Wednesday, December 20, 2017

Star Wars: The Last Jedi (2017)




WARNING: SPOILERS PRESENT THROUGHOUT


Star Wars: The Last Jedi is a bit messy, entertaining, oddly paced, and gets pretty meta. It also manages to pull off being very derivative while also functioning as a deconstruction of the original trilogy. It isn't hard to see why the film has been polarizing among fans, particularly the bigger, more die hard ones. Sometimes, it feels like writer/director Rian Johnson is even trolling them. Much of how one views it might boil down to how seriously they take classic Star Wars lore.

Characters are noticeably improved upon from The Force Awakens. Poe Dameron gets a substantial arc this time, as they somehow manage to balance his Luke/Han hybrid persona. (Arguably, he comes off more as a Han Solo type here, but there's still a little Luke in him.) Rey gets more meat here as well, largely because of her connection to Kylo Ren. These two characters work so well together, making each other more interesting. Leia and Luke, obviously, get more to do, too. Luke sort of reverts back to his self-absorbed nature we saw at the beginning of A New Hope, mixed with a little bit of cranky curmudgeon Yoda for good measure. A few new characters are introduced, but don't ultimately leave much of an impact.

It suffers some typical late-Star Wars structure issues, namely the need to split up into too many separate story threads at once. At one point, there are four completely separate plot threads occurring, and none of them reconnect particularly well. Pacing is also an issue. The Rebel fleet moving just out of range of the Star Destroyers lasts for a shockingly long duration of the two and a half hour film. The entire final sequence - while certainly awesome in many ways - also drags on a bit too long for its own good. And everything with Finn and Rose, and their overly convoluted plan, feels a bit disruptive.

Like its predecessor, this installment borrows a ton of beats and visual references from the original trilogy. They move pieces around a little bit - the "join me to rule the galaxy" happens before the final act, the Hoth battle happens at the end, we begin the film with the Rebels evacuating their base rather than by the end of the first act - but it largely takes a lot from past films. It's hard not to see where it's referencing the originals, and can sometimes induce a good eye-rolling.

However, where it comes off differently than The Force Awakens - and undoubtedly what many fans will get held up on - is in its function. JJ Abrams specifically structured his film as something of a Star Wars Greatest Hits because he was trying to capture the original's feel; to distance the new trilogy from the divisive prequel trilogy. Johnson, however, often uses these things to break down and deconstruct the preconceived expectations of fans.

Take, for instance, the big reveal regarding Rey's parents. One look at an internet comment section will show just how controversial the answer to this is. During the conversation between Rey and Kylo Ren at the climactic Good/Evil Force battle, like with Empire Strikes Back, we get a lineage revelation. We find out that Rey's parents were actually nobodies - some junkies who sold her off for a quick fix. To the biggest Star Wars fans, this feels like a total affront to the nature of the universe. For a long time, bloodlines have mattered a great deal. The prequels didn't help matters much by suggesting the Force is related to one's literal blood cells, thus making it evidently genetic. For the past two years, all we heard was how Rey had to be connected to some powerful Force user, like a Skywalker or a Kenobi, because that was the only way to explain why she was so quickly able to utilize its abilities. Here, we are told her parents are no one of any significance. "You have no place in this story," Kylo tells her.

This is presumably where many hardcore fans will get off. For so long, randomness has been absent in the Star Wars universe. As Obi-Wan said in A New Hope, "there's no such thing as luck." Destiny and prophesies, Chosen Ones, and balance was always preached. But that wasn't the case at the beginning.

When you go back and watch A New Hope, you can't help but realize how it is constructed to be a stand-alone film. Try to forget everything we know that happens after.  Luke is plucked from obscurity to go on and do great things. Sure, we learn that his father was a Jedi, but we know nothing else. At this point, we don't know he was Vader's son (and I'm still unconvinced Lucas did at this point either). We also know nothing of midichlorians in the blood. While training on board the Falcon, Obi-Wan says that the Force is what binds all living things together in the universe, implying that anyone can access it. Luke gets to obtain Force abilities in that film because he is the central protagonist undergoing the hero's journey. He isn't actually fated to do anything. In fact, Obi-Wan never makes him leave Tatooine. He's prepared to leave without Luke, until the Empire kills his family and takes away the only reason he had to stay.

The Last Jedi serves to remove all of that "destiny" stuff. Rey's lineage doesn't matter. She wants her parents to be special because we all want to feel special, to feel destined for greatness. Somehow, her parents being "somebodies" would put context on her place in the world. Sure, it creates more forced connections among characters, but the entire point of this trilogy is to get away from Skywalkers. It's to open up the doors for new Star Wars.  Kylo Ren isn't just talking to Rey when he says, "The Empire, your parents, the Resistance, the Sith, the Jedi...let the past die. Kill it, if you have to. That's the only way to become what you are meant to be."

This is ultimately the central theme of the new trilogy. It's really a series about fans. You've got Kylo Ren who wants to kill the past, and then you've got Luke Skywalker reaffirming that the past can never truly be killed. "Strike me down in anger," he tells his nephew, "and I'll always be with you. Like your father." On the meta-narrative level, this appears to obviously refer to fanboys. You've got some who have been railing against George Lucas for years because of the prequels, and you've got some who have been reaming Disney as well. No one hates Star Wars quite like Star Wars fans. No matter how much fans might try to disown the prequels, or how much they might hate the current trilogy, Star Wars is still clearly a part of their lives. The prequels didn't actually ruin anyone's childhood. The message here is that we can move forward without giving up the past. It is part of us, but it does not need to control us. This idea is also reinforced through Luke and Yoda's belief that the time has come for the Jedi Order to end (wait...was...was Count Dooku the good guy in the prequels?). It both gives us one last awesome Luke Skywalker moment (preserving elements of the past) while depicting the destruction of the Skywalker family lightsaber (letting go of others). (Subtlety has never really been Star Wars's forte.)

It is also worth taking a step back to re-examine The Force Awakens in this light. In essence, Kylo Ren and Rey - the two main characters - are themselves Star Wars fans. Consider the fact that when we are introduced to Rey, she is literally playing with a homemade Luke Skywalker action figure. She wears a Rebel helmet. It is clear that she has heard all of the stories about Han Solo and Luke Skywalker. She is, herself, a fangirl. The same is true of Kylo Ren. From his basic costume design, we can see a Vader influence. The black helmet, despite no scarring, and the vocal distortion all serve as examples of his fandom. At one point, we even see him talking to Vader's charred helmet. Where Rey is obsessed with the adventures of Luke, Kylo Ren is absorbed in the stories of Darth Vader. Rey hopes to fulfill a Luke-like role, while Kylo Ren spends the whole film trying to be the next Vader.

This theme also re-contextualizes all of the arguments about Rey being a Mary Sue character. Apart from those comments showing a slight misunderstanding of what actually makes one a Mary Sue exactly, it ignores the fact that this new generation of Star Wars characters - like us - grew up on Star Wars stories. Rey knows a lot because she - like us - is obsessed. One can only imagine how many times a Star Wars fan has "well, actually"-ed George Lucas. I mean, how many fans have wound up learning more about why Han Solo claimed the Falcon made the Kessel run in twelve par secs than what a par sec actually is in the first place? Any amount of time spent in nerd circles will reveal a number of hardcore fans presenting elaborate, highly specific questions posed to creators who often don't know the answers themselves. This does work in the context of this modern trilogy because this is the central theme. The current Star Wars trilogy is subtextually about fandom.

Many will still argue that Rey's parentage is structurally weak because they built it up in The Force Awakens as this huge mystery. It was all anyone could talk about for the past two years. To set up this big mystery, only to say that it doesn't matter, feels cheap. It feels like cheating. Certainly, people are entitled to that opinion, and it is not an unreasonable take. However, how much of these mysteries were actually established within the confines of The Force Awakens as a film? We wonder who Rey's parents are because she has never known them, and because there are a couple of occasions in which a character asks who the girl is before cutting away without an answer. These obviously make it seem like that matters.

But The Force Awakens kind of spells out how silly we are for making a big deal about it. Maz suggests Rey knows the truth about her parents, and that they aren't coming back (read: it doesn't matter now.) She even puts it pretty concisely, "The belonging you seek is not behind you, but in front."

It could not be more clear. Though there is value to remembering the past, we are not beholden to it. This trilogy gets back to what kicked off the franchise: it isn't about destiny and prophesy, it isn't about privileged bloodlines. It is a hero's journey for a new generation who grew up on tales of the past, just like Luke did. The Last Jedi serves to deconstruct the fandom. Rey's parentage is only a mystery that matters because we made it matter. Her parents don't matter to this story. The only thing her being a child of Luke would do is add some additional connection between her and Kylo Ren, but they're intrinsically connected by the Force anyway that it doesn't matter. Her being a child of Obi-Wan (as was occasionally theorized) matters even less. It "explains" her abilities with the Force, but only for those obsessed with canon and the expanded universe.

The same thing is true of Snoke. Many fans have complained that he also turned out to be nobody. And yet, The Force Awakens makes his backstory seem even less significant. What his origin story is literally does not matter to the story they are telling. He fulfills the role of a modern Emperor Palpatine. No one wondered about Palpatine's backstory when he first shows up in The Empire Strikes Back. We know everything we need to know for that story: he is in charge of the bad guys, he is powerful with the Force, and he managed to convert Anakin Skywalker. That's it. We genuinely did not need an entire seven hours in prequel films to explain more details. We know that backstory is unnecessary because we survived for over a decade without it. It fills out the expanded universe and the larger lore, sure, but it is virtually unimportant to the main story or the primary themes of the original trilogy.

Moreso than Rey's lineage, the mystery of who Snoke "really was" turned into a two-year debate exclusively because of the fans. Some will argue that given the "rule of two" as established in the original and prequel trilogies, Snoke couldn't have existed. How could there have been this third super powerful Force user on the Dark Side if there were already Palpatine and Maul, followed by Palpatine and Dooku, and then Palpatine and Vader? Thing is, it is pretty well established that the Force is accessible to many people. The current trilogy has already set up that just about anyone can become in tune with it (see: Rey, or the boy at the end of The Last Jedi), regardless of bloodline. (This itself is both canonically reasonable and creatively liberating for writers, by the way.) We also know the Knights of Ren are a group of Dark Side Force users, so there can, in fact, be multiple Dark Side users in existence (which was also true in the expanded universe, not that that matters). Is it really so unbelievable that Snoke was just a Force-sensitive nobody during the previous trilogies, who became more powerful over time and then took advantage of the power vacuum left by the Emperor's demise?

In fact, Snoke being a nobody is absolutely thematically relevant. This trilogy is all about giving new characters a chance to enter the fray, to send a message that anyone can be empowered to rise above their station. Snoke being a nobody who rose to prominence in the decades after Return of the Jedi thematically connects to Rey's rise as well. Sure, if you hate that Rey is a nobody who is powerful with the Force, you're going to hate the same thing being true of Snoke, but you can't ignore that this is consistent within the context of the films they are making.

Rian Johnson deliberately subverted expectations. Aware of what the conversations were, he chose a path in which no one was right in order to push the universe forward. Star Wars cannot continue as a film series if every film, every character, and every plot point has to somehow connect to the original trilogy. He and Abrams wanted to make something new while honoring the old, and you can't do that if nothing is ever going to be more important than the original. The future is built upon the past, but is not beholden to it. (In some ways, they seem to argue that obsession over order makes some fans similar to the First Order.)

This theme is also embodied through Luke's story. Like Kylo Ren, he opts to disown the past. Though also like his nephew, he still struggles with it. He spends much of the movie refusing to be the person he was in his previous arc. He, too, doesn't just address Rey when he says, "What did you think was going to happen?" He then describes a hypothetical situation in which Rey, being a fan, expected him to pick up his "laser sword," march on out there, and take on the whole First Order himself. It felt a bit like many fans wanted to see something similar, which might have been kind of neat fan service, but would not have been very compelling cinema. It is only at the end that he recognizes that renewing past legends will do more good than he can do now as an aging Jedi Knight.

You've got characters desperate to kill the past and characters aching to preserve it. Yet the film argues, like the Force itself, balance is important. The more Kylo Ren tries to escape the past by destroying it, the deeper he falls into the Dark Side. Conversely, Rey can't reach her full potential as a Jedi if she continues to obsess about her own past. Where Rey sees more upside is that she appears poised to find that balance. (Given the nature of Star Wars, it seems likely that Rey will complete her Jedi quest by letting go of her lineage hang-ups, while she also preserved the sacred Jedi texts that were destroyed. Seems likely this is where her arc goes.)

There are other things the film addresses, certainly to the chagrin of many fans. We do sort of get an explanation as to why Rey is so in tune with the Force, though many probably hate it. One of the biggest concepts talked about ad nauseum in the previous six films was "balance to the Force." No one has ever really known what that meant. Snoke specifically tells Rey that he warned Kylo Ren that the stronger he became, the more likely an equal power from the Light Side would rise up to meet him (balance). He thought it would be Luke, but it turned out it was her.

Criticism of this approach to balance is understandable, but it cannot be said that they don't attempt to explain it. Fans unsatisfied by the answer is not the same thing as the filmmakers not trying to answer. This concept further enhances the connection between Kylo and Rey (in a more interesting way than if it had turned out they were cousins). It also explains why Kylo Ren often appears more in control of the Force. For as much as people complain about Rey being too powerful, she is often depicted as becoming more unstable and unpredictable the more she taps into that power. She can do things other Jedi might not be able to, but she doesn't ultimately know how or why, and it comes at a greater risk.

The entire point of this trilogy is to move away from the Elites of the Star Wars universe. Consider that the prequels were about a literal messianic figure of a virgin birth, who falls in love with a princess, and drama unfolds. Then recall that the original trilogy is about the son of that messianic figure off to rescue a princess, who happens to be his sister. And then consider that the major drama set up in this new trilogy is about the nephew of the Messiah's son falling victim to the Dark Side because his uncle became self-absorbed with his own reputation as a savior figure.

By virtue of Rey and Snoke being nobodies capable with the Force (in addition to other main characters like Finn or Rose being nobodies on their own mini-hero's journeys), the new trilogy almost appears to indicate that something new is happening with the Force itself. As if the Force were seeing some kind of...awakening...That Rey has become so powerful to act as a counterbalance to Kylo Ren, and that we see that kid at the end use the Force, suggests that something bigger is happening than just the classic Jedi/Sith battle that's lasted ages. (It's as if Benecio Del Toro wasn't just referring to the Empire/Rebellion war as a "machine" that generates tons of income for elite profiteers... "They blow you up today, you blow them up tomorrow." That can't be the formula for an indefinite future of Star Wars films. The DJ stuff is a more obvious meta-commentary about Hollywood franchises.)

And about the Force: without question, one of the biggest talking points will be Leia's moment. People seem to be in agreement that it was poorly executed (it was), but torn on the concept of it. Blown out into the vacuum of space, we see her use the Force to protect herself from the cold, then uses it to pull herself back to the ship. As many say, she had a Mary Poppins moment. Visually, it looks pretty silly. Conceptually, the idea of her using the Force to pull herself to safety is fine.

The common complaint is that it feels like they're just making up the Force as they go along. Easily one of the strangest criticisms, this ignores the rich history of making it up as they go. In the six previous films, they have - at random - decided the Force lets people read other people's minds, lets them control other people's minds, lifts objects, gives people physical balance, shoots lightning out of their hands, chokes people, creates force fields around them,  lets people jump really high, dash off with super speed, and literally become ghosts! They've always made it up on the fly. Frankly, we should embrace the limitless possibilities of the Force rather than restrict it. The more it gets concisely defined, the less interesting it is.

Johnson also subverts classic Hollywood storytelling as well. Many describe Finn and Rose's story thread as being completely unnecessary, primarily because they fail in the end. (This is, interestingly, not a complaint of Empire Strikes Back, wherein Luke fails in his plan when he goes to Cloud City.) Like in Empire Strikes Back, though, it isn't so concerned with the plot itself as much as the character and thematic moments. While pacing in Canto Bight is clunky, and it does come of as disruptive to the main story of the fleet battle, we need this to get more character growth for Finn. Rose might ultimately be a unnecessary to the larger plot, but she is absolutely necessary to giving Finn growth as a character. It is Rose who opens up his eyes to the larger impact of the First Order's spread, to show him that the evils of the universe are not restricted to just their domain. That inequality and oppression exists outside the confines of the new Empire. It is Rose who shows Finn a greater reason to fight beyond, "My friends are here." He was all set to abandon the Resistance in order to protect Rey. It is because of Rose that he learns that the cause is worthy to commit himself to.

Poe's story arc is interesting, but misses one key line of dialogue that would prevent the main complaint people have with it. Many have been quick to note that his entire story becomes unnecessary if Admiral Holdo just tells him the plan. Hard to argue that poor communication led to that mutiny. It was indeed an easily avoidable situation. Personally, it didn't bother me because I've had bosses who could have avoided a lot of drama if they just told me what was going on. Given that they do establish that there is a chain of command, and that she appears early to be into that, it can be understood that she felt no need to explain herself, that indeed constantly being questioned sets a bad precedent. Look at how the real life military works. You better believe no Admiral in the Navy is going to tolerate that kind of behavior from a subordinate. Additionally, I enjoyed the idea that not every rebel Admiral was perfect. Not everyone is great at everything, and the idea of an Admiral who did not feel compelled to explain her plans to everyone just sort of makes sense.

That said, this is also a problem easily avoidable. Recall that the only ones who seem to know how the Empire is tracking them through lightspeed are Finn and Rose (and later Poe when they tell him their plan). Admiral Holdo has virtually no information about that. For all she knows, there could be a spy on board transmitting their location. Given the plan was to create a distraction, one can easily see why she would not shout out these secret plans in front of everyone. This is not conveyed at all on screen, however. A simple one liner from someone about how there may be a spy on board would actually completely absolve this thread of such criticism.

There are plenty of smaller things. The humor feels a bit contrived at times, which many have used to criticize it comparatively to the original trilogy. On this point, I feel part of the issue is that modern Star Wars films see a lot of modern Hollywood filmmaking tropes and techniques. Some have claimed there was too much slapstick (I'm not sure I saw anything particularly "slapsticky" here, really), but it is worth keeping in mind that they are still attempting to make Star Wars accessible to children. We adult fans cannot and should not lose sight of that. We loved Star Wars as children. That's sort of how we all became grown up nerds. If today's generation of youth like a little more slapstick (which is completely fine!), then it makes sense for them to include perhaps a bit more of that element than we adults might prefer.

I have to admit, The Last Jedi drew a very noncommittal response upon first viewing. I felt fine about it. Didn't love it; didn't hate it. It was fine. I had more complaints than praises. However, once it clicked upon review what the film was doing, how meta it was actually being, and what themes it was tackling, everything just worked a lot more. It completely re-contextualized everything both in this film and The Force Awakens. Two films in which, especially with the specifics of this one, we have a clearer image of what they're attempting.

If you can heed the advice of Jedi Masters, who essentially preach the need to just chill and relax, The Last Jedi might very well be the smartest, most complex, and most thematically ambitious Star Wars to date. Let go of your anger. Find that balance of the past and future. And just enjoy it, man. This is by no means as bad as the prequels, but honestly? If you enjoyed the prequels, great! The originals will always be part of our lives. We can watch them again at any time we want. That can and should be enough.

Anything else is just a nice benefit.

Friday, December 15, 2017

Resident Evil VII (2017)



Survival horror has seen a bit of a comeback in recent years. It is a bit hard to look at Resident Evil 7: Biohazard without seeing influence of other popular games like Alien: Isolation or the incredibly horrifying experience that was P.T.

Visually, it appears to take a lot of cues from Hideo Kojima's brilliant P.T. With a slow-moving character in the first person perspective, players must cautiously explore the creepy, disquieting Baker family mansion. Obviously, where it deviates is in the gameplay. P.T. was meant to be a single, relatively quick interactive experience. Because they wanted to make the game as horrifying as possible, they needed it to be quick. Designers have to create a delicate balance with horror games. Make it too scary; players are liable to drop out and stop playing. You want the game to be frightening, but not so much that players don't want to keep going for fifteen hours. So, P.T. can be completed within an hour, which is perfect.

Resident Evil 7 is a relatively short game itself, capable of being finished in anywhere from eight to twelve hours. That's actually a pretty good duration for it, frankly. (I enjoyed the game quite a bit, but was glad to be done playing it by the time the credits rolled.) The pacing is solid, with stretches being incredibly tense and slow-going - particularly when a member of the Baker family is giving chase - but also periods of relative calm and quiet, allowing players to explore with only the occasional run-in with the Molded monsters.

In terms of the gameplay, it might be more appropriate to compare it to Alien: Isolation. To be completely fair, these games do different things for different goals, and any comparison isn't an exact 1-to-1 situation. Still, the similarities are noticeable. First person shooter in which a big, bad, indestructible enemy will give chase while you find your way through the map. Instead of a xenomorph stalking you through the levels, it's Jack or Marguerite. You can't kill them, although you can inflict enough damage to take Jack down for a few moments. Instead, you have to try and escape their notice while advancing through the level. You also collect items that you can combine to create useful resources.

None of this is pioneered by Alien: Isolation, of course. And this is where the two games really diverge. Alien: Isolation does a good job balancing a sense of powerlessness against the alien with the empowerment of objects you can create and deploy to distract it. It's always tense, but there's always a variation of actions you can take. Resident Evil 7 leans more to the tension in powerlessness. There isn't a whole lot you can do. You walk and even run slowly. Ammunition is limited, so every shot feels significant. (There is no worse feeling than completely whiffing on a head shot.) The materials you can craft primarily contribute to boosting a few stats or creating special ammo. Otherwise, it's largely just a shooter.

This isn't inherently a bad thing, obviously. Again, different games doing different things. The more player actions in Alien: Isolation allows the game to be a little more interactive and, thus, a little more fun. It's tense, scary, and entertaining while Resident Evil 7 is mostly just tense and scary - which means the game is successful at what it does. It's hard to fault anyone who subsequently finds the gameplay a bit boring, but these elements work to creating the atmosphere of terror and intensity. Late in the game, it sort of devolves into a bit of a generic first person shooter, but because it lacks the speed and smoothness of an action game in order to achieve its tension, it still feels overwhelming to be shooting at multiple enemies.

However, there is one aspect of Alien: Isolation has that makes it a better horror game overall: randomization. Sure, there are certain stretches in which Resident Evil 7 randomizes where one of the Bakers is, but overall, every level is the same. It's the same layout with the same enemies spawning at the same locations. This effectively means that each level is intimidating...once. Running through the basement of the main house for the first time is suspenseful and scary. You don't know when and where Molded will come out from. When they suddenly drop from the ceiling right as you enter the door, it is startling and will force you to react quickly. It's great! But if you manage to get killed and have to restart (or if you run out of ammo and have to restart - since there's no real way to actually take out Molded with your knife, even on "easy"), well, the second time through is substantially less tense. You can take it slow, but you still know where everything is. You can plan a lot more effectively, and the sense of fear is completely removed.

Boss fights are another area where this can be a problem. Firstly, the controls work for the normal levels, but their clunkiness doesn't really feel at home facing off against the bosses. Often, they feel designed for normal FPS mechanics, which the game doesn't have because the ordinary levels are designed for the slow, tense, survival-horror mechanics. The bosses are there because it's a video game and there needs to be bosses, but it can easily feel like you're fighting the controls more than the enemy (especially in most of the Jack fights). Horror games lose something when that fear turns into confusion as to what to do, which turns into frustration. Constantly repeating fights goes a long way to removing the terror from the game.

Alien: Isolation avoids both of these issues. It doesn't have traditional "boss fights" at all. Easy fix to that one. And while many stretches of Sevastapol have the same enemy lay-out (a section, for example, will always have X number of androids in one room, or the same humans show up in another room), but the xenomorph appears at random. You can get a sense of where it tends to show up more frequently, and you can help yourself by keeping tabs on the vents and ducts, but even when you know it can show up, you never really know when it will, or where it will. Repeating the same stretches still feels tense because of this randomization, which is relatively constant through the entire game, save the early part and a few small stretches later. In essence, if Resident Evil 7 is a tad scarier upon initial playthrough (and I think it is), Alien: Isolation retains that tense atmosphere upon repeated playthroughs.

The story of Resident Evil 7 is somewhat forgettable. One doesn't exactly pick this game up for its narrative. Perhaps the worst thing it does is leave one plot thread dangling so openly for some DLC that it feels a bit sleazy. It doesn't help that that particular thread is kind of uninteresting, and that the character in question isn't exactly a presence throughout the game. Players might even struggle to remember that there was no conclusion to his storyline, which, for as blatantly as they did that for DLC, is indicative of poor execution. Watching video tapes is an interesting, yet confusing addition. Occasionally, you will find a VHS tape and can pop it into a VCR to play a new level of someone apparently holding a video camera. These can be tense moments given no one has any items, so you are completely defenseless. Still, in terms of the narrative, it makes no sense. If you are watching the tapes as Ethan, why do you then have to play the tapes as the player? More, why is it possible to fail and effectively get a "Game Over" screen during one of these side quests? They try to use the tapes as quasi-puzzle solutions, to inform players of where to go next, but it still feels unnecessary and often tedious.

One area the game excels generally is in its implementation of VR. Unlike most games, which incorporate only a few levels for the virtual reality experience, Capcom opted to make the entirety of Resident Evil 7 playable in VR. The game overall relies too often on Hollywood jump scares, which is actually pretty annoying, but it's still extremely discomforting to walk around the Baker house in the VR environment. Honestly, I had to stop with the VR after the first hour because it was borderline traumatizing. It really highlights the potential of the technology for particular experiences. The graphics for VR still aren't great enough to merit being the preferred way to play, but if it's possible to experience a little bit of it, definitely give it a shot!

I've never played any other game in the franchise, other than a little bit of Resident Evil 4, so I have nothing to offer in regards to its standing in the series. It is a solid survival horror game that has a number of noticeable flaws, but still succeeds in creating tense moments. It isn't amazing or anything, but it is easily a good choice if you're looking to pick up a spooky game for Halloween.

REDUCTIVE RATING: It's Fine.



Sunday, December 3, 2017

Cuphead (2017)




, I decided to make the review of Cuphead a more time-consuming one to do. Instead of a too-wordy and incoherent written review, here's a ten minute video analysis.