Silent Hill: Homecoming (Frustrations)

I cannot even tell you right now how long ago I got this game. I borrowed it first from a friend, then decided that I liked it too much to not own it, and that it was going to take me a fairly long time to play through it, so holding onto his copy wasn’t really nice.

I have this frequent problem. Or I did. I am trying to correct it. It’s a bad habit, and it’s how I ended up with a giant fucking stack of games that were only somewhat played through. I would be in the middle of a game and something would come out that I was more interested in. Now, instead of buying said game and waiting until I finished what I was working on, I would play the new game, leaving the other sad and alone. Crying. On my shelf.

While I did this with Silent Hill: Homecoming, I did manage to pick it up again fairly quickly after I finished whatever wondrous thing had floated my way. I was playing along quite happily, too. Enjoying myself. Yelling at the television when things wouldn’t die. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have a potty mouth. It’s not just when I write.

Then the most horrible of horribles happened. The one thing that every gamer dreads and curses the sky for.

I got stuck.

I did it to myself. I can wholly admit that. It was all entirely my doing. No question. I went into an area with maybe two bullets, a quarter of my health, a crowbar, an axe, and a flashlight. No medical kits. No health drinks. Just wandered on in, didn’t even think about it. Didn’t consider that I’d just found something pretty significant and maybe, just motherfucking maybe, I should take a moment to gather myself so that I wouldn’t be walking into the massive clusterfuck of assrape that I did. No. Not me. I’ll just go right down this pretty creepy ladder here, and… oh. What’s that? Boss you say? Can’t go back, you say? Fucked myself, did I?

I did.

I literally spent weeks trying to find a way to defeat Scarlett with what I had on me. I can admit that I didn’t even come close. Not even mildly. It’s actually pretty laughable how not close I came to killing her and proceeding with the rest of the game. I would laugh, except it’s my problem. Laughing at yourself often gets you a white padded room and a special jacket. Or maybe that’s just how hard I would be laughing, and with the release of emotion might come some added screaming and…

Let’s move on, shall we?

I have previously talked about my quest to wrap up the above noted games, bringing my backlog into some realm of sanity. Coupled with the vow that once I have picked up a game, I will complete it before starting another. (This vow is hard to keep. Obviously I was not made for vows. Or with much willpower when it comes to video games.) The time for Silent Hill: Homecoming did roll around, and lo, I picked it up and with heavy heart did erase my previous game, thus confirming the restart that was fated to occur.

I’ve been enjoying it… I suppose I should say that I had been, had being a very key word here… I had been enjoying it during the replay. There had been enough time and enough other games in that time that I didn’t remember the story perfectly, I didn’t automatically know how to solve the puzzles. It was a little new despite how far I’d gotten. It was okay. It really was.

Until I started thinking about getting to that boss level with the goddamned giant fucking puppet of massive sphincter bleeding. Then I started to get upset. Not with the game, though, with myself. I kept thinking of all the things I could have done differently to prevent this replay from happening. Replaying because you want to is one thing. Doing it because you’ve shoved your own head up your ass is entirely different. It’s just aggravating.

I had to stop playing again. Now it and GTA 4 are the ones staring at me from my shelves, asking me why they aren’t yet finished. SH:H pleading with puppy dog eyes and little whimpering noises. “Just finish me, I’m a good game, I’ll show ya, you enjoyed me before, just pick me up, we’ll have a good time together, promise”. Bastard.

I’m just so annoyed with myself over things that I’m taking it out on the game. I have to get over it, that’s what it comes down to. I have to, and I will. Somehow. Because I cannot just let it linger. It will drive me crazy (obviously we’re significantly down that street, aren’t we?).

There will be another update on this when I finish the damn game.

The Vanguard

I know this was a requested movie. Somebody said that they wanted me to review it, but I can’t think of who it was now.

Whoever you are? I’m sorry. But I couldn’t get any further than about 10 minutes in. It was so very bad. The acting was horrible. The story stopped appealing to me entirely right away, and even the way it looked turned me off.

I’m not a big budget snob, I’ve had plenty of low budget films I’ve enjoyed that look low budget, but there was something about this one I couldn’t tolerate. Maybe because of the other factors. I don’t know.

I tried. I’m so sorry. But I did try.

But obviously I can’t give this a full review.

The guy on the bike also pissed me off for reasons I can’t quite pinpoint.

Mogworld

I can say it – I’m actually pleasantly surprised at how fun and entertaining this book was. I was highly amused the whole time I was reading it. I really enjoyed the book, and hope that he writes more in the future.

It may sound unfair that I should say that, I do, after all, enjoy his reviews of games. I have so enjoyed his game reviews in the past that I’ve been able to overlook if I agree with him or not and just watch them for what they are. And I don’t always agree with what he has to say, of course. Nobody always agrees with somebody unless they’re a complete nutjob.

But just because he does a good job at those doesn’t mean he’s got what it takes to write a book. I don’t think that just because I enjoy writing that these reviews I do are actually viable for money. I do them because I want to talk about the things I interact with, not because I want it to be my job. I think I’d actually hate to review things because I had to.

People who can’t and shouldn’t write are getting a lot more book deals these days. That chick from The Hills got two. Should she be writing? No. Will people buy her shit? Yes. Because they’ve seen her face on TV.

I got a copy of Mogworld at PAX and sort of put it off because I was unsure if I wanted to taint his game reviews with disappointment in his book. I shouldn’t have worried. Because he’s not some twat who got famous doing something else so they gave him a book deal to make cash off of him. He’s really quite talented. I’m very pleased to be wrong in my waiting.

The type of book that Mogworld is is the type that only comes from a writer that really knows their characters. Some writers just push things out for the sake of getting shit done, and some take time to really evolve what they’re writing about.

Not to mention that it was really funny. I literally laughed out loud a couple of times. That’s not an easy task to accomplish. Not that I’m a humorless bitch, but I generally keep quiet while reading. Comes from spending many hours in libraries as a youth, I think.

Sorry to say, anybody who doesn’t have it already is going to have to wait for a second printing. But when that happens, I suggest reading it as soon as you can. Don’t put it off like I did. Because you’re missing out.

Let The Right One In/Let Me In

I’m sure we all recall how I feel about the book and the movie Let The Right One In, yes? That I adore it to pieces and make everybody watch it.

When it was announced that there was going to be an American version made, I was curious. The Wiki for it said the director intended to include some of the things in the book that the Swedish version didn’t. I was expecting that they meant the really vampirey parts. The things where you go “oh shit!” and got kind of excited about it. I mean, it’s not that I wanted a replacement for my movie, it’s just that I wanted to see what could be done with it.

THEN it turns out that instead of adding things, the American director has removed some things. Some VERY IMPORTANT THINGS. I am a little ticked off that names were changed. Yes. Okay. But that’s minor.

It seems that they’ve removed entirely the fact that Eli/Abby is not really a girl, and just made the character a girl. Hello, that’s sort of really important to the story, thanks. That irritates me. There are a couple of other things, too. I was just generally unhappy with the whole thing.

Then, of course, I read up some on it because I was curious again, and discovered that they’re not trying to remake the Swedish movie, but make another version of the movie. Okay. Fine. And then it turns out that the director holds the movie in high esteem, both the original and his own. And that the book is something he adores.

After that, I watched a couple of the trailers for it and now I’m back to being curious and wanting to see it. I want to see what this guy does. I want to see how it all comes out. He’s quoted as saying he thought that the book could make a really great scary story, and while Let The Right One In is psychologically scary, I think I’d like to see what this American director did. And if I’m honest, I did enjoy Cloverfield. I think maybe this guy can do it, do what he thinks he can do without fucking shit up too much. Despite what he did with Eli/Abby.

So I’ll give it, and him, a chance.

Pet Sematary

I have finally become upset over a Stephen King novel. And it’s probably not for any reasons that people normally get upset over them.

I discovered myself increasingly uncomfortable about a third of the way in, when the cat dies and the father decides to bring the cat back. The thing that bothered me? The way he and everybody else treated the cat. The way they ignored it, called it names, stopped referring to it as a he and started calling it it.

It’s not like the cat made the decision to come back to life. It’s not as if it dragged itself up to the super secret special burial ground, dug it’s own hole and plopped in. It’s unfair to treat the cat as some kind of horrible abomination because something was done to it that it had no choice in.

I can see now why in the movie they change the entire emotional makeup of the animal. Making it into some demonic bastard instead of just dumber and ungraceful. Because if they had portrayed the cat the same way as it was in the book, I think a lot of people would have been monumentally unhappy with the treatment it received. It’s one thing to kick a cat and throw things at it when it’s hissing at you and trying to claw you every time you pass by. Quite another when it’s just sitting there being mildly creepy in your general direction.

Now, it’s not like I’m a PETA member, over here. I do love animals, I think they’re awesome. I have my own and they’re spoiled rotten. The Queen’s family isn’t pampered as much as my animals are. But I’ll also eat them, and I’ll also wear them. So don’t get your defenses up and come babbling at me that I only care because it’s a cat.

No, I believe in fair treatment for all our undead brethren. Unless, of course, they decide to mob together and shamble toward me demanding to eat me while I live. Then I’m going to have to take them out. But if they’re just going about their unlives, not hurting anybody, just trying to get along, we shouldn’t treat them poorly. Especially when they’re that way BECAUSE WE DID IT TO THEM.

Bastards.

What did he think, really, what did he think was going to happen when he brought the cat back to life? That it was going to be a normal, living, breathing animal? That it was going to retain all the signs of what it is that makes alive things alive? I say the prick got what he deserved.