Movies – Brian Crick

Why I Liked Battleship More Than Star Trek

(Spoilers on both movies ahead.)

The other night, I saw the new Battleship movie. And, surprisingly enough, I kept comparing it to the latest Star Trek movie.

Star Trek was critically acclaimed. Battleship was universally panned. But they have lots of similarities:

We start with a protagonist who’s a bit of a screwball.
Said protagonist demonstrates his screwballness in a scene involving him in a bar trying to impress a girl he just met, and instead getting into trouble.
Protagonist gets a chewing out by someone in the military, is told that they have lots of wasted potential, and is urged to join the military.
Protagonist joins the military.
Protagonist develops a rival within the military, a person somewhat more by-the-book than himself.
Bad aliens attack. Good guys don’t fare so well.
Protagonist demonstrates his ability to command a ship in a pivotal scene involving his rival.
Good guys defeat aliens.

Now, admittedly, there’s a lot more to Star Trek than this possibly pedestrian screwball-does-good character arc, which has been done many times before. And the constraints that movie had to deal with, what with rebooting the franchise and all must have been crushing for anyone involved, But to the extent that I rather like pedestrian character arcs, and am going to focus on that aspect of any movie that has one, I kinda liked Battleship better than Star Trek.

exposition

Let’s start with the screwball. Star Trek’s Kirk gets in a bar fight while hitting on a girl who’d just as soon be left alone. There are nice moments, but it’s not that memorable a scene.

In contrast, Battleship’s Hopper is introduced in one of the funniest scenes in a movie I’ve seen in a while. Here, he girl wants something: a chicken burrito. The bar’s not serving food anymore, so our protagonist, in a desperate attempt to be helpful, runs to the nearest quickie mart to get a burrito. The mart is closed, so he breaks in, warms up a burrito, leaves some money on the counter, makes a huge mess of the place, gets chased by cops and gets tased just after delivering said burrito, falling unconscious at the feet of the girl he’s trying to impress.

It’s absurd, it’s funny, it’s memorable, and it’s strangely endearing. I’d go so far as to say it’s the best introduction of a screwball character I’ve seen.

the set-up

The next few scenes have one of those things where an unfortunate chain of events forces our unprepared, screwball hero into a situation where he suddenly has to prove his worth as a leader.

The captain of Kirk’s ship has to go do some super-dangerous stuff, leaves Kirk’s rival in command, and much to everybody’s surprise, makes Kirk the new second in command.

In contrast, in Battleship, the entire command staff of Hopper’s ship is killed, leaving Hopper as the senior ranking officer. Structurally, I like this set-up a little better. Hopper is completely blindsided by this. He goes from zero to captain in a single scene. We’re shown Hopper’s lack of fitness as a leader because he’s a really bad captain at first. He doesn’t have the trust of his crew at all, but he’s still captain and has to figure out what to do.

Kirk, as second in command, has to prove he’s better than his rival before he can take command and actually make command decisions. We don’t necessarily get a great sense of how exactly Kirk’s loose-cannon-ness might make him a bad captain and why nobody trusts him.

baggage

Both Hopper and Kirk have relatives in the military who die in combat early in the film, and Hopper and Kirk want to live up to these shining examples of military officers.

Kirk’s baggage is his father, who died saving a just-being-born Kirk. It’s noble and all, but you can’t really say Kirk and his father had an interesting relationship.

Hopper’s baggage is his brother, who he lived with well into adulthood, and who he works with in the Navy. We see them talking; we see Hopper’s brother trying to take care of him; we see the brother’s disappointment when things go badly. That relationship is the core of the first few scenes of the movie.

pay off

So finally we have our scene where our hero rises to the occasion and becomes the leader he needs to be, for the world to be saved.

Kirk does it by tearing down his rival. By proving that his rival, the current captain, is emotionally unfit for command.

A rival whose entire home planet just got swallowed by a black hole.

I find that pay off more than a little anticlimactic. If your home planet just got erased form existence, you might be a bad captain for a while, too.

In Battleship, Hopper proves his fitness by temporarily letting his rival run the ship, because his rival has come up with a brilliant plan for defeating the aliens. Hopper proves his fitness by acknowledging that command isn’t about doing everything yourself; it’s about understanding the strengths of your crew and managing them well.

On an emotional level, I actually found this surprisingly satisfying. That arc really worked for me.

set piece

On a completely non-character-driven level, I liked the action scenes in Battleship more than Star Trek too. Being based on a board game, everything’s a bit more, shall we say, rules heavy. And I think any good set piece should have rules. Some people might groan at Hopper’s rival’s plan to chart the course of the aliens on a giant grid with letters on one axis and numbers on the other, but I rather liked that. It was better than watching starships flying at each other with guns blazing. There’s no structure to that.

And I rather like silly, overly abstract structures overlaid on my movies, whether you’re talking about set pieces or character development.

All the City’s a Stage

Apparently, there’s this YA, vampirey series of books set in a prep school in my childhood home town of Tulsa — not the prep school I went to, mind you, but a big rival of ours; and much of the action in the books takes place in places I’ve been. I’m tempted to give it a shot. I vaguely remember getting a kick out of Dragons of the Cuyahoga because it’s set in my current home of Cleveland; it’s kind of a different way of engaging with ficton.

* * *

Saw The Avengers last night. Much of it was filmed in Cleveland, though Cleveland is standing in for New York City and, in one scene, some place in Germany. I was afraid that would be kind of distracting, but it wasn’t, really; most of the time, everything’s going by so fast you could really be anywhere.

There’s one part, though — no spoilers, just talking about locations here — where they’re outside in this square downtown, and all these dressy people are happily walking on red carpets going into this shopping center/skyscraper I know as Tower City… and when they switch to an interior shot, it’s not Tower City, it’s some gallery. (Marie and I were thinking it might be the Cleveland Museum of Art, but we can’t confirm that.)

I found that kind of fascinating, because I didn’t find it at all jarring. It just kind of made sense.

Also, there’s this exterior shot looking up at the skyscraper part of Tower City, and it just works so well because of the way that place is lit with ominous red lights even when they’re not filming movies there.

There was another shot of a random street with some scaffolding over a sidewalk, and some Lion King and other Broadway posters on the wall behind the scaffolding, and nothing said New York City to me like that little section of street. That could have been any street in Cleveland I guess; just make it look like it’s under construction and add a zillion musical ads and boom, it’s New York. That sold me on the location better than the aerial shots, better than the view of the Chrysler building outside of someone’s office. Probably because that’s a view of New York City I’ve actually seen myself. It’s interesting, the details you latch onto. I don’t really think of the skyscrapers when I think of Manhattan.

Marie has this one football friend who was in the background of a scene, playing a random scientist. I didn’t see her, but I found myself paying a lot of attention to the extras, thinking about those here in Cleveland who were lucky enough to be a part of this and see how this all gets put together and meet the stars of the movie.

It’s funny, the last movie we saw was The Cabin in the Woods, also written by Joss Whedon, also starring Chris Hemsworth… and that, plus the enthusiastic midnight showing audience, plus it being in Cleveland, plus Marie’s friend who I’ve given water to on the football field, all that kind of added up to this unique way of engaging with the movie, like you’re watching a school play put on by a bunch of people you know already in other contexts. And it’s comforting and familiar and you’re not just there to consume something made by some faceless studio; you’re there to be supportive and see how it turned out and it’s a strangely personal thing at that point.

I like that. I like a big dose of artificiality with my fiction, and I kind of like the idea of being aware of the craft of the movie while watching it, just so long as that awareness doesn’t break you out of the story being told.

In an odd sort of way, the occasional familiar Cleveland building made it easier to imagine that this was all happening right here; it made it more immediate — not less.

Heart of Neutrality

I attended my second Cleveland Game Developers meetup last night, and (gasp!) I had a lot of fun. It’s a pretty diverse group, with as many artists as programmers, so my fears of being surrounded by other technical types were largely unfounded.

I even got to offer advice on music software to someone there. It’s a great feeling, to be in a position to be helpful to someone you don’t know personally.

I kinda like networking events. I know they’re the bane of many people’s existences, but there’s a time and place for the sort of neutral, casual conversation you get at things like this. Sure, being overly friendly at a networking event can be awkward, and if you’re having networking-type discussions with friends, that’s just depressing… but I feel a strange sort of calm talking to people I’ve never met before, who I may never meet again. It’s kind of liberating.

* * *

They’re pushing this Game Jam thing where you’re given a theme for a game, split into teams, and have 48 hours to come up with something interesting. I’m not really interested in doing a 48-hour programming challenge… I just don’t think I’ll find such a thing particularly fun or relevant to the specific programming skills I need to work on right now. However, if I attended as an illustrator or a fledgling musician, assigned to a random programmer, I think that would be an interesting experience. I could use the practice thinking quickly and doing those sorts of creative pursuits under absurdly tight deadlines.

As I understand it, they’re short on illustrators and musicians anyway… need to confirm that, though.

* * *

Watched Apocalypse Now for the first time last night. It may not sound like it, but that’s kind of a big deal. As someone with a dad who’s a Vietnam war veteran, Vietnam war movies simply didn’t exist in my chilldhood — or young-adulthood. The war itself was never spoken of, and I only know details of my dad’s involvement in the war secondhand.

Sure, I’ve seen Good Morning Vietnam and Heaven and Earth but those aren’t focused on combat so much.

So anyway, I watched it, and failed to find it particularly disturbing, or horrifying, though my impression is that it wanted to be those things, and succeeds for most people. I sorta wonder if there’s something wrong with me there. I’ve found maybe one or two movies in my life disturbing.

Then again, going back to the whole war-veteran thing… of course, I’ve never seen real warfare, but I’m pretty sure that no movie is ever, ever going to come close to capturing even the secondhand account of this event in my head, cobbled together from a couple decades of whispers and worried looks.

You want to flesh that out in a 2 or 3 hour ‘epic’? Please. I may just laugh at you.

Fun with Symbols

Lately, I’ve been amused by certain similarities in two recent movies, Super 8 and X-Men First Class—and how this relates to what I want to get done with Tinselfly.

Warning: spoilers ahead.

Both Super 8 and X-Men have leads who carry around small, inanimate objects of great personal significance to them. Both movies have wordless scenes in their climaxes where said inanimate objects abruptly take on a life of their own, and the audience is presented with a simple, clear, visual metaphor for the resolution of the leads’ internal struggles.

I love it when movies do this sort of stuff. I wish more movies spoke their own language like this, and get frustrated when I think a movie is missing an opportunity to tell stories through objects. I saw Midnight in Paris recently too, and I thought they could have gone in this direction with a pair of earrings a character possessed, and I was sad they did not.

Of course this is just one specific way of having a movie communicate things visually. The Tree of Life, another new release, is overflowing with visual symbolism, and those visuals did absolutely nothing for me.

So I’m trying to relate this to storytelling in games, this sort of formula. And yeah, you could argue that it can go into visual cliché territory, but storytelling in games isn’t really there yet, and we need formulas that work.

The nice thing here is, this isn’t so much different than the way I’d envision storytelling through game mechanics working. These objects already have mechanics. They’re made of metal; they’re affected by magnetism. This doesn’t matter most of the time for most metal objects you’ll run across, but in one case there was a giant electromagnet being constructed by an alien, and in the other we had a character with superpowers revolving around magnetism. The big difference I’d see for games is that, for this sort of symbolism to work, it has to kind of catch you off guard let you see it as just another thing to plan strategy around.

I don’t have any concrete ideas for translating this to Tinselfly or whatever, but it’s not too far of a stretch to imagine a video game starring X-Men‘s Magneto, and you’re having fun using your toss-metal-around powers when suddenly you find yourself using new powers in an old location for the first time, and previously non-reactive bits of character-significant scenery come to life for the first time…