Minions

Minions crossed my Threshold of Disappointment, which is quite an accomplishment considering the fact that I really didn't expect much from it.
 
I think the core problem was that I didn't care. Nothing seemed to be at stake. Sure, there were some funny moments, and the animation was brilliant, but ultimately the film failed to connect with me anywhere.
 
Like Penguins of Madagascar, Minions attempts to take hilarious side characters and extend the hilarity to a feature film. Minions was hobbled by one of the key rules of the setting: the Minions themselves must never speak intelligibly.
 
Remember WALL-E? Imagine the first act of that story with a narrator interpreting it all for us.
 
That is exactly what happened for the opening scenes of Minions. I don't mind having a narrator set the tone, and Geoffrey Rush was great at that, but when the narrator must tell me what a character is thinking, feeling, and saying, something has gone terribly wrong.
 
Minions enters my list at #16. If you've got kids who are begging to see this, my advice is to take the money you would have spent on that, and buy something cool for them with it. Then rent this when it comes out on DVD.

I'll Be Talking About Kickstarter

This Saturday I'll be at the Salt Lake Public Library at the invitation of Utah Sequential Artists and Illustrators.
 
Alan Gardner, newshound-in-chief at The Daily Cartoonist, and a founding member of USAI*, did the poster above, and I love the caricature.
 
Here are the details again, because copying and pasting text from an image is tedious:
 
July 11, 2015
10:00 AM @ Salt Lake City Public Library
Conference Room A
 
I'll have slides, I'll answer questions, and the whole thing will run for about 60 minutes. Seating is limited, and the event is open to the public. A few seats will be reserved for USAI members.

"No, This is Not an Oregon Trail LARP."

 
From Tuesday through Friday my family and I are participating in "Trek," which, in the local dialect of Mormon-speak, is interpreted to mean "hiking and camping with handcarts, hymns, and harmonicas." Just like our pioneer ancestors. I joked that this event was a cross between a Mormon Pioneer cosplay and an Oregon Trail LARP, but I've been told that this is not the case, and no, I'm not allowed to pretend to have died of dysentery so I can go home.
 
If it sounds like I'm making light of it, that's because I make light of pretty much everything. Especially things of which I'm frightened. Camping in general has lost its appeal for me. Hiking? Sounds suspiciously like work. Doing them together, so that after a long hike you get a crap bed and food you carried and zero long soaks in a hot bath? Let's just say it's not Reese's Peanut Butter Cup math.
 
I am not, however, a heartless, spineless fool who cannot see the benefit in these things. Sandra and I have been given the opportunity to walk the trail our ancestors walked one-point-six centuries ago, and we get to do so with all four of our children. The window of opportunity for this activity is pretty much this year, or never. Our kids are growing up and growing out. If we want to be miserable, all six of us, together in Wyoming, this is the time to do it.
 
Am I making light again? Perhaps.
 
We won't have "electronic devices" with us, which is Trek-speak for "no phones, no music-players, no movies, no laptops, no getting any work done Howard, and if you want to take pictures the camera must only be a camera, not a smart-something." If I want to tweet anything I'll have to write it by hand in my journal, and carefully count the characters on my fingers to make sure I don't use too many.
 
I am issuing an electronics exemption for my Fitbit, which I will be wearing for the whole trip. I have it on good authority that the pioneers had 1) odometers, and 2) timepieces. Besides, this is the damaged one (the replacement from the manufacturer is still in the packaging) and the repair scars I've inflicted upon it exemplify the old saw about thrift:
 
Use it up, wear it out. Make it do, or do without.
 
 
That particular aphorism probably dates from after the time period in question, but only because during the time period in question you didn't need to say such a thing, because it was what everybody did without some pithy rhyme as a reminder.
 
In this spirit, everything I'm wearing, carrying, or packing is newly acquired for this trip EXCEPT for the anachronometer on my wrist. Especially the shoes, which have been thoroughly broken in subsequently stress-tested on a 22,000-step day. If my ancestors had crossed the plains in boots like these they really would have sang as they walked.
 
The point is that I'm going dark for four days. We'll be back on Saturday, and I'll be refreshed and ready for my presentation at the Salt Lake Public Library.
 

(cross-posted from howardtayler.com)

Terminator: Genisys

I'm listening to the Terminator: Genisys soundtrack, by Lorne Balfe, as I write this. It is quite good.

Per my remarks on Twitter, Terminator: Genisys is NOT the movie in which Starbuck says to Sarah Connor "this is my friend Neo. We're here to help with your robot problem." That impossibly wonderful crossing of the streams was my brother Randy's idea, and we both know that it's something we'll never have.  Perhaps our grandchildren will get it on SpacePirateBay, or Googazon's hTube, but it will never be ours.

Terminator: Genisys does manage to cross some streams, though, and to great effect. If you're familiar with the first two films, and perhaps a little confused by the third, the fourth, and the TV show, (the confusion results because you're trying to use the word "continuity" in conjunction with the words"time" and  "travel,") you will find that  Terminator: Genisys plays with all of the source material, and will reward those familiar with the franchise for paying attention.

(As of this writing the original Terminator film, starring the inimitable Linda Hamilton as Sarah Connor, is available on Netflix. Should you watch it first? Maybe!)

I would have enjoyed the film much more had I not seen so many cool reveals in the trailers. They telegraph quite a bit of what's coming, but the studio did manage to hold a few things back, and the surprises were delightful. I want to talk about those things, and how effectively the story turned expectations upside down, but then you'll have less fun in the theater than I did, and that is almost the exact opposite of what I should be causing to happen with these reviews.

Emilia Clarke, who plays Sarah Connor, initially struck me as looking far too young and tiny for the role. Funny thing: she's within a year of the same age Linda Hamilton was when she defined Sarah Connor for us in 1984's Terminator.

Despite being four inches shorter than Hamilton, Clarke had me convinced by the end of the movie. It's probably because she's a fine actress, and has that amazing ability to project herself as larger than life. Not having watched enough Game of Thrones to see her as Daenerys, I can't speak for everything she does, but that particular piece resumé should speak much more loudly to you than anything I say.

Terminator: Genisys did what few* sixth installments in a cinematic franchise do: it crosses my Threshold of Awesome, entering my 2015 list at #8.

Regarding that, it seems that either my standards are slipping, or this is a good year for movies that I enjoy. Or maybe I've become a better judge of what I should see in the theater. My Threshold of Disappointment has only been tripped once (Furious 7), and the middle ground between disappointment and awesome is occupied by four titles: Inside OutInsurgent, Strange Magic, and Seventh Son.

The year is half over. I hope this does NOT mean that I've accrued a stack of movie karma that will require balancing in the coming months.

(*Note: sixth installments that cross the Threshold of Awesome: The Avengers in 2012, and The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies in 2014. Sixth installments that don't?)  

A Planet Mercenary Play Test

On Saturday, June 27th, we had a Planet Mercenary RPG play test at LibertyCon. Alan Bahr ran the game, and Steve Jackson joined us. Our small band of mercenary officers was cast as follows:

  • The purp doctor: Howard Tayler
  • The tetrisoid attorney: Alijah Ballard
  • The ursumari engineer: Keliana Tayler
  • The mobile-chassis A.I.: David Pascoe
  • The Ob'enn captain: Steve Jackson

The adventure began at MercCon, held in a dilapidated station in orbit around Damaxuri. We roamed the expo hall looking for swag, and while the captain adorned himself with things that blinked and glowed, our one-meter-tall attorney decided to prank random strangers by injecting them with stim samples he lifted from one of the booths. When an angry neophant caught him at it and grabbed him, the doctor whipped out a syringe and said "if you want the antidote, you'll put my friend down." It worked, and now that we could see that our attorney player was going to play as a rogue, we adjusted our deployment to keep a better eye on him.

The A.I. went sniffing through the data-streams, and determined that there was money to be made on the surface of Damaxuri, but only if we moved fast, and got there before the news broke to the rest of the mercenaries at the convention. After evaluating several slow, or bad, or slow-and-bad options for getting to the surface, the captain decided we should find a civilian ship with immediate clearance, hijack it, and then remove its transponder to provide OUR ship with clearance.

The following thirty minutes of game play were pretty hilarious, and included safe-cracking, recruiting, remote piloting for maximum "soft" collisions, a false alarm about an outbreak of smuttorhea, and us racing to the surface well ahead of anybody else who may have wanted the job that just posted. The attorney did the safe-cracking with the ursumari's boomex, and only the fact that the safe contained both currency and blackmail material pacified the ursumari.

I'll spare you any further spoilers, since the adventure (with some tweaks, of course) will be part of the final product. The final tableau: while our ursumari roared in frustration, literally bristling with shuriken from her violently defective weapon, the doctor stabilized our target and began counting out pain killers and happy-pills for the angry wall of "friendly" fur. Meanwhile the lawyer and the captain managed the "recruiting" of our target's hench-folk, and the A.I. rolled through the warehouse evaluating whether or not we could collect the bounty *AND* salvage the inventory of a profitable criminal enterprise.

Steve, Keliana, and I had to bounce out to another event, but everybody (including us!) kept talking about what our characters would do next. The game was over, the players had to leave, but we were all still telling the story. That's a pretty successful game.

The "speak first, go first" initiative system worked perfectly, in part because our captain spoke first and began issuing orders. Steve Jackson played that really well, which is no surprise, and the other players rolled with it equally well. Whether or not the captain was right about this plan to blow a hole in the bulkhead, we were going to pour our bullets through it and get the job done.

The mayhem cards also worked well. The doctor's fire team gained a bonus to all combat actions by virtue of being terrified of him, and our company's charter lost a couple of points of reputation because despite getting the job done there was an embarrassing video of our ursumari covered in bits of her own weapon. Both of these elements would have played straight into further adventure sessions, informing our role play and the math of combat.

Most auspiciously, the game played *fast.* The fun we had voicing our characters carried straight into the combat scenes at a pace which felt natural, and which, even though we were all still learning the system, did not bog down.

To paraphrase Steve's remarks to Alan: "This was fun. I suspect you could run any game well, but you've got a good thing here." I don't remember the exact quote, but that was the spirit of it, and Alan was grinning for the rest of the day.

I had microphone responsibilities at the luncheon which followed, so I wasn't paying enough attention while Keliana sketched. I caught just enough to realize she was drawing our Planet Mercenary party, but before I could ask to see the finished piece, she'd given it to our play-test guest of honor.

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