Cinemaphobe

March 2011. That’s the last time I watched a film at the cinema. It was not even a night out. It was the local midday ‘baby’ cinema viewing of Hop. No balls to the wall action or inappropriate f-ing and blinding; just James Marsden fucking around as the Easter bunny whilst Russell Brand did voices! Apart from the ever delightful Penny from Big Bang Theory appearing as Marsden’s sister, I don’t actually recall much about it, which is a sure fire signal for defining mediocrity. So, the last time I properly went to the cinema was sometime in 2010, which was so long ago now I can’t even recall what it was I watched…

Kaley Cuoco - yum!

This wouldn’t have happened in 1999 when in the space of two weeks I saw things you wouldn’t have believed; the second coming being rightly trashed by the greatest sleeper hit ever is kind of what I imagine c-beams glittering on the shoulder of Orion and attack ships on fire by the Tanhauser Gate probably looks like. So where has it all gone wrong? Some delicate introspection is required to ascertain whether I have become a grumpy and reclusive cinemaphobe.

Taking a shit in George Lucas' cereal since 1999.

There is some tangible context to apply before coming to any pre-determined judgements. Clowny Jnr was born in January 2011; a point in time when I was immediately beset upon by hitherto unknown responsibility. Decision-making now followed a defined order – the boy before my own selfish wants and needs. Nappies and shit are flipping expensive, as is a night out at the cinema. Two tickets, popcorn, a possible meal beforehand and beers after to discuss the hidden depths of the latest Adam Sandler flick and you’ve pretty much spent the best part of £40 to sit though tedious wank like The Expendables (sadly, not every movie is Scott Pilgrim vs The World). That’s like 250 nappies. With such reasoning you can begin to see why cinema-going has fallen off the radar.

In addition, I’ve kind of moved out of my comfort zone. Essex to Surrey to be precise! Back in the homeland there is an entourage of like-minded individuals whom travel regularly to Festival Park in Bas Vegas to watch the latest cinema releases. And by latest I mean just that. There really must have been nothing else on the weekend Mission to Mars was released (I still haven’t forgiven you for that Wenty). Yet it did also provide the opportunity to sit through little known gems like Ravenous, The Limey and Syrianna as well. But I seem to be at a loss without having good company at the cinema. Frequenting the cinema on my own just seems weird, especially the mingling with poshos from Surrey. I never thought I’d ever have the need to say this, but it’s just not Basildon (shit, now you’re all going to think I yearn for The Sugar Hut) and, therefore, a little disorientating.

Just one of the very many good reasons to seek out The Limey.

Finally, it’s very rare an Amelie comes along (the middle ground between District 9 and Jane Eyre) to allow for the better half and I to agree on a cinema date together. She won’t come along simply to hold my hand and make it look like I’m not some weird and creepy thirtysomething who goes to the cinema on his own if she has to sit through Tucker and Dale vs Evil. Which I don’t even understand; Tucker and Dale vs Evil is freaking awesome!

So, I’m kind of at a loss as to what to do other than bide my time and wait for the DVD release. Just like I’m doing now for The Raid, The Pirates! in an Adventure with Scientists, Prometheus, The Dark Knight Rises and Judge Dredd. If there is one thing I’ve learnt as a father its patience and these relatively non-essential things can wait. But that doesn’t make it an easy thing to see through; especially watching others discuss movies whilst you’re on the outside looking in with no frame of reference, carefully navigating a route through potential spoilers to DVDville. It’s a bollock-aching agony. Particular when you recognise Scott Pilgrim is an arsehole, rather than a hipster, only to find a million monkeys have already noticed this beforehand and propagated the Internet to bursting point with such obvious insight, stealing my thunder.

Gits.

Just like Willam in Mallrats, I can no longer see the sailboat. 

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Return of the Freeman

So, whilst we’re all still twiddling our thumbs and scratching our arses waiting for Valve to pull out their finger and deliver unto us the next instalment of the further adventures of Dr Gordon Freeman, it was announced earlier this week that Black Mesa would finally be released on 14 September. Well part of it anyway. It’s been eight years in the making and it’s still not actually finished. Even loyal followers of Valve seem unable to absolve themselves totally from the quantum peculiarity of Valve time (which the original resonance cascade may or may not be directly responsible for).

One day dammit, one day. 

Essentially a remake of Half-Life developed by around 40 modders using Valve’s Source engine, Black Mesa is the Half-Life community’s response to the barely noticeable and somewhat disappointing graphical changes to the original game when it was made available on Steam in 2004. But this is not just further graphical tweaks; Black Mesa is a fully realised remake. Supposedly it will divert little, if at all, from the main storyboard, but the more tedious parts of the original game have been streamlined and level maps increased in size to accommodate greater challenge. It has even been suggested that Valve’s marvellous AI routines have been tweaked and improved upon. If so, wowsers! As a bonus, Black Mesa makes Half-Life look just as crisp as Half-Life 2, if not better:

So, Black Mesa has the potential to be most excellent; although re-working a masterpiece means there is added pressure to deliver. Look at the remakes of most movie masterpieces, such as Psycho or the recent The Thing travesty. Oh dear. Then there’s the eight year wait which touches more upon Daikatana time, let alone Valve time. Let’s hope it’s just a perfection thing, rather than a ‘we’ve kind of ballsed it up’ thing. More worryingly, from the video sequence above, there seems to be a lot of swooping camera views. That means cut-scenes. One of the key reasons as to why Half-Life worked so well was that everything in game was witnessed from Gordon’s eye-view, absolving the need for an out of body experience and making the game more interactive as a result. Please, don’t let it be bloody cut-scenes.

'No to cut scenes'. Gordon Freeman, yesterday.

Anyway, enough of the pessimism! I’m sure it will all work out great in the end. Although Valve are not involved, there is enough Valve in the starting point for Black Mesa to rise above many a modern FPS. Despite only half a game (it ends in the Lambda complex around the point Gordon dimension jumps to the alien world Xen) there’s expected to be around 10 hours of gaming available, which means plenty of alien-arse kicking with the now iconic crow-bar. But the really awesome news is Black Mesa is being offered as a free download from the mod team’s main site. Bless them and their Tim Berners-Lee approach to sticking two fingers up at capitalism. Excited? I’ve just let out a little bit of wee…

Visit the Black Mesa project site here! 

Retro City Rampage vs GTA V

GTA V is just around the corner. Big whoop! Sure the trailer and early screen-shots look flash, but it also remains abundantly sterile and soulless, a quagmire the franchise has found itself shoulder deep in since GTA 3. Cutting out all of the stupid fun and silliness of the original (including the mowing down of a line of Hare-Krishna for simple chuckles) the now serious high-minded nature of professional criminality and all of the mucky business that goes with it is just tedious bobbins. A bit like the endless fecking cut-scenes! Where’s fast, frantic and notoriously daft fun when you need it?

Skate or Die. 720 was better.

Well, luckily for us some Canadian dude called Brian Provinciano has been crafting an open-world action parody in the form of an 8-bit styled gaming extravaganza. Retro City Rampage, on the face of it, appears to be the GTA V we really want; pure hokum where blowing the shit out of anything is everything. APB, Paperboy and Cannon Fodder all seem to be thrown into the mix for good measure, providing a return to what made Grand Theft Auto really marvellous in the first place. Fast, smooth scrolling graphics (see the gameplay videos available) making for a break-neck pace as civilians are blown to smithereens, cars are jacked, high-scores are totted up and achievements earned – a nice modern touch to complement the retro gaudiness of the visuals.

Sure it looks somewhat garish, but this really could be the essence of the Commodore 64 showcased on modern systems, not just simple emulation. And obviously it’s retro enough to make me feel ever so slightly giddy. Brian has even slaved over the game for the last seven years to get it right, mimicking the individual programmers that frequented yesteryear before big gaming studios were the done thing. If Retro City Rampage does the business we could, therefore, be mentioning Brian in the same breath as Tony Crowther, Jeff Minter, Manfred Trenz, Sensible Software, Archer McLean and Geoff Crammond. Groovy company indeed!

 This could be based on any number of 8-bit titles. Inspired by Ikari Warriors? 

Anyway, a release date isn’t far off and at just under ten quid on the PC it at least reflects former prices for 8-bit gaming. You could even pre-order from the games' website now!

http://www.retrocityrampage.com/index.php

Seriously can’t wait. A review of Retro City Rampage (the real GTA V) will be available after release and once I’ve given it considerable playtime. Is anyone else creaming in their jeans with the anticipation of it all?

 Paperboy was actually a pretty rubbish game.

Blood of the Zombies – Fighting Fantasy returns

The joys of being a man-child are boundless, or so a recent foray into my Dad’s loft would indicate. All my cool stuff from when I was a child lies hidden away up there like a treasure trove just waiting for someone to dive in (think Scroodge McDuck and his money pit in the Duck Tales opening credits). Whilst my Action Force figures have been snapped in half by some unknown hand (except Snake Eyes of course, proving once and for all you don’t fuck with a ninja), the whole adventure of sneaking a peak through the gaps of a variety of cello-taped boxes made for some giddy excitement. There was my Amiga 600 and a horde of games just waiting to see the light of day again; an old Scaletrix track about the length of the A127; a worn Blood Bowl board which has reminded me that spending £50 for a brand new one is well worth it; some old Dark Horse ‘Aliens’ comics; and, most importantly, castle freaking LEGO!

I was also fortunate enough to find my old collection of Fighting Fantasy Books. Remember those? Adventures typically set in the far flung lands of Allansia where you were the hero, which meant frequent dice rolling and choosing your own path to complement the dizzying descriptions of despicable beasts and terrifying terrors. Of course, by frequent dice rolling I mean automatically setting your stamina to 24 and skill level to 12; and by choosing your own path I mean keeping hold of the previous page from which you’ve turned so you can quickly continue on the right path just in case moving that curious brick at the bottom of that wall results in instant death from sharp spiky things.

Spooky...

Still, despite their often linear method of progression, Ian Livingstone and Steve Jackson were rightly held aloft by young teens who did not know any better as geniuses for the fantasy universe they had created. Jackson in particular produced some of the more unique entries in the series. House of Hell was the first book that moved away from Allansia and instead took centre stage in the modern world. It was more survival horror than fantasy and remains the inspiration for my own book which owes a fair few nods in the direction of House of Hell. Still, it was no Creature of Havoc, probably the high-point in the whole fighting fantasy series. Playing a creature who cannot speak (you grunt throughout), the journey to finding your true nature is marvellous and the finale features a great unexpected reveal that will keep you smiling for days.

Zharradan Marr - total bastard! 

So the news that a new Fighting Fantasy book has just been released to coincide with the 30^th anniversary of the release ofThe Warlock of Firetop Mountain (the first Fighting Fantasy book in the series for those lacking an inner child) is very much welcome. Disappointingly, Jackson has not been involved so the more direct and less challenging approach of Livingstone is expected; however, Blood of the Zombies at least seems to bring the franchise bang up-to-date with modern geek sensibilities. World War Z showed that zombie literature can be dynamic and thoughtful-provoking (particularly where the zombie is used to exacerbate the ills of man being a bastard to fellow man), and whilst such an expectation is not warranted here the least Blood of the Zombies could provide the adventurer with is a combat system that revels in fighting off hordes of the unliving with baseball bats and golf clubs whilst trying to survive a zombie uprising at Ikea, Croydon. So what have we got? You wake chained up in a cell in a Romanian castle with some deranged mad doctor infecting people with zombie blood for chuckles. A little bit B-movie, a little bit cheesy. Ikea, Croydon would make for a far better scenario.

Still, it remains a new Fighting Fantasy book, and hopefully this is just the beginning of a few new titles appearing in the series. An Evil Dead 2 inspired effort would be marvellous, so get working on it Ian (or better yet, Steve). Until then, I’m going to venture over to Amazon and wallow in some fruitful nostalgia; even if the Blood of the Zombies plot does on the surface appear to be ever so shit…

Blood of the Zombies - Ian Livingstone 

The Pixel Empire

The book is on the back burner again. Damn it. Currently distracted by video games and, more importantly, helping an online chum develop the content for his gaming website. This means I’m playing games more regularly at the moment and spending the commute to London Town writing about them, instead of the next chapter. It remains a winning situation though; two hobbies (gaming and writing) coming together and complementing each other perfectly. Quite the bonus!

The site I’m contributing too is called ‘The Pixel Empire’ and the focus is on reviewing retro-games, although the occasional recent release and everything in-between will also get the odd look in. You can visit The Pixel Empire here...

 

A little bit of 16-bit gaming awesomeness!

 

The site is less about what is on the horizon gaming wise - unless it’s a peculiarity like the recent release of Gun Lord on the Dreamcast (yes, the Dreamcast) - and more about harking back to the glory days spent in your bedroom, where we all waggled our joysticks whilst admiring Lara Croft’s pixels. In other words The Pixel Empire is the perfect excuse to mess around with emulation and re-live the likes of Speedball 2, Cannon Fodder, Turrican, Head Over Heels, Sensible Soccer and Zelda III: A Link to the Past in the body of a man-child. It’s also a purely selfish attempt at getting a more varied gaming diet to wean me off the addictiveness of Diablo 3…

Only idiots would think Head Over Heels is rubbish...

Alongside developing the main review database, occasional articles relating to retro-gaming will also feature – I’m currently working on a couple involving abandonware, gog.com, Manfred Trenz and investigating just why Modern Warfare 2 is comparable to a large pair of donkey bollocks – and we’re looking to make the site a little more interactive with a high-score table and frequent challenges being set for the readership. Lots of ideas and at the moment The Pixel Empire is coming along pretty well.

The whole thing is edited by a Welsh lad called Tom Clare, who is an expert gamer and reviewer, who I’ve randomly bumped into in cyberspace. He’s just as passionate about games and The Pixel Empire is his baby. I’m on board as a workshy lackey and am particularly grateful for the outlet to contribute my usual brand of gaming nonsense. Saying that, though, we are a bit short on X-Box know how. As in we’re both PS3 monkeys! So if anyone out there fancies themselves as a bit of a gamer who can string a couple of sentences together explaining just why Halo is so vastly overrated, then we’d like to hear from you. Simply contact Tom at the following link.

There's only one Zelda - and it's a Link to the Past!

More contributors are welcome to provide second opinions on games already reviewed, new reviews or interesting features. Knowledge of gaming history would be beneficial as well as a good written style. There’s no payment – although if you contribute some quality stuff Tom might give you a pat on the head and a biscuit – us minions just do this for the passion of gaming! So, even if you’re not interested in contributing, take a look at the site, tell us what you think, request reviews and participate in the forthcoming challenges. We look forward to sharing with you.

Visit 'The Pixel Empire'

FIFA. Still does not match the genius of Sensible Soccer.

The irritability of the long distance runner

I now better appreciate the loneliness of the long distance runner. Going for a lengthy jog with just your internal monologue for company is one of the few precious moments of peace and quiet one is likely to get from the hectic chaos of modern life. Head down, switch off, think about how to start that Turrican review. Bliss!

The reason for this appreciation of the lonesome jogger follows my participation in the British 10k run last Sunday. Here, as one small human amoeba amongst many, the internal monologue suffers from way too much interference to enjoy said run, particular when it turns into a never-ending game of dodgems. The pre-race pack highlighted keep to the right if you were likely to pootle around the course like a well-fed buffalo, but obviously some people lack the ability to read. Or are just morons! Stopping to walk in the middle of the course forcing other runners into immediate action to avoid a collision is a little like that bit in Jedi when Lando recognises the Death Star shields are still up. Fucking annoying! Get out of the way you great galoot!

So, instead of a nice enjoyable run taking in the sites of central London, this 10k was more an exasperating affair of having to take constant action to avoid slower runners and walkers. Worst of all most of these drongos were wearing headphones (I still don’t understand why people do this – does it not play hell with your natural running movements and breathing?) minimising the chance they’ll be able to hear the herd of elephants behind them and skip politely out of the way. My elbows are bruised from all the near-misses. On two occasions my ankles were almost wrapped around the metal fences keeping the watching punters out. And between the 6k mark and 8k mark it absolutely chucked it down. I presume this is what hell is probably like.

Still, despite the frequent side-stepping and speeding up to get through tiny gaps before they were swallowed up by a mass of large sweaty bodies, I got round in 50 minutes 36 seconds and have raised just under £200 so far for Independent Age. Not bad for only two and half weeks training (that’s six runs starting with a three miler) after the missus signed me up for it. And the main perk is the little beer gut has receded slightly and I’m looking more buff than I have done since 2003. So I’m off out for a run tonight – come October this year there’s the possibility of a half marathon and running the gauntlet through another bunch of inconsiderate berks messing with my karma. The loneliness of the longest distance runner is certainly the calm before the storm…

Spot the goof!

I’m still looking for donations following the British 10k (my target was £350), so if you want to give a little to a worthy charity fighting the good fight for older people against a ruthless government of millionaire public school twonks that don’t give a shit, do it at the following link:

http://www.justgiving.com/Alan-Passingham-10k

Ta!