree and then getting the rest through trading.

Combat
Most of the changes to Civ 5 are examples of compromise. The change to the combat system is the only thing that’s unquestionably better. I’ve always treated combat in Civ games like a necessary evil, but this is the first version where I’ve actually enjoyed it. Properties of units used to be just a simulation-driven rock-paper-scissors relationship, but now there’s a genuine tactical advantage to having ranged units versus melee ones. Combined with the cities’ new ability to defend themselves, it really puts the emphasis back on units instead of stacks. And the UI shows you the outcome of each battle in advance, so you’re making genuine tactical decisions instead of just throwing units at each other to see what happens. I feel like this is the version of combat the previous games were trying to make but could never quite get it right.

Overall
All of the changes to Civ 5 (except combat) have their downside, but overall I think this is a big net gain. This is definitely my favorite version of the game. I’ve played a ton of Civilization over the years, but I wouldn’t call myself an expert by any stretch, so I can’t speak to the depth of the strategy game. But this is the most fun I’ve had with the series, even more than with Civilization Revolution. And if it’s this enjoyable out of the box, it’s going to be exciting to see what changes and improvements come with the expansions. For now, though, I’m wasting time that could be better spent playing it.

Literacy 2010: Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter

My return to reading, more or less, starts with a book that kind of goes downhill after the title page.

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Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter by Seth Grahame-Smith

Synopsis
The author of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies discovers Abraham Lincoln’s private journal, detailing his history as the greatest vampire hunter of the 1800s.

Futility Disclaimer
The book was by most accounts a big success, a movie’s already in the works, and nobody expects great literature from a book called Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter.

Pros
No-brainer of a can’t-fail concept. Well researched (or at least Wikipediaed) enough to avoid being completely frivolous. Lincoln’s ally Henry Sturges is a fairly compelling character. Character voice and journal entries feel authentic enough. There are a few pretty good action sequences, and some pretty horrifying slavery-as-vampirism sequences. Has the same fortifying-by-proxy effect as Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: if reading easily-accessible history is as abhorrent to you as reading Jane Austen is to me, you might get something useful out of the book. Abraham Lincoln killing vampires with an axe is what’s promised on the cover, and there’s plenty of that in the book.

Cons
Absolutely no surprises — spoiler warning, John Wilkes Booth is a vampire! — and it takes no risks with the material. Almost all of the vampire-killing stops once Lincoln gets into office, and the book loses most of its punch. The clumsily-Photoshopped period photos don’t add anything, and actually stand out against the attempts at authenticity in the text. So much of the book feels like a novelization of a made-for-TV biopic, as if the author took a list of names and places from a cursory biography of Lincoln and used it as his outline, without making it feel like everything flowed together naturally. (There are occasional exceptions, for instance with Lincoln’s friendship with Joshua Speed, where the author puts a little bit of effort into making Speed feel like a real character).

Synopsis
On the surface, it seems like Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter is less of the search-and-replace job that Pride and Prejudice and Zombies was, but ultimately it’s the exact same concept: take “supposed to be good for you” source material, add internet-meme-inspired action sequences, and cash in from folks like me who’ll buy a book based on the title alone. This isn’t a bad book by any stretch, and it’s got more heft than the goofy title would suggest. But the gimmick is starting to feel more than a little crass, when the book takes a concept and does so little to expand on it. I’m feeling less like I’m in on the joke, riffing with the author on a wacky idea, and more like I’m being sold a T-shirt with an ironic slogan.

Ultimately, the book is too goofy to qualify as “real” literature, but too dry to qualify as action-horror-comedy. There are enough passages in the book — the embellished story of the Roanoake colony, for instance — that are just on the cusp of being interesting on their own merits, that I wish the author would try to write a book from scratch.

I Still Like Movies

Updating my list of favorite movies, because the internet needs to know.

Trash-talking movies isn’t nearly as enjoyable as playing them up. I made a list of favorites before, but that was back in 2007. There’ve been plenty of times since then that I’ve seen or been reminded of a movie and almost called it “one of my favorites,” but BAM. The list is already out there, on the internet for God and everyone to see.

So here’s the absolutely up-to-date version (until I hit post and remember four or five that I’d forgotten). Plus I’m rescinding my rule about not putting in too many movies by the same people.

Miller’s Crossing
The best screenplay ever filmed. I can still remember just about every second of the first time I saw this movie, almost 20 years ago now.

The Empire Strikes Back
I can remember every moment of the first time I saw this one, too. Premiere night at Phipps Plaza in Atlanta, waited in line for at least two hours, and the crowd went nuts every time a character came on screen, not to mention at the big reveal.

Star Wars
I liked this movie enough to abandon my friends and family to move across the country to a strange city just so I could (indirectly) work for the company that made it. And I still never worked on a Star Wars game.

Raiders of the Lost Ark
The people making this movie were so committed to it that they’d eat bugs just to keep the cameras rolling.

Aliens
Everybody knows what a great science fiction movie it is that it’s easy to forget what a perfect suspense movie it is, even without going the horror route like the original. The fact that it’s one of the strongest female characters in any movie is a bonus.

Rear Window
You can appreciate what a great movie it is the first time you watch it, and then the more you learn about it, you appreciate it even more. The weird thing is that with Grace Kelly in it, you didn’t really need it to be such a good movie.

Raising Arizona
The first Coen Brothers movie I ever saw, and like thousands of other devotees, I spent most of the 90s quoting it.

His Girl Friday
Rosalind Russell and Cary Grant are amazing, and it’s one of the only movies that feels contemporary no matter when you see it.

The Silence of the Lambs
Everybody in it is giving the best performance of their careers, especially Ted Levine. It knows exactly how to be horrifying without turning into cheap scares.

The Return of the King
The most epic of movie epics.

The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou
The crest of the Wes Anderson wave — after he had enough money to do everything he wanted, but before all the self-conscious quirkiness collapsed in on itself. “I wonder if it remembers me” still makes me cry every damn time.

Up
The best Pixar movie to date; it’s just a shame about the villain. I’ve seen it about a dozen times now, but I’ve only been able to watch the first 15 minutes twice. And still, it gets me at “I was waiting under the porch because you are my master and I love you!”

Adaptation
I’ve already written loads about Adaptation on here, but the brief version: it’s the perfect example of how to do meta-storytelling without falling apart or ending up so slight as to be meaningless. And it actually manages to be a reasonably good adaptation of the book, too.

Yojimbo
I admire all of Akira Kurosawa’s movies I’ve seen, but this and the sequel Sanjuro are the only ones I actually enjoy watching.

Big Trouble in Little China
The best of John Carpenter. I can’t believe I spent so much of the 80s and early 90s feeling ashamed for loving this movie so much. So much wasted time.

Airplane!
I think Top Secret! is actually more clever, but Airplane! wins on joke density alone.

Young Frankenstein
I can tell what a great movie this is because I loved it for years before seeing The Bride of Frankenstein and realizing that it was also a great parody. Another one where everybody involved is doing the best of work of their careers.

Singin’ in the Rain
The best movie musical ever made, mostly because it’s more fun than other Gene Kelly movies, and because Debbie Reynolds is kind of awesome.

The Shining
You’ll come for the river of blood pouring out of an elevator, you’ll stay for the guy giving fellatio while wearing a bear mask.

Ghostbusters
Has anybody ever put as much effort into a comedy as they did for Ghostbusters? Also: it seems odd to me that the most memorable moments now are the ones with Harold Ramis.

Pom Poko
Japanese raccoons attack humans with their magic testicles.

The Big Lebowski
I can never remember that this is one of my favorite movies, until I remember a brilliant moment like “obviously you’re not a golfer.” Also, it’s easily Julianne Moore’s finest performance (and best entrance). Also: phenomenal soundtrack.

Stairway to Heaven/A Matter of Life and Death
Powell and Pressburger are amazing, and Roger Livesey is a total bad-ass in this movie.

Monty Python and the Holy Grail
I was one of those people who couldn’t stop quoting this movie, before I discovered Raising Arizona.

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World
This is the one I’m probably going to regret, but dammit, I’ve seen it twice now and loved it each time. It is directly targeted at a relatively small audience (and I’m still not exactly sure I’m included in that audience), but in terms of what it sets out to do, it’s practically flawless.

Would Be On the List If It Didn’t Stop At 25 Because Really, Having More Than 10 Things on a List of Favorites Is Kind of Silly

The Night of the Hunter
The Thing
Kill Bill: Volume 1
Casablanca
Robocop
Lilo & Stitch
Toy Story 2
Casino Royale (2006)
Children of Men
Vertigo
Top Secret!
Who Framed Roger Rabbit?
Starship Troopers
O Brother, Where Art Thou?
The Man Who Would Be King
Moulin Rouge

Trash Talk

Responding to a Salon article taking pot shots at classic movies.

My friend Matt Dessem, who knows a lot more about movies than I do, linked to an article by another Matt (whether he knows more about movies than I do is likely, but I’m not yet convinced), Zoller Seitz on Salon.com. It’s called “Trash Talking Nine Classic Movies”, although the URL “Movie Heresy Slide Show” is a lot more compelling. He chooses ten movies (the first two Godfathers are counted as one) that are critically acclaimed and/or extremely popular, some of which he loves, and either points out a fatal flaw or claims he just doesn’t get the appeal.

He also encourages discussion. I’m inferring he was hoping for discussion in the comments section, but I’m paying for a blog and I’ll damn well use it. I’m not going to spend a lot of time recapping his points, so I suggest going through the slideshow first. (Also, there are spoilers in here, but seriously: if you haven’t seen these movies by now, it’s kind of your own fault).

Where He’s Wrong

To start with, here’s where I disagree.

The Silence of the Lambs
I completely disagree with his take. For one thing, you can’t blame a movie for the actions of its sequels, or even for its source material. I happen to think that The Silence of the Lambs is one of the best examples of how to adapt a book to a movie, since the book and movie are roughly equal in quality — I’d say the movie is a bit better — and each one best uses the strengths of its medium. (What’s scariest in the book isn’t scariest in the movie, and vice versa, and because each knew what kind of scares it was best at delivering). However, everything after that is just plain awful. Hannibal was such a loathsome book that I never bothered watching the movie, so bad in fact that I lost interest in the whole franchise. But that doesn’t change the fact that Silence of the Lambs still holds up, any more than Silence of the Lambs automatically made Red Dragon and Manhunter more than simply mediocre.

To his main point, though: one of the most remarkable things about Silence of the Lambs is that they deliberately avoided making Hannibal Lecter an antihero. The scenes with him and Clarice are straight-up traumatic, and it’s key to the whole tone of the movie: she’s entered a world of unrelenting awfulness. And even the final scene avoids turning Lecter into an antihero — actually, the movie does a much better job at this than the book. The key to the final scene isn’t that Lecter escapes, it’s that he calls Clarice. It’s not “look how cool he is,” it’s “oh shit she’s opened Pandora’s Box, and she knows it.” Her whole story is about her being surrounded by evil without getting stained by it herself, that’s why the shot where she and Lecter first touch stands out as so electric even with so many other horrible scenes fighting for your repulsion. Now of course, the sequel basically takes that great concept and then shits all over it, turning Lecter into an over the top anti-hero and Starling into basically an idiot, but that’s something that’s most definitely not present in Silence of the Lambs.

District 9
I don’t know if I’d put it on the same level as the other “classics” in the list, but I liked District 9 a lot. The whole reason it worked wasn’t even its plot or subject matter as much as its presentation: it felt like an independent production, and it deftly side-stepped being predictable or formulaic any chance it got. Starting with the setting: sure, South Africa is the obvious setting for a parable about apartheid, but then, how many science fiction movies have been set in South Africa? And the main character: he stays pretty much an unredeemable bastard long past the breaking point, when lesser movies would have had him repent. Plus, the overall tone is unconventional: if you expect it to be an action movie, you’ll be surprised at how much time it spends on character development. And if you’re expecting a message movie, you’ll be surprised at a guy in a mech suit doing a one-handed catch of a missile, which remains awesome.

Pulp Fiction
Actually I mostly agree with his take, but the whole bit that doesn’t work for me is Bruce Willis’s story. Especially the scenes with his dull, dull girlfriend in the hotel room. They could’ve taken him completely out of the movie and not lost anything, I think. And yeah, Quentin Tarantino’s scenes are just awful, but you don’t need to be a professional film critic to realize that.

To Kill a Mockingbird
His complaint here is just bizarre. “A fine lesson if you’re devout, but what if you’re not?” Then this movie is not for you. It’s a morality story, almost a parable. There’s no place nor need for shades of gray here. Why not let a good message movie just deliver a good message?

Where I’m Right

And here are a few movies that I love except for one thing, or movies that have near-universal acclaim but I just don’t get the appeal.

Up
Still my favorite Pixar movie, but I still hate how the villain was handled. He just turned too evil too quickly.

On the Waterfront and Breathless
I’m lumping these together not because they have much in common, but because I’ve already talked about them on this blog. Each is almost universally hailed as a classic, but I thought both were boring and relatively pointless. I’m assuming they were remarkable in their time, and just don’t work as well out of context. But I still fail to understand how Brando’s performance in On the Waterfront became so iconic, because there’s just nothing all that remarkable about it.

Primer
This one isn’t nearly as well-known as the others, but it’s mentioned in Zoller Seitz’s article. I’ve had it recommended to me several times as being excellent, intelligent, intricately plotted, a real mind-bender, etc. I’ve never heard a bad review from someone who’s seen it. But I hated it. I thought it was pondering and dry, and the set-up was too contrived to be interesting (it’s about the most boring form of time travel imaginable). Plus, I usually try to give low-budget movies a pass, but here, the lack of money just seemed glaring.

Inception
While I’m thinking about “mind-bending” movies, I’ve got to mention Inception again. Because I liked it fine after I saw it, but I’m growing to hate it the more I read about it. I just don’t get why everyone is making such a big deal about how mind-expanding it was. Sure, it’s impressive how meticulously planned and plotted the whole movie is, but it’s just plain not confusing. My biggest problem with it, in fact, is that it was so afraid of letting the audience be confused for one second, that everything is over-explained.

And also: the bit about the theme music mirroring La Vie en Rose? So what? The music is a relentlessly ponderous dirge, just like the beginning of an old French pop song. There have been plenty of clever things done with movie music before, and they didn’t make you leave the theater feeling like you’d been beaten about the head and neck for the past two hours.

Chinatown and Full Metal Jacket
Both are fine movies, I just don’t get why they’re so widely regarded as classics. Each has iconic moments, sure. But Full Metal Jacket basically falls apart after boot camp; I doubt I could tell you one thing that happens once they actually get to Vietnam, even though I’m pretty sure that’s where all the meaning of the movie is stored. And Chinatown seems like such a straightforward detective story, that every time I hear it described as one of the best screenplays ever written, I just have to nod in an attempt to keep the conversation from going on any longer.

And that’s probably more than enough negativity for one blog post.

Back-story

If you have to explain it, it’s not funny. Filling in some extra back story for seasons 2 and 3 of Telltale’s Sam & Max games.

I was reading a message board discussion about Telltale’s Sam & Max: The Devil’s Playhouse, and there were a couple of people understandably confused about the big dump of back-story that’s given towards the end of the last episode. Specifically, Stinky’s story. I started to respond there, but figured I might as well put it here so that people could get to it if interested.

It’s fairly interesting as an example of how episodic development differs from regular game development — it was supposed to be kind of a long-running gag that was constantly simmering in the background, but it kept getting pushed out of the way as each episode’s own story got more involved and each episode’s writer & designer told their own story. It was further complicated by the fact that it was supposed to work two ways: if you’d played all of season 2, then it was a huge retcon to explain/undo a lot of the ridiculous stuff in that season that we intentionally never paid off on. If you hadn’t, then it was just a ridiculously convoluted non-sequitur meant to poke fun at anyone expecting Sam & Max to make sense. I’m still not sure what exactly is the best post-mortem lesson there for anybody to take advantage of, other than the obvious “keep it simple.”

So here’s the story in detail, at least how it was intended (I could be off on some details that some of the other writers may have filled in or changed along the way).

Huge spoilers for seasons 2 and 3 of Sam & Max follow, so you should probably only read if you finished those seasons and are feeling confused and/or curious.

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