MONDOmagazine

The Longest Journey
FunCom, 2000

By Diana Poulsen

I felt that itch, one I hadn’t felt in years. It just wouldn’t go away and it could only be filled by one thing… After about eight years I finally decided to return to PC gaming, in particular adventure gaming. I am not sure why I felt this need — but I was drawn to The Longest Journey. Despite the fact that it had won numerous awards I had never heard of it until I saw the box at the store and thought, “Okay, I’ll give that a go.” Read the rest of this entry »

A Poetry Review

By Siobhan Mildred Watters

Sunnyoutside aptly calls itself an ‘independent publisher.’ A small business coming from humble beginnings as on online literary journal, Sunnyoutside was founded by Dave McNamara. McNamara got back to basics, establishing himself as a print publisher in 2005. The Somerville, Massachusetts-born, Buffalo-based company boasts of not one, but two, printing presses.

Sunnyoutside recently released two collections of poetry, The Sea Never Drowns by Jason Heroux and Diminishing Returns by Karl Koweski, each under 50 pages. McNamara designed the books and gives us a brief description of his font choices in the colophon at the conclusion of each text. A colophon is featured in most books, true, but one gets the feeling that McNamara is passionate about his design.

The Sea That Never Drowns
by Jason Heroux
Sunnyoutside, $10

Kingston, Ontario civil servant/poet Heroux brings us morose, city-worn poetry in his most recent release, The Sea Never Drowns. Upon my first reading of Heroux’s verse, I was struck by his reliance on simile to convey meaning. Taking the work in holistically—I am under the impression that these poems are collected under one name for a reason—the poems are structurally repetitive. However, when reading each poem as alien to another, I found myself able to bench my previous criticism, even saying Oh yeah, rain puddles do look “like expired mirrors/slowly lowered down/into their little graves” (from “Rue de la Quarantine”). Jason Heroux has a unique way of looking at the world, marked by sensory imagery and bittersweet—maybe just bitter—observations. Anyone leading the ordinary, workaday life, possessing the ability to look at things objectively, will see truth and familiarity in Heroux’s weary world. Comes with a beautiful cardstock cover featuring a watercolour illustration by artist Doni Connor.

Diminishing Returns
by Karl Koweski
Sunnyoutside, $8

With Koweski’s Diminishing Returns, the reader is quickly associated with the poet, almost certainly the “I” narrator of each poem. The poet’s self-expression is even made visual in the cover photograph—a black and white of a trailer, door open—credited to Koweski. Considering Koweski’s style, I immediately suspected that the poet has an interest in the late Charles Bukowski. Horse and whore references aside, my suspicions were confirmed in “My Literary Domestication”—a great poem that describes Koweski’s lost connection to literary heroes like Bukowski and Kerouac as he settled into married life. Koweski’s brutally honest take on life, wife, sex, debauchery, and children (naturally) is smart and witty. Whether the poetic tales are fact or fable, one never questions the existence of that person or moment somewhere in this world or somewhere in time. Notable in the collection is the title poem, “Diminishing Returns”, which describes the juxtaposition of the past and present of a Wild West theme town, and of a boy’s naiveté and man’s cynicism. The poem, harsh to begin, ends with a tender note rare amongst Koweski’s other work.

The Ladies Only List

By Meghan O’Keefe

Confession time. When I received word that I would have to make a list of my Top Ten DCU characters, I panicked. See, as much as I love my comic books, I am unabashedly a Marvel Girl. Sure, I pick up Fables and various BKV or Alan Moore titles from Vertigo, but I don’t read DC comics — even though it was the Batman- and Superman-flavoured TV shows and movies that spurred my imagination while growing up.

But then, I realized something: characters like Catwoman and Lois Lane have always been intensely important to me, even if I don’t know what they’re up to in present day DCU. And I think that early inspiration may be just as worthy as a valuation of current plot developments. So here’s my all-girl Top 10 character list.

10. Chase Meridian
I know she’s not a comic book character; she’s a Batman movie love interest. That being said, she is by far and away my favorite of all the women to carry the mantle of “Batman’s Love Interest for the Sake of Pleasing a Wider Female Target Audience.” I really don’t care about Vicki Vale, Rachel Dawson, or the myriad of what’s-her-names that have made-out with Batman over the years. On paper, Chase is similar to the other love interests: intelligent, beautiful and non-threatening. That all changed when Nicole Kidman stepped into the role and turned her into a sexually confident, gothic babe with a kick-boxing hobby and Batman fetish (more than intrigued, she’s physically bent on conquering the caped crusader). So, I suppose I’m applauding an actress more than a DCU canon character, but I feel that if more of “Batman’s Love Interest for the Sake of Pleasing a Wider Female Target Audience” were written with the same perversity, Bruce Wayne would be far more likely to finally settle down with a gal who gets his freakish ways.

9. Huntress (Helena Bertinelli / Helena Wayne)
Personally, I prefer the version where she’s Batman and Catwoman’s daughter, but that’s merely because I’m a romantic with a sick obsession with doomed relationships. That crazy warped universe version aside, no matter what her back story is, Huntress is one tough broad that’s always to be admired.

8. Black Canary (Dinah Lance)
Okay, need I explain? She’s just too damned fun, sexy, cool, etc. Yeah, I really don’t have to explain.

7. Oracle
But wait! Batgirl’s already on this list! Yes, she is, but to me, the Barbara Gordon who lived before being crippled by Joker is very different from the heroine afterwards. I can’t stress how important it is to show girls that even if they have been hurt, physically or emotionally, it doesn’t mean that they can’t still fight the good fight, and Oracle exemplifies this.

6. Poison Ivy (Pamela Isley)
For a while, growing up, I favoured Poison Ivy over Catwoman. For some reason, at the age of nine, her devotion to botany seemed to make up for any of her criminal master plans. She never seemed as evil as, say, the Penguin or the Riddler. But regardless, the thing that I liked most about her was that her greatest weapon was her brain.

5. Harley Quinn (Harleen Quinzel)

I adore Harleen Quinzel. She’s one of those characters who can only exist in Batman, balancing bone-chilling psychosis with winsome wit and charm. I sincerely hope that Nolan puts some hint of Harlequin in The Dark Knight—especially because it would be so easy to explain her dependency on the Joker if she had worked under the Scarecrow’s reign at Arkham Asylum.4. Wonder Woman (Diana Prince)
Arguably the first superheroine of any impact, Wonder Woman is DC’s great gift to 20th century feminism. She possesses all of the charms that a woman is supposed to traditionally have, but she kicks ass next to the guys, too. She stands side by side with Superman and Batman as DC’s great triumvirate of heroes, and while Ms. Marvel and Spider-woman have had their places on the Avengers’ roster, neither of them have held their roles with endurance, nor are they characters unto themselves. There is no Wonder Man from which Wonder Woman’s name and powers come from, she is simply in a class by herself.

3. Batgirl (Barbara Gordon)

Batgirl — in particular the Adam West TV show Batgirl — is particularly important to me. I can think of no greater wish fulfillment for a nerdy girl than to see a mousy librarian transform into a glamorous, flame-haired babe who is capable of saving Batman all by herself. In fact, much of my own personal evolution from shy dork to globe-trotting, auburn-haired improv comedienne probably owes a lot to Barbara Gordon. It’s more of an emotional than intellectual affinity I feel for her, but I don’t think this makes it any less meaningful.

2. Lois Lane
Lois Lane is the Elizabeth Bennett of comic books. She’s an intelligent, ambitious woman who doesn’t value being a wilting flower in the face of adversity — oh, and she’s got the unwavering love of the most eligible man in town (even if she can’t see it). Her tenacity is what makes her both maddening and appealing. She’s the kind of heroine that epitomizes the feminist revolution of the 20th century, and since his first appearance in print, Superman has been wrapped around her finger.

1. Catwoman (Selina Kyle)
One of the biggest fears that lurks in the minds of modern women is that they will grow up to become the crazy cat-lady. Selena Kyle is an unmarried, mentally unstable woman surrounded by felines, but I don’t think any woman would fear becoming her. No matter how she is portrayed, whether it’s a cartooned vamp or a purring Eartha Kitt, Catwoman has always been the one woman to hold the indomitable Batman in her thrall. Her combination of power, sensuality and cunning doesn’t make her a role model the way Wonder Woman might be, but a fantasy that appeals to men and women alike. She’s dangerous, but also vulnerable and redeemable, and that is the elusive cocktail that makes her so darn lovable.

The Marvel Zombies List

By Miles Baker

I like Marvel Comics. I think they’re a better line of comics than DC in every way possible. But, I will freely admit that DC was my gateway into the world of comic geekdom. I will also admit that I’ve read some great DC comics with great characters. But you will notice that this list is Bat-heavy. I make no apologies for my lack of knowledge about the DCU, because Marvel is far more worth knowing. [Editor's note: Wow. Okay...]

Suck it. [Editor's note: Um...wow.]

10. The KGBeast
You really know how to design ‘em, eh DC. Cyborg eye, big knife hand, hilarious name combination proving the Soviets’ sense of humour. Okay, I swear the rest of the list will be actually good characters.

9. The Spirit
I don’t know if this one should count, because DC didn’t even exist when he was created and just kinda publishes this character now, but the current incarnation of the Spirit is great. He’s great because he’s got a nice mix of funny, smarts, and stupid. I love that he makes a lot of mistakes and will, on occasion, get his ass handed to him. Thinking that your main character can actually fail is a rare thing in modern comics.

8. Batman (Bruce Wayne)
My mother delights in telling anyone I bring home — friends, girlfriends, financiers — about how I used to run around in nothing but a home made Batman cape and cowl. So, suffice to say, Batman and I go way back. The problem with his character is that he’s an icon and not a character, meaning that there has been little, if any, character development for Batman. Just phases based on creators. But check out Batman: Year One because it’s very good character work.

7. Captain Cold (Who the fuck knows)
The Flash has some of the funniest-looking villains of all time. Characters like The Top, or the Pied Piper strike fear into the heart of no one. Captain Cold and his little blue parka were similarly ridiculous and hilarious, but when Geoff Johns got a hold of the Rogues he did something marvelous: he made them menacing. The top of the pack was Captain Cold, leader of the Rogues, with his strict “no drugs” policy. He is a good leader and a great foil.

6. Slam Bradley
I love me a good detective. Especially one that’s in love with a thief (in this case, Catwoman). That’s our Slam. My favourite moment of his occurs early-ish in Ed Brubaker’s run on Catwoman when he calls out Batman. He questions the Bat about his relationship with Selena and then goes on to get the biggest beating of his life — but he just kept getting back up. And landing a cheap one on Batman is always good for a laugh.

5. Barbara Gordon
So much more useful as a computer nerd than a crime fighter. I heard there were plans to give her use of her legs back and that she’d don the Batgirl costume again, but then people were like, “Are you nuts? Babs is way better as the only female in comics who does more damage in a wheelchair than the vast majority of comic characters.” They might not have said all that, but that is what they meant.

4. Nightwing (Richard Grayson)

Now that he’s cut off his ponytail, it’s a lot easier to like Nightwing. That was a seriously good move. And despite my blasting of his comic in a recent “Random Comic of the Week” I really do like that he has a solo book; he’s certainly earned it. I should go hunting for some of his trades. Yes. I will do that now. 3. The Flash (Wally West)
No one was more surprised that I like the Flash than I was. I don’t know why, but he had never interested me. I didn’t know anything about the Flash line, hell, I didn’t even know there was a Flash line. But there is and it’s super interesting. While I think Geoff Johns ruined the end of his own run with a Disneyland-happy ending that robbed his previous stories of their weight and made me barf three times, it was overall a great book and I still have affection for the Scarlet Speedster.

2. The cast of Gotham Central
I don’t think anyone can deny that this book was just Homicide: Life on the Street set in Gotham City. There were even comparable characters. Regardless, it was a great idea and the (extremely) large cast was interesting and complex. It’s almost a shame that the series followed Montoya and Allen so closely, because the other characters could easily carry a book. (It’s also a shame that subsequent storylines have tainted Montoya and Allen, but I digress.)

1. Robin (Tim Drake)
Tim Drake is the reason I read comics today. Yes, I was more often Batman for Halloween, but I’ve never cared as much about Batman’s problems as I have about Tim’s. I first read him as a ten-year old in his third miniseries, Robin III: Cry of the Huntress. His problems were exciting, his costume was cool, and he got to hang out with and defy Batman. And I got to grow up with him in real time. He was a few years older than me, so got to do the things I was excited about doing, like having a first girlfriend and driving a car (Batman bought Tim a car for his 16th birthday — it was awesome). I’ve loosely followed his career since then and he seems to have retained a lot of his admirable qualities. I wish him a long, healthy comic life.

Hauschka and John Kameel Farah
as part of the Pop Avant Series
at the Music Gallery
Friday, November 2, 2007

by Allana Mayer

Attending the Music Gallery for the piano/electronic composers’ night was reassuring. Abstract artists get a lot of flack for pissing on canvases or breaking guitars and calling it art, so it’s nice when forms can be found; when there are indeed methods to the madness, and it’s revealed that these methods are simply so complex as to seem random….

It was reassuring to hear the few mistakes Hauschka did make, a few finger slips to the wrong keys that didn’t repeat themselves in his endless rounds. It meant Hauschka (the recording name of Volker Bertelmann of Germany) had a form in mind, something specific to not deviate from. His songs had mostly energetic tempos, and varying dynamics. Stark silences were only used between especially powerful notes.

What characterized the performance was the bizarre accompaniment to it all, which you couldn’t really understand the source of, until you looked closely at the projection of the camera, trained on the strings inside Hauschka’s open piano case. There were sounds of tambourines, tuning forks, keys not hooked to strings hitting dead weights. At certain points it sounded simply like too much noise for one piano to produce, but it was all gaffer tape and bottlecaps, wedges of wood and bizarre little tchotchkes. We actually watched as he performed the ceremonial ripping off of tape for one song, flinging found objects left and right between sections of the song’s melody, letting them drop with audible plinks, bracketing the silence between phrases.

At the beginning of the next piece we watched as he duct-taped entire sections of string together and down, then readjusted for notes whose pitches had been bent too far. He played something lightning-quick with his new harpsichord-like sound. Despite his junkyard appeal, in his bizarre suit with coloured piping and his Beethoven-ish hair he managed to come off distinguished. Much applause was deserved, not just because the entire show was being recorded for CBC Radio.

Toronto’s John Kameel Farah came out timidly, modestly, but was compelling to watch. He moved his head lyrically, keeping a tense face during his entire performance, to match the tension in the minor key he played to open. Slow and sensual beginnings suddenly broke with a deep house beat and bassline. He moved from grand piano to electronic keyboard, mixing board, and Macbook as an abstract black-and-white lightshow spun across the projection screen behind the stage.

Despite the massive volume and depth of the electronic beat, the piano was always centre stage, which I think kept the more mature audience members happy. The crowd was a healthy mix of these older patrons and young, asymmetrical-haired upstarts like me. The beats weren’t nearly as inspired as his live accompaniment, unfortunately. Most sounded elementary. Maybe Farah should investigate collaborations with producers rather than resorting to the DIY approach.

Some more unease resulted from too much separation, like entirely different songs pieced into each other, finding an uneasy mesh in the middle of your brain. Not only between the different chunks of song within an hour of constant playing, but between the simultaneous acoustic and electronic. It was often hard to hear the two distinct sections as a whole. But when he began humming, intoning, muttering the notes along with his fingers’ rhythm, for a moment there was an intense cerebral connection. You could imagine the music inside his body, forcing its way out. Yet it seems that deep house just isn’t what the Music Gallery crowd was there for, expecting academic music and getting something positively low-brow.

Once each performer had finished his solo set, they rejoined onstage for an improvised collaboration; Hauschka composed, Farah sweating and blushing. New gaffer tape put a mildly annoying reverb to Hauschka’s strings while Farah splayed quick scales up and down, and then added heavy chords. Somehow the two found a rhythm with each other. I had a hard time picking out one of them, and once they settled into it, they slowly faded the first piece away. Another piece was a messy series of dissonant staccatos, sort of a clunky old robot’s rhythm, as it whined and clambered. The two performers seemed to be passing messages through looks only, though I’m not sure what was said. The magic of live improvisation, I guess. Altogether, they were at their best when slow and sensitive, patiently playing whatever refrain they had created for themselves. Of the two, Hauschka’s set was far more intellectually stimulating, but Farah’s showed innovation as well, which is enough for the Pop Avant series.

By Miles Baker and Owen K. Craig

Each week we use random.org’s random integer generator to create two random numbers. They then count down on the release list until they find out their RANDOM COMIC OF THE WEEK! No matter what the publisher, what the issue, what the arc, we will be there reviewing things with little or no context.

Miles’ Book

Hellblazer #238
Written by Andy Diggle
Art by Danijel Zezelj
Vertigo, 2007

I was really surprised when I found out there were 238 unique issues of Hellblazer. I don’t know a damn thing about John Constantine or his hellblazing ways: I’ve never read the comic, I didn’t see the movie because it looked terrible, and no one I know has ever talked about the series in my presence — or if they did, I was thinking about candy. So, with that in mind, I really liked this issue.

Constantine travels in this issue to some shadowy London realm to save a small gang of teenagers from being killed by the things that don’t exist here, but do exist there. It’s hard to explain, but it’s pretty cool. The dark, magical world that Diggle and Zezelj craft, which I can only assume was deeply established by other writers and creators of Hellblazer, is compelling and allows for a lot of complicated magic stuffs. In particular, the character/entity of Map is really interesting and menacing. You don’t get a lot of character from Constantine in this issue other than that he’s smart and effin’ cool, although more the latter. For me, what made him cool was that he didn’t save the day with fisticuffs or a gun or anything like that (although he doesn’t really save the day at all) — he used his words. It’s a nice break from violence.

I feel conflicted about Zezelj’s art, I must say. It’s definitely a tone setter, but it’s also uneven. He uses a lot of heavy black ink, and while it works a lot of the time, sometimes it’s just too much and the characters look repulsive and flat. But I do like the feel it creates and how scary some of the characters look.

After this issue, I’m going to take a look at Hellblazer’s past. From the quick Wiki search I did of the book, it looks like it will be a pretty cool ride.

Read the rest of this entry »

By Diana Poulsen

This week I am celebrating my triumphant return to PC gaming. After about an eight year absence I have decided to return to my computer and catch up with some old PC friends. I can’t remember why I left the PC gaming scene. The last two games I played were Septerra Core and American McGee’s Alice, both bloody awesome games. I am still not sure why I decided to return now when I only have a 1.6 gzh Pentium 4 laptop with little to no graphics card. But on the bright side, I can play all sorts of old games and World of Warcraft.

I remember the good old days of little to no software security and no serial numbers. Where you had to uninstall and reinstall a game multiple times just to get it to function right. I had to install more RAM to get Alice to work, but once you got through the painful setup it was always a delightful experience. There was a certain level of satisfaction in getting the setup right. Of course, it’s not like that anymore.

I bought Black Mirror and spent almost two hours installing, and not the fun kind of installing. It involved typing in the five different serial numbers they gave me. And of course, it had to be the last one that worked. Just the processing of the different serial numbers took forever. Why did I need five? Couldn’t they just have given me one that worked? This was my frustrating introduction to StarForce, a copy-protection software that demands to check your game every single flippin’ time you play it, to determine if you have purchased it. It was very annoying to wait a minute or two to play the damn game just to wait for it to tell me that, yes, I had bought it. I couldn’t even get it to run on my DVD drive and I had to run it on my sub-par CD drive. It got to the point where I debated downloading an illegal copy so I could just play the stupid game I had paid for. It’s just like that time I bought Hawksley Workman’s Lover/Fighter CD and with all the copy protection it wouldn’t even play on my CD player or my Walkman. The CD worked perfectly on my PS2 — but that is not for playing music! I didn’t buy the (at the time) $400 machine to play bloody music. I had to try to download the songs after I bought the CD and I couldn’t even find the songs so I had to buy them off of Puretracks (the old Canadian version of iTunes). And after three years the Puretracks songs wouldn’t even play on my computer because they were copy protected! And StarForce is just as bad. On top of this, the strict copy protection on Black Mirror was there to protect the measley $9.99 I paid for the game.

Which brings me to BioShock. The PC version uses SecuROM, a copy-protection software requiring an internet connection to complete installation. The first issue might not be obvious here online, but not everyone has the internet. I used to live in a rural area where they only had dial-up, so I could understand if my neighbours chose not to have the internet. Beyond this initial leap of faith, BioShock has had numerous problems with its copy-protection software, to the point where some people have told me not to even bother with the PC version (not that I could run it anyway). It seems to be a bit weird to buy a game and only be able to install it five (originally it was two) times. If you needed it reinstalled six times you would have had to call SecuROM to re-activate your game. It also didn’t help that in certain manuals the phone number was misprinted. It’s such a shame to have to criticize a beautiful Art Deco First Person Shooter for their copy protection and bad planning.

When the copy protection interferes with the quality of the software or product then the company needs think of a better option. All of these copy-protection-related difficulties are driving me, someone who obtains all her digital media perfectly legally, to pirating. This is not what you want, software and music companies! I understand the need for copy protection. You simply might want to investigate how user-friendly it is – you know, so it doesn’t piss me off and drive me away from your product.

On the bright side, The Longest Journey (which I have a review for) did not require a serial number or have crazy copy protection. It worked perfectly on my computer and required only one attempt to successfully install it. Even for World of Warcraft, I just needed my single, working serial number and I was all set to go. See software companies? You can copy protect something, just make it so it works and doesn’t annoy the shit out of your customers.

This Is Not A Reading Series, St. Barnabas Anglican Church, 8pm
Tuesday, November 27, 2007

By Kerry Freek

This past Tuesday, amid a packed audience (obvious Eggers fans, predominantly early-to-mid 20s, roughly the same age the Sudan’s Lost Boys would be now), Dave Eggers (author of You Shall Know Our Velocity and founder of McSweeney’s) launched What is the What: The Autobiography of Valentino Achak Deng, at St. Barnabas Anglican Church. As part of Pages’ This Is Not A Reading Series (TINARS), Eggers didn’t read from his book, but rather discussed the four-year process of fictionalizing one man’s memories of growing up in civil war Sudan.

The word “autobiography” in the title is a bit liberal. Read like a novel (some nice prose, an interesting non-linear approach) and narrated by Deng (one of Sudan’s Lost Boys), the book is a blend of fact and fiction. A cool approach, I thought. But some reviewers were not pleased. “How strange for one man to think that he could write the story of another man — and then call it an autobiography,” wrote Lee Siegel of The New Republic. “Where is the dignity in that?”

Funny he should ask. As Eggers explained on Tuesday, in preparation for the book, he and Deng spent a great deal of time getting to know each other. Deng shared his memories, starting from patchy recollections of when the war began — at this time he was around seven or eight years old. To supplement these gaps and provide more context, Eggers pored over books and reports, and threaded Deng’s story with the coinciding war timeline as precisely as possible.

The two also took a trip to Sudan together, which required becoming official members of the Sudan People’s Liberation Army (SPLA) and finding an aid worker willing to fly them in from Nairobi. When they finally made it to Deng’s hometown, Marial Bai, they were greeted by several villagers — including Deng’s birth mother and father. After so many years they were reunited, each having thought the other was long since dead.

To top it off, the book is prefaced by Deng, who confirms that the story is a “work of art” — not necessarily strict fact, and definitely a collaboration of two minds. But no mention of his dignity being compromised; in fact, praise for Eggers for helping him share his story and raise funds for the Valentino Achak Deng Foundation.

The same reviewer called the book’s “innocent expropriation” of Deng’s story a “post-colonial arrogance — the most socially acceptable instance of Orientalism you are likely to encounter.” Now surely the book doesn’t fit within the technical confines of an “autobiography,” and it’s not entirely Deng’s personal story, but What is the What is an honest attempt to convey an approximation of what the Sudanese people endured (and now, as refugees in North America, endure). The approach is non-traditional and sort of experimental. But bringing Orientalism into the argument is missing the point. The fact remains that we learn through stories. And no matter how you slice it, Eggers’ stories appeal to young people with open minds and energy to act. On Tuesday night he helped educate a couple hundred people in Toronto about the very real atrocities of war. Many of us, I’m sure, had little-to-no prior experience learning about Sudan’s conflicts. Imagine not being informed on the topic of one of the worst wars of the 20th century — you probably don’t, do you? That’s probably more undignified than a well-written, well-researched novel.

The Mist
Directed by Frank Darabont
Darkwoods Productions, 2007

By Caesar Martini

The Mist is yet another one of Stephen King’s stories adapted to take life on the screen. This is usually a hit-and-miss process, because for every Green Mile or Shawshank Redemption (both directed by Frank Darabont) there seems to be two Dreamcatchers. Thankfully, Frank Darabont helms The Mist, so you can at least be assured that the director has a certain respect and affection for the subject matter.

The Mist is about a — uh, mist — that descends upon a sleepy little town after a big storm. But this is no ordinary mist, OH NO! It’s like the Devil’s fart! Except instead of being smelly, there are crazy demon creatures living in it. Giant bugs and hungry tentacles and such. The film mostly centres around David Drayton (Thomas Jane), an artist who is trapped in a shopping center with his young boy, a bunch of stupid people, a bunch of not-stupid people, and a psychotic, power-hungry, bible-thumping bitch from hell (Marcia Gay Harden). Drayton struggles to keep his son safe from both the monsters outside the stores and the humans within.

I thought The Mist was quite a good film until the last ten minutes or so. I enjoyed the whole mystery of it all, and the human dynamic of a bunch of frightened people all gathered together in one place. The movie succeeds in providing some genuine suspenseful moments and scares, unlike a lot of movies that only succeed in scaring you because they abruptly pop something up on the screen and turn the volume up to eleven. The creatures themselves were creepy and well designed, but I did think that some of them looked a little fake.

Now it’s impossible for me to really discuss what I didn’t like at the end of the movie without ruining it for you, so I’ll just say this: the movie does not end exactly the way the book does (FYI, I haven’t read the book, but I know how it ended because I KNOW THINGS). The way people behave near the climax of the film seemed a little silly to me, and at the very end, I thought to myself, “Well, if you do that and what I think will happen, happens, you’re going to feel pretty fucking stupid,” and I was totally right.

Overall though, these flaws didn’t ruin the movie for me. I thought it was a good adaptation of a Stephen King book, done well by the only guy who seems to be able to consistently do it well. An entertaining flick.

Developed by Retro Studios
Published by Nintendo

By Miles Baker

After playing this game for a whole weekend I had a case of tennis elbow. I’m not left handed, and I don’t fish, so the constant casting of the Wii’s nunchuck became tiresome. It’s not that you have to do it all that often — although you really do — it’s just that the fucker doesn’t read your movements right half the time and you have to keep doing it. It’s the one big frustration of a nearly flawless game.

It should have been a homerun. It should have made me knock down old ladies in my mad dash to buy a Wii and a copy of Metroid Prime 3: Corruption — not because they’re in my way, but on the off-chance they were also going to buy it. The graphics are so pretty you forget that technically the Wii is the weakest of the next generation systems; the character design is hip and emerging; there are tons of great gameplay activities and, dude, you get to fly Samus’ spaceship! And 95 percent of the time this game is so awesome — it’s just that 5 percent you have to worry about; that 5 percent is when the Wii won’t properly read your activities, and it’s usually during a critical part of a boss fight. It happens in every Wii game I’ve played, and it’s the most frustrating thing ever. It makes me swear and say things I don’t mean about Samus Aran.

But more on the positive side: this is the most immersive game in a series of immersive games. This time around, you get to see more of the universe that Samus inhabits. Until now she’d just been this lone bounty hunter fighting against Space Pirates. You didn’t know who her employers were, and you never even saw her take a bounty. Mostly she just kills Space Pirates and saves the galaxy from Metroids. Now, there’s a lot more context, and a few more planets for Samus to sink her teeth into. The variety of locations is a welcome addition to the series, especially because it means that your spaceship is more than just a super save station. The art direction in each area is fantastic and Retro makes the most out of the Wii’s graphics engine. Though, man, this game in high def would be sweet. Hella sweet.

And when the controls work, it’s very cool. But when they don’t, well, you’ve read about the rage. It’s deep and plentiful, much like the puzzles in this game.

So, uh, buy it if you like mixed emotions.

By Alexander B. Huls

Tim Kring & Co. are A-OK in my book

After doling (that’s my new favorite word) out a fair amount of criticism in the direction of Heroes, I have to admit — I feel sort of guilty now that Tim Kring has come out and admitted to and apologized for the mistakes made so far in Season Two. You’d think after all my huffing and puffing, I’d be here doing the Dance of Joy and muttering “I was right” to myself, but all I really have to say is how much respect I now have for Kring. My issues with the Season One finale and the current season aside, it’s hard enough for a creative individual to watch criticism perpetually thrown at his/her little baby; but to then absorb them, process them, and concede that those criticisms are valid, then apologize for them, and promise to fix things? That, fair readers, makes Tim Kring and his fellow writers what one would call stand-up acts. I know they are not reading this, but nevertheless, I wish to salute them — one and all — for doing something that can’t have been easy to do. It indicates an admirable honesty and impressive respect for their audiences — something I thought they had lost with the Season One finale. I was wrong.

Canada gets darker

Television shows shot in Canada are now beginning to shut-down. Not so much of a loss for Bionic Woman, but Battlestar Galactica? With Season Four already delayed till April, all I can say is that the studios better trip, get some sense knocked into their heads, and decide to finally give the writers what they deserve, because I need more Battlestar Galactica. Sure, Razor tides me over, but if you saw the Season Three finale, you’ll know how hard it is already to be waiting.

Strike stuff

The strike is certainly having an interesting effect on most television shows. With scripts now starting to run out, many shows are creating pseudo-finales so that there is a degree of closure for viewers, or an incentive for them to return whenever the strike is resolved. In some cases, writers had enough of a heads-up to accommodate the strike, while in other cases show-runners are creating alternate endings that could be used should the strike not be resolved by the time of their airing. Of course this isn’t always easy, and in some cases it will really suck — such as with Lost, which already has an expiry date (2010) with a certain amount of episodes to be fulfilled. Or what about 24? Like Lost, as of now, it only has eight episodes. Unless they aim to rename it 8, it may not very work well. Then again, given the production woes that have plagued this season of the show, maybe it’s a mercy kill. Especially for show creators trying to form a sense of closure, these shortened seasons signal an acceptance of the possibility that this strike might go on for quite a while.

The thing about these truncated seasons is, that although there is a degree of truth to the many studios’ obnoxious assertions that writers will be more negatively affected by the strike than the studios themselves, I keep on thinking that it’s hot air. Sure, reality shows will re-emerge (unfortunately), but I’m not convinced that they will be as successful as they used to be, especially now that narrative shows have once again gained a significant foothold. If reality shows fail to draw large audiences, then of course, less viewers means less advertising money. I’m also thinking about the lost revenue in DVD sales. TV-on-DVD has become a booming market — both in rental and retail — and shorter seasons mean distributors can’t charge as much, which — ironically and unfortunately — means even less royalty money for writers. The writers are going to be hit hard, no doubt, but if you consider the huge amount of money that is at stake for greedy studios unwilling to concede to writers’ demands? I don’t know. I don’t get it.

On that note, now’s probably the appropriate time — if you hadn’t noticed already — to express my 100 percent solidarity with the writers who deserve every cent they ask for and a crap-load more. It’s mind-boggling that screenwriters and television writers get so royally screwed over when in most other major writer professions (novel writers, non-fiction, playwrights) things are so different. Thank a rich tradition dating back to the Golden Age of Hollywood, where writers were as expendable and exchangeable as light bulbs — an attitude that was never corrected, as is readily apparent with this current strike. I could go on a nice long rant over the issues, but maybe I’ll save that for another time. My soap box is currently at the dry cleaner’s, so I feel ill-prepared.

Goldie braves the subject of bi-curious friend action. Dear Mz. Richard:
I have a sexy problem. I have recently discovered a bi-curious nature within me, and I feel the need to explore it more. Now, the problem arises in that it is really only directed at one woman in particular, who is one of my best friends. I really want to make out with her, but I don’t know how she would react.

We are both fairly experimental and open with sexuality, but have never bridged the gap of bisexuality. And the other thing is, I just want some fun, not a relationship. Ideally we would just go back to being friends after. Is there a way to do this?

Horny For My Girl

Dear HFMG:
Well, this is a sexy problem. Oh mama, is it ever. I would venture to say it’s not really a problem, but more of a challenge. Unfortunately, I think you will have to approach this one like a man. You will have to use some trickery, and a well-tested technique of our dear Dr. Smoothmoves. Get her drunk.

This is the only way. I do not recommend just bringing this up over some girl talk, it will explode in your face faster than an 18-year-old freshman. Now, you have two choices, private drunken time, which may lead to more feelings than you’re willing to deal with, or do it at a party. Girl kissing is par for the course at parties these days it seems, and the hoots and hollers from the gentlemen in the room may ease her into it more.

Now, you know I would never, ever suggest tricking a woman, but in this case, it is a safe way of doing it. Just drunkenly scream, “Let’s make out,” then grab and kiss her. You will know right away if she’s into it or not, and if not she’ll be so loaded you can blame it on the gin. But if she is into it, then the possibilities are endless. I wouldn’t try going further than a little make-out the first time; it may lead to messiness in the morning. But if the make-out goes over well in her drunken state, then you can have a sober conversation or move it to private drunken time, and try to push the boundaries a bit more.

Now, as for the friendship part, I do recommend a little chat about what happened in a day or so, you can’t just let it go. You need to ask her how she felt about it, and if she was having fun then great, if not, you need to let it lie and apologize for your behavior, explaining you just had a weird urge to kiss her, it won’t happen again, blah, blah. But I hope for your sexy self that she is into it! Good luck hotness!

Until next time honeys, keep it drunken, keep it fuzzy.