I’m up here in the wintery northern reaches of Albany (really Clifton Park, but whatever), and so far I’m not impressed.

That’s neither here nor there.

With some time to kill, I decided I’d suck it up and go and see an early manatee of Kick-Ass.

I figured I’d squeeze in a movie, hate it enough to blog about, and have plenty of time for dinner. Maybe, Outback.

So… Kick-Ass.

Here’s the problem — or at least, “the thing” — about Kick-Ass. It’s two stories.

One, the story Mark Millar (pronounced Miller, don’t knock yourself out) says he’s telling: what if real people tried to fight real crime, in the real world.

Then the story he’s really telling. About a 12 year old girl who says things like “cunt” and “motherfucker” in between cutting people in half with a katana.

Both stories are probably fine on their own.

They don’t play well with each other. Not on the page, nor on the screen. The film is all-but literally split down the middle as if Hit-Girl herself found it in her way.

Half is about Kick-Ass, played well enough by Aaron Johnson. He’s mostly pathetic and not at all cut out for this line of work, and has a crush on a girl out of his league but he has heart of blah blah blah.

Half is about a little girl who says swear words and kills a lot of people.

Somewhere in the middle is Nick Cage.

It’s extremely poorly conceived. And I like Millar. Not everything he writes, obviously, but at least half his stuff I would recommend to a stranger.

This is none of that. This is him printing money off of a foul mouthed babe-child and a bunch of hyper-violence that doesn’t reflect the real world in any form.

It’s transparent.

And that’s what bothers me.

Every laugh this movie got was of the “oh no she didn’t!” variety. Yes she did. Of course she did. She did in the commercials even. It’s not all that shocking. It’s a desperate bid. This little guilty pleasure you get out of something that’s not even all that taboo.

“*teehee* girl’s curse.”

God, that pisses me off.

Oh, the main character being mistaken for gay got a bunch of laughs too.

And then there’s the ending.

Don’t even get me started on the ending.

Never is it more apparent that this is a tale of two pictures then the absurd juxtaposed with what could pass for realism (if you’d just leave it alone) that dominates the last ten to twenty minutes.

I almost gave a shit twice and it was squandered by some misbegotten need to make a bad situation worse.

It doesn’t even follow the book.

The book I already didn’t like!

It gives away every minor turn the book has before they come.

I understand the going opinion is that audiences are dumb and all, but I promise, they would’ve followed this shoe-string, crime drama plot just fine.

If only to see if the kid would say “tits” or something.

I may not have liked the book, but it had a couple of heel turns I think would’ve had people talking about more than what Chloe Moretz’s mother must think*.

Why would you waste that? It doesn’t help the movie at all. In fact, it takes a good deal out of it.

Jesus.

Weird decisions abound.

Nick Cage’s performance is goofy in a way that doesn’t even fit with the other two movies you’re watching. He’s invoking an Adam West-like smarm, while being a sociopath. Except, that doesn’t fit the rest of the performances or writing. It’s bolstered up by nothing other than that Nick Cage can get away with crap the rest of us can’t, I guess.

Anyway, regardless of the movie–and comic–’s considerable flaws… it was okay.

Yeah, I was entertained, whenever I wasn’t a little outraged.

It’s well acted. Even Nick Cage, if I don’t know what movie he was in.

There’s a couple good gags that don’t rely on potty-mouthed young ladies or gay jokes. The gay jokes themselves aren’t mean-spirited, even if the resolution of that plotline is retarded.

The action pieces are really great and a lot of good stuff hasn’t been used in the commercials yet, so that’s cool.

Like I said, I even caught myself caring a couple of times.

Verdict: Yeah, I mean, go see it probably. I’m a little surprised to hear myself say that.

Just do me a favor and get over the naughtiness of Hit-Girl early, so you can appreciate the performance Chloe Moretz turns in. Natalie Portman from The Professional, good. Her parts are the best parts, which makes you wonder why Millar didn’t write two different stories.

Or just call the story “Hit-Girl”.

It’s all anyone wants to see anyway.

Although did I mention the ending? The ending sucked sooooooo bad.

Okay, just the one device.

The Hit-Girl parts are fine.

You’ll know that part.

Like, with seven ohs bad.

*She was on set everyday. She thinks it’s fine.

Alright. It’s time.

Time to talk about what Final Fantasy XIII does wrong.

First off: I finished the game, I like the game. I might even love it given some time and some distance. It’s certainly better than XII, although it shares some of that game’s fondness for needless garbage junking up the overall experience.

In other words: Bullshit™

I already talked about this a bit in my prior thoughts. With the summoning and the what-not.

You see, all the Final Fantasy games have a little Bullshit™ to them. That’s a large part of why I like them, actually. When you crest the non-ironic 300 hour mark in a game, well, they have to be doing something right.

You can disagree, of course, and for a healthy dose of counterpoint might I suggest Yahtzee Crenshaw?

He’s not wrong. Not one bit.

And yet? I disagree completely with his final verdict.

You see, I play the shit out of games. I get a new game and I don’t stop playing it until it’s dead, dead, dead. This amounts to my beating games before the weekend. I beat the Totally Awesome Arkham Asylum (hitherto just: Arkham Asylum) twice in a week and a half. The second time on Hard.

I’m not extra awesome at gaming or anything. I’m not 1337 by a long shot. I just play the shit out of them. So the last several games I’ve bought, have been specks on my windscreen: Mass Effect 2? A little under a week. Bioshock 2? A couple of days.

So a game that takes 20 hours to get good? Totally welcome.

That’s not my beef.

I love the FFranchise’s penchant for putting in a bunch of mini-grindy Bullshit™ which often elevates the combat system from annoying distraction to interactive multi-layered diversion. Also a giant hole in which time is thrown. So good at this was FFVII that I coined the term: grind porn.

God I miss grinding in that game… so many delicious little crinkly bits that made every single fight worth the time.

Hm? What?

Right, sorry.

No, my beef is that FFXIII reserves it’s heady dose of hour-devouring Bullshit™ for after you’ve beaten the game already. In fact, it assures that  all your Bullshit™ is reserved for after you’ve completed the story.

Their first mistake.

What do I need to do all this Bullshit™ for? I’m done with the game.

Granted, in previous games you’re able to defeat the game by the time all the raddest stuff is opened up. But you don’t do it.

I don’t wanna beat it yet, then it’ll be over.

This is where Bullshit™ comes in handy: “Oh, man, I can’t beat the game yet, I don’t have Auto-Haste armor for everyone. Oh well, I guess I’ll have to run around in circles in the Al Bhedian desert mugging birds for 40-fucking-hours.”

Finally the whole map is opened up, and Ultimate Weapons are out there to be found. The game’s just getting started!

Unless you’ve already beaten it. Then it’s just over and now I’m running around doing stuff that feels tacked on rather than a living, breathing part of the experience.

Double-Bullshit™!

But it gets worse.

The double-Bullshit™ is extra-shitty.

It stands out as the worst excesses of X (tons of farm and grind) and XII (four hour long hunt missions) combined.

Today I rage-quit.

Just up and threw a controller with a hearty cry of “Fuckit!”

After an hour and ten minutes of fighting a Bullshit™ critter for the off chance that he drops anything letalone the fucking thing I need ten of, I was destroyed thanks to my AI-addled cohorts who let me die centimeters away from ball-shrinking victory.

My daughter learned a number of new and exciting words she can’t wait to utter in mixed company as evidence that I’m a shitty parent.

At least when I’m hunting Alcyones that only appear in the sunlit portions of the map (on Fridays, Saturdays, and Jewish holidays), my disappointment is swift. I am either fighting one or I’m not. Better luck next time.

There is no “better luck next time” an hour and ten minutes later. There is only Zuul.

This is a thing the game expects you to fight dozens of.

Are you shitting me?

On the seriously off chance that I get a thing? A thing that I can sell. So I can buy this prohibitively expensive thing, that unlocks the ability to use other rare things to upgrade an elusive item (that I need three of). In order to activate a hidden ability that makes it possible to defeat a specific fight. A specific fight which all told will not be as hard as the process it took to get to him.

Why am I doing this again?

Not even an achievement.

The only carrot is my own feelings of incompletion.

This is just for one fight. I have to fight another hundred of these fuckshits if I want to get all the best crap so I can kill more fuckshits at a mildly increased rate of success.

Hours on end of this exact type of Bullshit™.

Listen. I’ve done my time. I’ve raced chocobos with the best of them. I dodged lightning and butterflies in equal measure. I went treasure hunting, collected Zodiac medallions, hunted Brachiosaurs, killed Weapons, and completed the Via Infinito three times over.

I have a really thick skin for Bullshit™.

This is too much.

Who playtested this and said: “That’s not at all unreasonable”?

Whoever they were? My fist. Their balls.

I would rather beat the game a dozen times over then endure this nut-chafingest of Bullshit™.

Game designers — and I’m talking to you, Square — take note: Long, does not equal satisfying.

Verdict: This series needs to take a step back and remember the fine balance that made them a leading name in gaming. You know what was good? Lost Odyssey that’s what. Because Hironobu Sakaguchi still knows what makes a Fucking Great Game™. The kids have taken over the candy store. but they’ve forgotten what was so awesome about candy in the first place.

Shut up.

Your metaphor is really strained.

Okay, this is the most awesomest awesome to awesome this side of Awesometown.

Possibly Nerdville, depending on the post office.

Dude hacked the game his lady was playing (the totally incredible Chrono Trigger -I extra approve) in order to propose to her.

(Double click the vid to get the whole story in his words).

Special thanks to BlueInkAlchemist for the hot tip.

Got out to Ye Old Manatee today to see How To Train Your Dragon with the boy and girl.

I wasn’t terribly excited about it to be honest. For whatever reason: Dreamworks sometimes spotty history, my hard-on for all-things dragony that didn’t want to see this done poorly, a general trend of my being frustrated with movie-going? Some heady mix of all of the above, no doubt.

Between some good word of mouth, and taking any excuse to get out with the kids for the afternoon I figured it was worth a shot.

Holy sweet dragon shit am I glad I did.

This movie is incredible. Thumbs up across the board. The boy (5) loved it, the girl (2) loved it, and I probably loved it most of all (34).

My first thought coming out was that Dreamworks might finally steal the gold bald guy out from under Pixar this year. With Toy Story 3 looking to retread Lasseter’s too-well trod Brave Little Toaster* path, it could be a good year to squeak out a long-awaited, little victory.

I mean, the story isn’t going to blow your fragile mind or anything. It’s no Up or Wall-E. It’s standard Dreamworks fare, if exceptionally well done standard Dreamworks fare. Dragon comes in better than Kung-Fu Panda by a long yard, and I rather loved Panda. It’s expertly animated, solidly acted, has great beats, genuine chuckles, and some totally rad action.

Totally. Rad. Action.

The girl was antsy and ran around the aisles for large swathes of the film. We had the place to ourselves, so I indulged her. But as it crested the last act and the dragon shit starts hitting the viking fan, her ass was glued right back in her seat. Mouth agape, drinking in every awesome inch of dragon-saturated cellulose.

Note: We didn’t see it in 3-D, because seriously, fuck 3-D. But if you’re into that, and have the extra bucks it’s probably worth the price of admission.

Good movies are difficult to review. They’re good and you should go see them and what else is there to say? Bad movies you come out of with a sense of righteous outrage that the reviews practically write themselves. Here? Um, it’s totally wicked? It’s full of  sweet-ass dragons doing sweet-ass crap. I mean, why are you sitting there reading this when you could be out there watching it? You know?

I’ll give a quick shout-out to Jay Baruchel, who carries this movie on voice alone for long stretches.

Playing opposite a non-verbal contributor asks a lot of a guy’s voice. He brings a likability to the main character, Hiccup. He’s never too pathetic or whiny, he plays the line very well. He’s always good at making you want to root for him, but to be able to do it without the use of his hang dog features and “aw-shucks” hair-tussel, is worth mentioning.

After The Baruch of God, Gerard Butler and Craig Ferguson are the stand-outs (yea, though no one failed to bring the proper heat to their roles). An applaudable stable of voice actors all around, creating a memorable cast. A lot of decent vocal subtlety that can be tough to get out of the All-Star grab bags so popular in voicework these days.

Lastly, let’s just say a quick word about the dragons. I wasn’t impressed with the design and models going into the movie, and to be fair, I’m still not knocked out by them coming out. They’re all just a little too goofy. While in motion (and pushed forward by a development I totally should’ve seen coming but didn’t) they work well enough with the world around them. They didn’t stand out as bad as I feared going in.

The main drag, Toothless, however, is the obvious exception and stand-out. At turns terrifying, goofy, sweet, etc. Everything you need from your voiceless, animal stand-in character. He has no less than two of the best moments in the show, and considering he is a total figment of the movie’s imagination, that’s something.

The Verdict: I can’t wait to see it again, and I will buy this movie the minute it becomes available.

As usual, I asked the boy what his favorite part of the movie was, and he said soberly: “When that boy trained the Dragon.”

I’ll take that to mean all the parts. You should too.

*An excellent path, no doubt, I’m just a little leary of needing to go back to this well again.

I’m thinking about microblogging….