I always conceived my "Were They in Love" editorials as a trilogy, but since this is my noncommittal nerd blog, I haven't gotten around to finishing it in like...over the past year.
But the time has finally come to end the series with a bang.
In my previous editions of WTIL, I've covered a depiction of a real historical couple portrayed in fiction, and I've covered a fictional couple from a cartoon classic. But today, we're going to look at a celebrity couple. Generally I don't like talking about celebrities and celebrity relationships, but I think I can make an exception for this one.
Time to check in with the storied romance of Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy.
Name any two celebrities that aged more beautifully than these two. I'll wait.
Kermit and Miss Piggy are some of Hollywood's most recognizable actors, and they often come as a package deal. From their 1970s sketch comedy show The Muppet Show, their acclaimed film series, and even to their modern-day TV appearances - where Kermit goes, Miss Piggy isn't far behind.
While Kermit and Miss Piggy have often been casted as love interests in their acting careers, there is a deep behind-the-scenes saga about their true romance...if one could call it that.
The timeline of Kermit/Piggy's relationship has already been thoroughly covered by Business Insider, so I highly recommend reading through that article. In short, what is often perceived as a real-life "Hollywood romance" actually has a lot of upsetting twists and turns. The story of Kermit and Miss Piggy is really one of staged weddings and public meltdowns.
This upsetting interview was meant to promote the upcoming "Muppets in Disney World" TV special. But it quickly devolves into Miss Piggy and Kermit talking over each other and bickering as their poor host tries to keep calm. Towards the end, however, it all spirals out of control as Miss Piggy screamingly ends her and Kermit's relationship.
To make matters worse, Miss Piggy ACTUALLY PHYSICALLY ASSAULTS KERMIT ON TV before storming out of the stage, concluding the interview in a ruckus and shameful display.
Larry King only talked about the most important shit in our society.
While not as loud or violent as the 1990 interview, Kermit and Miss Piggy's 1993 interview with Larry King is teeth-gritting and hard to sit through. Larry King didn't help things, as he asked his guests probing questions about their relationship and the possibility of them "producing offspring" (ew).
What strikes me about this video as wrong is the fact that Miss Piggy and Kermit do not seem to be on the same page on their relationship at all - with Piggy claiming that they are secretly together, and Mr. The Frog denying each claim.
3. The Muppet Movie (1979)
To conclude this, I'm going back to the very start.
The classic 1979 film The Muppet Movie is a fictionalized take at how Kermit and his friends met each other to create the musical/sketch comedy ensemble troupe, The Muppets. While we can give the movie and its plot the benefit of the doubt, it shows a less-than-favorable take on how Kermit and Miss Piggy "fell in love."
"Never before, and never again..."
Supposedly, from Miss Piggy's perspective, it was love at first sight. Despite this rapturous first meeting, when you watch the film, you see that Kermit is constantly off put by Miss Piggy's strong advances, and the two are never on the same page.
Rewatching this film as an adult was a lesson for me, because it opened my eyes to the fact that Kermit and Miss Piggy were doomed to fail as a couple.
In conclusion, given all this evidence...were they in love?
My answer: No, actually, I don't believe they were, or are, or ever will be. Miss Piggy may have wanted Kermit to love her on her terms, and Kermit was never ready to deliver on that.
While I'm certainly a fan of both of their respective works as actors, musicians, and producers, I can't say that I appreciate what they've done to each other in the past. But I think we all can respect the fact that it seems that they have moved on and found adjustment in their lives, despite what more of their fictionalized films have to say about their lives.
While Kermit and Miss Piggy are an iconic duo...let's admit it, they are a toxic couple.
Aaaaaaand that concludes the "Were They in Love" trilogy, my attempted at doing consistent editorial work for my blog discussing iconic couples that have actually mediocre love stories. I don't know what I'm doing next with this silly blog as I'm now working full-time and trying to pursue publishing on the side, so...until next time, whenever that may be.
When the trailer for Pixar's newest film dropped, I immediately thought it seemed a bit gimmicky. Okay, so we have a city of sentient beings of Fire, Water, Earth, and Air. They all live in a multicultural city, Zootopia-style. The trailer showed only one Fire person as someone who was hiding herself, as if Fire people were being ostracized from society. And to top it all off, the Fire person has a meet-cute with a Water person.
From the get-go, I already seemed to know what the story would be. It was a mixed-matched love story with themes about overcoming prejudice. I wasn't super interested. In fact, I was starting to lose my love for Pixar as a studio after the release of Incredibles 2.
Here's a completely skippable flash-review of the last few years of Pixar films in case anyone's interested...
Incredibles 2: Good but not as good as the first one, criminally missed opportunity to have the characters grow up Toy Story 4: Didn't watch it due to reboot fatigue Onward: Watched it at home and actually really enjoyed it Soul: Watched it at home and was very perplexed Luca: Haven't seen it Turning Red: Watched it twice, liked it a lot Lightyear: Haven't seen it, keep forgetting it exists
In short, Pixar films haven't inspired or interested me like they used to, probably because I've grown up and become somewhat cynical. I was completely prepared to ignore Elemental, until I realized that nobody was talking about it. Onward got screwed over because of the Pandemic release, I heard good words about Soul and Luca, and Turning Red became a source of memes and stupid controversy (some people just hate media aimed for young girls and get pissy when they're not the target audience...).
But I hadn't heard anything about Elemental. I did some digging around the Internet and found some quotes of critical consensus. Here's the highlights:
"[Elemental] received praise from critics for its animation, though its screenplay was considered underwhelming" - Wikipedia as of August 13th 2023.
"[Elemental] may not satisfy as fully as the greatest Pixar pictures, but it remains a solid story told with dazzling visual flair" - Rotten Tomatoes as of August 13th 2023.
And honestly, after seeing it...I completely agree with the above statements.
But here are some more detailed thoughts as to why I think Elemental was only "good but not great."
1. It's a love story.
Nothing against love stories, I love a good romance when it's done right. The problem with Elemental is that for me, it couldn't strike a balance between the conflict of the forbidden love of Water + Fire and the conflict of the protagonist, Ember, deciding that she wants to live her own dream.
In short, the "Pixar formula" is that each character ends up wanting the exact opposite of what they wanted at the start of the film. For example, Marlin wants to keep his son Nemo safe at all costs, but ends up learning to let him grow up and have freedom. Sully wants to be the top scarer, but after learning that what they're doing is actually hurting human kids, he learns another way that they can create energy. The list goes on, but for just about every Pixar film, the "twists" in the protagonists' goals are there.
In Elemental, Ember is set up to want to inherit her father's store as a way of repaying his sacrifice of leaving his homeland for a better life in Element City. Throughout the narrative, Ember discovers her talent for making glass sculptures and realizes she has potential as a creator and artist, instead of a shop keeper. The "Pixar ending" is that Ember tells her father the truth about what she wants and leaves for a glassmaking internship in another city.
But the other main plot of the story is really Ember's romance with Wade, a public facilities inspector who comes out from a burst pipe in the family's shop. What starts as them trying to stop the store from being shut down blooms into a romance of them exploring the city together, getting to know each other better, and realizing they care for each other. The romantic buildup was fine and had some really realistic moments that we don't see in a lot of love stories, like the fact that they both know their feelings are mutual for a long time before they properly act upon them (as opposed to a "oMG I'm so confused do I like him or not? I SWEAR I DON'T LIKE HIM" moment).
Honestly I thought they were a cute couple. Who doesn't love an "opposites attract" story?
For me, having Ember's priorities be both her dreams and the love interest did not gel well. While the characters had great chemistry, I didn't end up caring about them ending up together towards the end as much as the movie was telling me to. I was much more invested in seeing Ember grow as a character outside of her relationships to the male characters in the story.
(Side note: The romance between Bob and Helen Parr from The Incredibles is absolutely amazing to me because it's an established couple going through changes in their lives together, and it's not the main source of tension in the story. I just want every romance in a narrative be like how it is in The Incredibles.)
Ah, the battle couple. My lifelong favorite.
2. The world doesn't feel "lived in."
While I loved the designs, the imagination, and the animation of Elemental, the worldbuilding itself felt surprisingly weak.
There's already been a lot of discussion about how Zootopia failed to tell an earnest narrative about predjudice. But what Zootopia did well, in my opinion, was making the titular city feel real. Zootopia had an established history, as well as side-narratives and explanations to how the city itself worked.
Element City felt a bit weak on a conceptual level, because you have to suspend your disbelief that creatures made of elements would need things like food, infrastructure, and clothing.
Not only that, but it becomes a hindrance to the plot when you see how little the city itself actually plays into the story.
Wade meets Ember because some pipes burst in her home. It's implied that there's bad flooding going on in Fire Town, because the city wasn't built to accommodate Fire people, which is honestly a real piece of commentary on how cyclical social injustice works.
Despite that, the flooding issue becomes a problem that is temporarily addressed and doesn't really return until the film's climax. Element City was more of a backdrop and an underused gimmick than an actual "character" like you see in other films.
It doesn't help that the side characters in the story aren't that interesting. There's an Earth kid who hangs out with Ember at her store, Wade's Air person boss who shows up to be helpful now and then, and the other Fire people who frequent the store. Other than that, the background characters feel lifeless, like NPCs in a video game.
I only remember these characters' names because they are puns.
That could be a microcosm of the concept - after all, it's hard to create dynamic character design that adds life to background characters when they are all embodiments of physical elements. From a design perspective, it's hard to build personality that way.
Let's wrap it up...
I don't hate this film. In fact, I really enjoyed it. I just think that it has a few weaknesses on a conceptual level that held it back.
What all the Pixar films of the 90s and the 2000s had was the advantage of timing. It's hard to imagine it, but there was a time when Pixar was one of only a few studios putting out CG films. It was really good at making movies that had innovative visuals and impeccable storytelling.
The problem isn't that "Pixar is getting worse." The problem is that "the competition is getting better." Just watch animated movies like Nimona and Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse and you'll see what I mean.
I loved Animal Crossing as a kid - and really, what's not to enjoy? The slice-of life gameplay, the quirky music, and the peaceful atmosphere of the game has made it earn its place as one of the most iconic Nintendo franchises. I played Wild World (DS) and New Leaf (3DS) obsessively throughout grade school and middle school. And like many other people, I spent a lot of my quarantine time playing New Horizons on the Switch.
As many series veterans have been reflecting, New Horizons doesn't quite hold to the same standard as some of the previous titles. For me, one of my favorite part of Animal Crossing was the social simulation aspect. Talking to the animal villagers, hearing them chatter about their lives, and imagining what they get up to when I'm away made the game feel that much more alive for me. And of course, New Horizons watered down the villagers so that they are blank-slate decorations more than actual definite characters.
To celebrate what made these games so memorable to me, I'm going to retell some stories about some villagers who stood out to me for the better...or for the worse.
Goose
When I first played New Leaf in 2012, one of the starting villagers in my town was the chicken named Goose. Now, this is kinda a dumb name - a chicken named Goose? He was also a dumb character, a "jock" personality type, meaning he was always asking me about my workout routines and challenging me to competitions. I wasn't thrilled by his presence in my town, because he wasn't as cool-looking as other villagers I had, like Bianca the glam tiger, Shari the posh monkey, and Sly the camo crocodile.
But the thing I began to love about Goose was that he always stayed. Even when I put down New Leaf for 3 years, he was still in the village when I came back. My interest in the game dropped off around mid-high school, but I found myself returning to it in Sophomore year of college. I was struggling with a lot of things around that time, and returning to my New Leaf town helped me escape from it all. A lot of the villagers came and left during that time, but Goose was still there, and he was still one of my best villager friends.
The last time I played New Leaf was in 2020. I decided to give the game to a friend of mine, so I visited my town for one last time. When I spoke to Goose, he asked me to dig up a time capsule he had me bury months before. It was a poetic way to bring an end to my story with my New Leaf town, and the best way to send off my best villager friend.
Tipper
This story is just embarrassing.
Back when I played Wild World as a ten-year-old, I chose to play as a male avatar. I liked seeing myself as a boy back then and would always choose male player characters when playing Pokémon or other role-playing games. So, while I lived in Wild World as a boy, it made sense that I would give myself female love interests, right?
It's an awkward roundabout way of saying that I had a crush on Tipper, a "snooty" villager type cow who was hard to please but quick to ask for favors. Maybe I liked the fact that she was the only "snooty" villager in my town, and let's be honest, the other two girl personality types in Wild World weren't all that distinct.
So Tipper was my Wild World girlfriend. I wish I could say it was a more archetypically cuter character like Rosie the cat, or that pink squirrel whose name I always forget but pops up everywhere. No, I was smitten with the generic-looking cow wearing mascara.
Then one day, Tipper told me she was thinking of moving. I asked her not to, but the next day, she was gone. I remember I was so angry that I bought an axe from Nook's shop and began cutting down every tree in sight.
So, yeah. Not my best. Eventually, Tipper and I reconciled when we met again in New Leaf a few years later, but part of me could never forgive her for leaving me the way she did. Apparently she's somewhat a popular villager now (at least compared to Goose, whose Amiibo card is being sold for less than $1 while Tipper costs at least $6). As far as I'm concerned, people can have that cow.
Limberg
I just might be the only person in the world whose favorite Animal Crossing character is Limberg. And I will proudly stick to that.
In general, I've always liked the "ugly" villagers, like Harry the hippopotamus or Jitters the cracked-out bluejay. But Limberg is where it started.
The very first time I played Wild World, Limberg was one of the starting three villagers. I thought he looked kind of gross (I thought his five o'clock shadow was clown makeup), and I didn't like his "cranky" personality type. He was the type to laugh when I got stung by bees or blow fumes at me for now reason.
But Limberg was the first villager I really bonded with. My copy of Wild World was bought used from GameStop, so whoever had it before me had changed the time settings to be waaay later in the day than it should have been (for reference, they had it set so that it was 10pm when it should have been 1pm). By that time when I was playing, all the other villagers were asleep. But Limberg must have been suffering from insomnia, because he was always awake at those hours, and always there to talk to me.
The more I got to know Limberg, the more I loved him. I helped him out with his fossil collection, and I hung out at his house a lot. I loved his design and music choice for his house so much that I began to model my own after him. In my own head, I came up with a narrative that he used to be a samurai, but was disgraced and chased from his home after failing to protect his master. Now, he only wanted to find a life of simplicity and solitude, even if it means acting like a grump to chase people away.
I loved Limberg so much that I actually bought his Amiibo card in preparation for New Horizons (it was cheap, too!). I gifted him the samurai outfit and a few other props to help decorate his room the way I imagined it looking like in his glory days.
While New Horizons is a game that prioritizes player autonomy and design over social simulation and character arcs, I still enjoyed being reunited with my old friend Limberg. Because of how busy I've gotten as an adult, I haven't had time to play video games like I used to, so I doubt I will be running into Limberg or my other villager friends any time soon. But I still carry with me comforting memories of late nights on my DS and immersion into a world where everyone knew my name.
I've been wanting to jump-start my blog again, but after one of the busiest (yet best!) years of my life, I haven't had the space to sit down and type out my thoughts about media I care about.
Recently, something happened to pull me out of hiatus. I don't think I'll ever completely reboot my blog - after all, it's not like I had a huge audience, it really was just a thought experiment for me and my writing partner Briana (check out her blog here it's much better / consistent).
I just had to write about this.
RWBY, created by Monty Oum, produced by Rooster Teeth.
As a first-year college student, one of the first things I learned about my roommate is that she was obsessed with the show. She got me to binge all the episodes that existed at the time - Volumes 1-4.
In short, RWBY is an action-adventure anime about teenagers training to be "huntsmen" and being sent off to fight monsters known as "Grimm." It's a fantasy/sci-fi show with heavy references to real fairytales from all around the world. The show gets its title from the names / color schemes of the four main protagonists: Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang.
My thoughts on the show greatly changed over time.
Volume 1...I thought this show was a joke and didn't take it seriously, recognizing the obvious limits of the crew. But the fight scenes absolutely dazzled me.
Volume 2...I was pleasantly surprised by the moments when characters actually got around to talking about their lives and dreams. It wasn't anything new or groundbreaking, but it felt like the writers were beginning to take things a bit more seriously.
Volume 3...Like many others, I was floored by the change in tone. I was heartbroken, distraught, and fully invested. I finally understood what people meant when they said "RWBY is a show that ages with its audience."
Volume 4...Was not impressed by the animation or fight choreography like before, but I still believed in this story and the characters.
Whether I intended it or not, RWBY had become part of my waking thoughts. It was the first way I bonded with my roommate (who would later go on to become one of my closest college friends). I looked up fanart, watched videos discussing theories, and even dressed up in cosplay for Las Vegas' Level-Up Expo.
Me (left, as Yang) and my buddy (right, as Weiss)
being dorks and having a great time in 2019.
You know...before it all went to shit.
So, what drew me to RWBY, when it's far from the best show ever written? Obviously there's lots of flaws in the writing and continuity errors that expose the showrunner's ineptitudes. But first, I want to focus on what I did love about RWBY:
I love how it initially felt like a passion project produced by people who wanted to make a show for its own sake.
I loved the balance between action and comedy, while still giving room for serious moments.
I loved the worldbuilding and how it borrowed from many different fantasy tropes while still having its own identity.
I loved the soundtrack and would listen to the songs almost every day.
I loved how the characters were all unique and full of style.
I loved how the story attempted to "grow" with its audience as darker themes and elements were introduced post-Volume 3.
Maybe what I loved most about RWBY was how I shared it with other fans, including my then-roommate.
Just another group of four dumb kids going on wacky adventures that gradually become more about saving the world.
It's a simple premise to get behind.
The writers can create real moments of emotion when they try.
...and yes, I ship Blake and Yang, but shipping
is far from the most interesting thing about the show.
My roommate and I proceeded to watch every premiere of a new RWBY volume for the next three years. I recall that we started watching Volume 8, but slowly fizzled out, and ultimately stopped. I'll be honest, like a lot of other people, 2020 - 2021 were some of the darkest years for me in terms of my mental health. Without going too deep into my personal life, a lot of my memories of that period are fractured. So for one reason or another, I gave up watching RWBY.
It also didn't help that the year 2019 was a big year for RWBY backlash and every YouTube cartoon commentator seemed to be eager to rip it apart. Honestly, I don't blame them - as I said, the show does have serious flaws. And, though it felt bitter on my tongue to admit it, I finally broke down and admitted to myself, "You know what, the writing isn't that good after all!"
One of the most glaring issues I had was how some of the relationships were handled - Why did Yang call Raven "Mom," when her whole arc was about rejecting her as a parent? Why did Blake get so many love interests? Why didn't Taiyang go and try to find his daughters after they both ran away at separate times? Why do new characters keep getting introduced when our protagonists should've had more screen time?
There is valuable space in my brain that has been used up
to memorize all of the characters in RWBY.
My biggest issue is that the story seemed to be moving too slow. This is understandable, given the limitations of the staff, but when you're a viewer who has to wait a year at least for more story content, it can get a little disheartening when a whole Volume passes by only to just see characters just sitting around a house or fighting one-off bad guys.
Later in 2021, no longer living with that roommate, I decided to revisit RWBY on my own. Maybe I was nostalgic. Regardless, I entered Volume 8 with low expectations.
RWBY Volume 8 poster.
But as it turns out, I actually loved it.
There were real moments of suspense, a long-awaited backstory for one of our longest villains, and a nail-biting ending that left me desperate for more. From what I've heard, the upgrade in writing quality was due to the writing staff hiring more people with actual writing experience. Regardless, I was very pleased with the final product. But I didn't quite feel the same fangirl love that I once did.
This episode in particular scared the crap outta me.
So, here we are at the start of 2023. And what's the status of Volume 9, after being delayed?
RWBY Volume 9 will be released as a Crunchyroll Exclusive. New episodes of RWBY will no longer be airing on Rooster Teeth's website first. In fact, it will be 12 months until it is released for Rooster Teeth website subscribers. A base-level Crunchyroll subscription is $7.99 a month.
Running a company is hard. Being a content creator in the age of the Internet is hard. But Rooster Teeth has shown us time and time again that they are incapable of keeping up with their own pace. In short, Rooster Teeth has a history for abusing its employees (of all departments) and not paying them for all of their hard work.
Now, what does RWBY's move to Crunchyroll tell us?
Well, it's hard to say what this means about media in the long run. Online content creation is still in its infancy, so there is no set rulebook to playing the game. Besides, I'm not exactly privy to the interworkings of this company - I'm just a career writer with dreams of having my own silly little stories getting the spotlight one day. My opinion isn't worth more than anyone else's, in fact it might be worth less, because I was never a fan of Rooster Teeth. I was just a fan of RWBY.
One lesson I am taking away from this is that RWBY as a project was never sustainable. It's had a relatively strong online fanbase, and has garnered some spinoffs, merchandise, and cameo appearances in some video games. But it seems that the peak of RWBY has long since passed.
Don't get me wrong, there are still fans of this show and want to see the story be resolved in one way or another. I, too, want to see a show that meant so much to me and my friends reach a worthy conclusion.
RWBY Volume 9 poster.
Since I recently digested all this information, I've been reeling with a few questions...
What does it mean to be a fan, when the creators are moving their IPs like pieces on a chessboard, while they themselves are just barely treading water?
What does it mean to support a show that was once free to watch on YouTube, but is now gatekept by third party platforms?
This is more than just one online show we're talking about. It's a discussion of larger trends. When you're an indie creator, no one is going to help you without something in return. So it makes sense to corporatize and conglomerate - how else has WalMart and Disney remained king all these years?
It's not easy. Nothing worthwhile is ever easy.
But is it possible to do it without hurting yourselves and screwing over your audience in the process?
My admiration for RWBY is being unbalanced by my disliking for corporate practices. Or perhaps I should have some sympathy for Rooster Teeth. After all, what company does have 100% ethical practices? Being a small group of friends to begin with, did Rooster Teeth really know what they were getting into? If they didn't, then was RWBY a doomed show to begin with, and I've invested all my time into a show that was always going to be half-baked?
I don't watch RWBY because it was the best show ever, I watched it because
that is what my friend and I happened to watch together.
I love it because I invested my own time into it.
I really don't know the answers to all these questions. Maybe, years from now, when this chapter of Internet history is closed, I'll understand. But for this moment, I'm not going to tear apart RWBY or its producers any more.
If there's one thing that RWBY and Monty Oum taught me, it was the value of work ethic and passion for your own art. So that's what I'll do right now.
You know, I can't predict what catches my interest. Sometimes it's just a result of me revisiting something fond from childhood. Sometimes it just pops out of nowhere. What I wanted to do this month was write the finale of the "Were they in love" mini-series. Then this happened.
A few weeks ago, I had this sudden urge to learn more about the Metroid video game series.
Metroid is a series of video games produced by Nintendo. It's not as recognizable as games like the Mario, Pokémon, or even the Zelda franchise. But Metroid has its followers who appreciate the games for what they are.
My first exposure to Metroid (as it is with many people) was when I played a lot of Super Smash Bros Brawl in high school. Smash Bros. is a crossover fighting game staring mostly Nintendo characters. One of the characters featured in the game is Metroid's protagonist, Samus Aran. She interested me because (also like many people) I didn't realize at first that the person in the suit was a woman.
The big twist of the first Metroid game was that Samus was
a girl the whole time.
I did some research onto what the Metroid series was about, and it sounded really cool. All the games star Samus Aran, a bounty hunter taking missions across planets in an untamed galaxy, blasting creatures and surviving on her own in space.
There's a lot to admire about the Metroid series. The gameplay of self-guided exploration of mazes and monsters was revolutionary yet timeless, nowadays referred to as the "Metroidvania" style (the "-vania" part comes from the Castlevania series, which plays similarly, except you're out to kill Dracula).
I tried playing Metroid: Zero Mission, a remake of the first Metroid game for the GameBoy Advance, but unfortunately the style didn't quite click with me. I'm much more of a fan of simulation and strategy games that tell grand stories. The Metroid formula places you on a mission with no tutorial and little to no exposition, to really put yourself into the mind of a lone warrior fighting through alien planets.
The part I most appreciate about Metroid is the aesthetic, which takes many
cues from Ridley Scott's horror masterpiece, Alien (1979).
As much as I respect the Metroid series, it just wasn't for me.
So let's jump back forward in time to a few weeks ago. I had this sudden impulse to learn more about Metroid. As much as the gameplay wasn't my taste, that didn't stop me from wanting to know more about the world and characters. It combines creatures (which I love) and science-fiction (which I don't trust you if you don't love).
That's when I learned about Other M.
Would you believe me if I told you the "M" stands for "Melissa?"
Other M is known as the most story-driven of all the Metroid games. I saw a few clips of the cutscenes, was left dumbfounded by the low quality of voice acting, and knew I had to see the rest. Fortunately, some dedicated gamers upload entire "movie" versions of video games, and I found a two-and-a-half hour cut of the Other M cutscenes.
So, throughout the week, I casually watched the "movie" cut of Other M.
At first, I was interested to see just how bad the voice acting could be. Even if it was bad, I would still enjoy what's practically a movie about some cool action in space, right? There are some amazing video games out there with excellent story and characters, so maybe Other M could be really be a hidden gem.
Well...
I'll keep it simple and do a reader-friendly list of why Other M's story sucks.
1. SAMUS NEVER SHUTS UP.
Stiff voice acting aside, almost all of Other M's cutscenes are overlaid with Samus' boring inner thoughts. Sometimes, exposition is important in a story. After all, you need to catch the audience up on what's important and welcome them into the world. This is especially the case with Other M, because it's technically a sequel.
But holy moly. There can't be a single moment of pause without Samus' dull voice relaying what she's thinking or what's happening in front of her, all the while, her lifeless eyes stare bored into nothing.
That's it, that's the whole story.
Exposition is important, but don't forget that sometimes, less is so much more.
For example (spoilers if anyone cares about this 10 year old video game):
In one of Samus' many flashbacks, she mentions how when she was a recruit in the Galactic Federation (basically the space cops of Metroid), she had a surrogate father-daughter relationship to her commander, Adam Malkovich. It's a running gag that instead of giving him the "thumbs up" to confirm her understanding of a mission, she would always give him a "thumbs down."
Just a teen rebel bickering with her dad before going off to kill giant space demons.
At the game's epilogue, after returning to a civilized planet and recovering from the story's events, Samus looks into the sunset and gives the sky a thumb's up. Symbolically acknowledging the impact Adam had on her life, and proving to herself, and his memory, that she will live on.
Sounds great. Except...Samus' inner monologue is there to explain the symbolism for you. It takes out all the emotional weight out of the scene.
Actions speak louder than words, especially in a visual medium like a video game. So if you have the budget to create these gorgeous looking cutscenes, why would you cheapen it by having a narrator explain to you what's going on?
No shit.
2. IT'S SEXIST
This one didn't come as a surprise to me. After all, the story was written by a dude in the year 2010.
I mentioned before that Metroid took a lot of inspiration from the 1979 movie Alien, which is iconic for the lead character, one of the most effortlessly badass woman in all of cinema.
Alien never made a stink about having "the first female hero," she just was.
That's the fun part about science fiction and imagining the future: You can make the world however you want it to be. For some sci-fi visionaries, like the creator of Star Trek Gene Roddenberry, that meant enlightened future where women and people of color can be high-ranking officers on a starship.
Instead of having a visionary (and freeing) sci-fi story, Other M constantly reminds us that Samus is a woman. Male characters give her cheeky nicknames like "Princess" and jokingly flirt with her, and she just lets them. Pretty much nobody with the Galactic Federation treats her with respect, despite the fact that Samus is an established bounty hunter who has survived countless encounters with deadly creatures.
And of course she won't shut up about BABIES.
Not human babies - an alien baby that Samus befriended in the previous Metroid story. The alien baby was supposed to kill her, but formed an odd bond with her instead, which ultimately proved its worth when the baby sacrificed itself for Samus. She's a space explorer who shared an unlikely but useful friendship with one of the species she was meant to destroy.
But in Other M, Samus won't stop dwelling about it in her monologue, like she's grieving the loss of an actual loved one. It's honestly ridiculous listening to Samus repeat the phrase "the baby" over and over again.
The first female Nintendo main character, and all the writers want to do
is give her some sort of "Mom" arc. Because that's all women are good for,
right?
Don't get me wrong, I love a good inter-species-adoption story, but the way they centered Samus' entire motivation around it was way too much. It's as if the writer of the story went with the assumption that "women are emotional and they happen to be sex objects," and used that as the basis of Samus in each scene. Even though she's still a kick-ass bounty hunter, relying on these tired female-coded tropes undermines everything that was awesome about Samus in the first place.
3. IT'S UNDERWHELMING
I'll be honest, but not a lot really happened in this story. There's gorgeously animated cinematics, but the story they wrote does not match the visuals.
To boil it down, Other M is the story of Samus investigating a distress signal, running into some old friends from the Galactic Federation on an uninhabitable planet, and along the way learning the truth about a scientific experiment gone wrong that the Federation tried to bury. There are keystone moments, like the aforementioned death of Adam Malkovich, but every other plotpoint seems underdeveloped.
It's hard to explain the story in-depth without getting into the weird complexities of Metroid lore (there's a lot), but trust me when I say that pretty much every other character in the plot feels tacked on.
Rest in Peace my expectations.
The director and writer of Other M, Yoshio Sakamoto, has gone on the record saying that he was pleased with how the story turned out, because he wanted a story that explored Samus' character and backstory. Maybe for a game and a world like Metroid, the less that is explored, the better. When you introduce more human characters into a game series that puts more emphasis on exploring the alien and the inhospitable, it kind of kills the fun.
I also suppose he was operating under the assumption that any female-driven narrative must rely on the protagonist's maternal instincts, or her relationship to the men in her life. On its own, it's not entirely a bad thing, but as one of the few female Nintendo characters that has a franchise of her own, and is established in the other games as a strong no-nonsense space warrior, it's not a good look.
In conclusion...
There's a lot about Metroid that doesn't connect with me. But as an enjoyer of good stories, it doesn't take a lot of brain power to figure out why Other M was criticized, and an attempt to have a story-driven Metroid game was never made again.
Sakamoto's intentions for the game seemed very pure - he wanted to write a detailed female character going on an epic quest. Despite his best efforts, the final product feels insincere at best, and hilariously awkward at most.
So if I ever feel like laughing at storytelling that's so forced and unimaginative, I'll definitely return to Other M.
For our viewing pleasure...the Other M "Baby" Supercut
Oh, just in case I discouraged any of my readers of finding good storytelling in video games, here's a short list of some of my favorites:
Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Explores of Time / Darkness / Sky
Back in high school, I took a songwriting class. When my professor was trying to explain to us how to actually make money at music, he told us to follow in the footsteps of the band KISS.
From left to right: the Starchild, the Catman, the Demon, and the Spaceman.
KISS is the band behind earworm radio hits like "I was Made for Lovin' You," and "Rock N Roll All Night." Just by reading the song titles, you can probably hum the rest of the melody yourself.
Even if you didn't grow up in the 70s or 80s, odds are, you're probably familiar with the big hair, leather tights, and black-and-white face paint. Even I do, and I was born in '99.
Rock n' roll will never die...unless you're buried in one of these.
KISS has even made appearances for pop culture aimed at younger audiences, to make sure their legacy lasts forever.
KISS in The Fairly Oddparents (2009).
(2015)
Yes, this is the worst Scooby-Doo movie. Trust me...I know... :(
Going back to my songwriting teacher, he told us that the secret to KISS's success is in their very name itself.
"What does KISS stand for?" he said. "Keep It Simple, Stupid."
KISS is an extremely simple band. They aren't a band that evolves its sound over time and consistently produces music. In fact, most of their CD releases are live recordings of stage performances. They don't innovate or challenge. Despite this, they are one of the most recognizable bands of all time. Why? They Kept It Simple, Stupid.
Here are the two key features of the band KISS that make up what I call, "The Rule of K.I.S.S."
#1 - Exaggeration: The dynamic black-and-white face paint. Gene Simmons wagging his tongue. Broad statements like "I want to rock and roll all night."
#2 - Repetition. Don't innovate or change your design, just bring attention back to what made you big in the first place. If a member of KISS leaves, another member assumes the persona of the person who left it behind.
I think about these two principals a lot, especially when it comes to my own artistic pursuits. Sometimes I can get caught up in elaborate plots and overthink the details I write in my stories. But wouldn't it be better if I just gave up the pretense, thought smaller instead of bigger, and just Keep it Simple, Stupid?
Recently, I picked up a copy of the book Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard. It's the first book in a fantasy YA series. It's also quite popular - as of writing this, on Goodreads, Red Queen has a rating of 4.03 stars based on 811,000 ratings left behind by readers. Not only that, but Victoria Aveyard is successful enough to have multiple book series published. I even got to see her on a panel on sci-fi/fantasy worldbuilding at the Santa Monica book fest, Yallwest.
"Power is a dangerous game."
My friend who went with me to Yallwest told me that Red Queen actually wasn't that good of a book, but I bought a copy anyway, determined to figure out how it became so popular. What I discovered is that Red Queen shows us the Rule of K.I.S.S. in action.
So, how does Red Queen...Keep It Simple, Stupid?
#1 - Exaggeration.
Red Queen is told in first person, so the protagonist, Mare Barrow, gets to tell you everything she's seeing and thinking at any given moment.
The conflict is clearly established within the first few chapters. Red Queen takes place in a world where common Red-blooded people are ruled over by Silver-blooded people. The Silver-blooded people are all aristocrats with superpowers.
Mare's narration uses a lot of metaphors and similes to make the storytelling as vivid as possible. It's the kind of story that you can skim through and understand what's going on. In particular, there's a lot of animal-based descriptions, comparing people to wild like cats, or stinging like wasps. By using familiar animals, it makes the world that much easier to understand.
It doesn't take long for the narration to transition from one place of living to another. In one day, Mare starts as a poor Red who's about to be conscripted into the army, then gets a job working for the Silvers, then produces Silver-like powers that a Red like her shouldn't have. In less than 24 hours, Mare turns from a nobody into a pretend princess engaged to one of the Silver princes. For longer periods of times like weeks, Mare just recaps what's happened without going to deep into detail.
#2 - Repetition.
Silvers are powerful and strong and they take advantage of Reds. Mare wishes she was more like her more gentle and talented younger sister, Gisa. The sisters miss their three older brothers, who all left for war. Mare hates pretending to act like a Silver. She doesn't know what kind of being she is, but somehow, she's special, and it's driving everyone crazy.
The narration repeat itself on these points - a lot. Sometimes it "restates" itself - saying the same thing, but using different words.
A routine is established in the middle arc of the story. It sets up the status quo of Mare living with the Silvers, allowing her freedom to explore the world without the story becoming "lost."
There's a great advantage to all of this, because you're never going to read this book and feel you're missing something, or not understand what the characters are going through. But in the nicest terms, this type of writing comes off as...juvenile.
Yes, yes, I know it's YA, it's not meant to be super dense or cryptic.
But you know what? Sometimes YA can be dense and cryptic. If you want dense, read Twilight. If you want cryptic (and really really really good mystery that pays off in the end) read When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead.
So, what's the lesson here? Should all of us writers limit our ideas and repeat ourselves, hoping that a story that's easier to understand will sell more books?
If I saw fanart of my own characters like this I'd cry tears of joy.
Let's look at another book series that isn't as successful or simple, but is very dear to me.
Get ready for the Magical Depression Lesbians.
Fire Logic is the first in the Elemental Logic series of books by Laurie J. Marks. It's not YA - it's a thick and complicated fantasy novel. The characters in this world operate on different ways of thinking - the titular "logics." For instance, the protagonist Zanja has Fire Logic, meaning she instinctively understands something and knows she must do it, but the reasons why are not clear to her at first. As a reader, you often have to trust the character's own doubt. In the end, it makes for very satisfying storytelling, when all the clues the characters find are put together.
The Elemental Logic series isn't simple. It's complex. It invents its own rules and lore. But when you finally do come to a point of understanding, the payoff is absolutely marvelous.
Also, it's full of gay characters who get married and start families without any persecution (which in itself can be a difficult thing for some readers to accept).
Zanja and her LITERAL GIANT wife Karis. They're not this happy in the book, unfortunately.
On Goodreads, Fire Logic only has about 2,000 ratings - which is 0.2% of the readership that Red Queen has. This is also a bit disheartening when you consider that Fire Logic was published over ten years before Red Queen.
But still.
That's 2,000 people who read this story and cared enough to leave a rating, myself included. Fire Logic may not have the public's attention in the way that Red Queen does, but it did find its audience. It was an important find for me at a time when I doubted that publishers were interested in LGBT stories. Despite not following The Rule of K.I.S.S., Fire Logic is in its own way, a success.
One thing I'm learning to embrace is that even if your writing doesn't reach a huge audience, it will still find its way to someone who appreciates it and understands it in a way no one else can.
In conclusion...should you as an artist: Keep It Simple, Stupid?
I think it depends.
There's nothing wrong with Red Queen. I'm enjoying it in the same way my little sister enjoys Reality TV. It's a little trashy, but it's fun trash. And I admire the intelligence of Aveyard as a writer to know just how simple to keep her storytelling.
But, I will love and appreciate Fire Logic and Laurie J. Marks more for writing a story that is unafraid to take creative risks - especially because those risks paid off.
