The Jedi Academy Reopens

I was quick to pick up, and play through, the Nintendo Switch ports for Jedi Knight II: Jedi Outcast and Jedi Knight: Jedi Academy. Outcast was a title I’d never really played before and didn’t have much of an attachment to. Academy, on the other hand, was the game I had played a lot in high school. It didn’t get as much multiplayer time as the Halo games or Far Cry, but I thoroughly enjoyed the lightsaber combat and the sense of deep immersion within the Expanded Universe.

I had great fun with both games in their new lives as current-gen console ports by Aspyr. But my nostalgic connection to Jedi Academy made this the game I was more excited to revisit. I found that the lightsaber combat was a little more frustrating than I remembered, although after spending so much of Outcast without a lightsaber, it was great to come into the game with that signature weapon and some basic Force powers readily available. And I have evolved as a person and as a Star Wars fan, so while I still liked the cute references to the old continuity, I wasn’t as enraptured by these nods and winks, and I focused more on the story itself. It’s too bad, because the story is very mediocre.

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Academy hits many of the same beats as Outcast. You’re improving in the use of the Force while hunting down a band of Dark Side cultists preparing to take over the galaxy. There is a pivotal duel with a secondary antagonist in which the protagonist must wrestle with the temptation of the Dark Side. There is a final battle within a temple as the primary antagonist attempts to tap into an ancient power. And there’s weird stuff about pulling the Force from people/places. The secondary antagonist of Outcast even becomes the primary antagonist of Academy. Plus, Kyle Katarn remains sarcastic and bordering on the edge of having a real personality, though he moves from protagonist to mentor/support character.

Academy mixes things up by focusing on customization and choice. That plot point about facing the Dark Side is actually a player choice in Academy, resulting in a Light or Dark ending–which had been a feature of Outcast’s predecessor. (I don’t think I’ve ever played through the Dark Side ending, because the choice is either killing an unarmed and pathetic former “friend”/rival or sparing him.) And the larger plot is told over just a few bigger levels, with the majority of the game coming in the form of available missions that you choose from. Before each mission, you pick your starting weapons and level up Force abilities. And you can choose to complete all the missions within a given chapter of the story or skip the last one to go onto the next big story quest. These choices are meant to provide a sense of customization and non-linearity, but they result in only trivial variation in order rather than real impact (and as far as I can tell, you’re just missing out on an extra Force point by skipping a mission).

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The biggest player impact on how the game appears is through customization of the protagonist. You can choose the gender and species of your character, Jaden Korr; can select from several face, torso, and pant options with clothing trim color choices; and can pick a lightsaber hilt and color. Later on in the game, you can even choose to dual-wield lightsabers or carry a double-bladed saber. But while your lightsaber choices at least feed into combat, the other choices are purely aesthetic. And for that reason, it’s very bizarre that the game limits you to certain races for men and for women. You can be a human male or female, but you can only be a female Zabrak or Twi’lek, while you can only be a male Kel Dor or Rodian. On top of that, there’s only one male voice and one female voice. This means that, when I played through the game this time as a Kel Dor, the wry, clear voice of a human male was jarringly inserted, without any sort of filtration or mechanization, over the blank staring of my protagonist. With Plo Koon’s deep, muffled voice in mind, it was quite the disconnect to hear a voice apparently unrestrained by the respiratory apparatus over Jaden’s mouth, and a lot of character moments were oddly muted–especially since the graphics don’t allow for any expression of emotion in the character’s brows. If you’re going to just assign the same voice to every race of the same gender, why limit the race/gender pairings at all?

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This game feels very much of its era, down to female characters in skimpy and outrageous outfits, including a Zabrak woman wearing boots with heels as displayed in many of the loading screens. As one might imagine, hetero teenage me didn’t mind that so much, but now, it’s some uncomfortable baggage.

But importantly, even with my critiques, and even with my occasional frustrations with a particular opponent or scenario in the game, I still had a lot of fun. I liked playing a Kel Dor hero. I liked exploring planets from the movies and the EU. I liked the references to Luke’s early students like Corran, Tionne, and Streen. I liked the goofy weirdness of the plot and its insistence that players be familiar not just with the previous game’s story but with a dozen other stories and characters as well for maximum appreciation. The New Jedi Order series ended in the same year that Jedi Academy came out, so this was the peak for wild, weird, edgy, self-referential Star Wars, at the very edge before I finally got burnt out. I was reminded of that feeling and that setting when I played the game again. And I got to swing a lightsaber a lot, so it was still worth my time. If you’re already a fan, you don’t need me to sell you on it. And if you’re not a fan, the loose controls, dated graphics, and casual density of background lore might not be appealing. I guess this post was just for me, and others like me, who maybe could use a little escape into nostalgia during a particularly dark time for America.

Guest Essay: On Coffee Talk

My wife, Samantha, has her own blog/podcast (link here) in which she discusses her struggles and triumphs in dealing with mental illness, advocates to reduce stigma and encourage active engagement in addressing mental health concerns, and shares stories from others. She has also become incredibly addicted to indie visual novel game Coffee Talk (developed by Toge Productions). I’ve watched her play this game for hours and hours and hours over the past few weeks, and I asked if she’d be willing to write about her personal experiences with this game. Without further ado, her response follows.


For quite a few people, the ability to sit down in their kitchen with a hot cup of coffee in the morning is one of the most serene, comforting, and refreshing things that they can do. It’s the best way to start the day off on the right foot, including for myself. To have some perspective, there is always a box of k-pods in my desk drawer at work that I restock on the regular. So what is it about coffee culture? Especially for those that drink coffee in the afternoon or night?

While the game Coffee Talk doesn’t give an answer, it gives us a peek into what a piece of this culture could be. Particularly, those who are regulars at a local coffee house. 

I was introduced to Coffee Talk (CT) by a tweet from someone in the mental health community of Twitter. 

“Play this game!”

“It’s perfect for those who have anxiety!”

“It’s not stressful at all!”

At first, I thought that these claims MUST’VE meant that the game was boring, but after a serious anxiety attack I had, I gave in and purchased the game on the Switch. I then was drawn into the recursive storyline and lives of the Toge Production team’s characters: Baileys and Lua, Hyde and Gala, Aqua and Myrtle, Hendry and Rachel, Jorji, Neil, and finally Freya. It’s a big cast of characters, but the pacing works well enough. There is clearly an arc that wins out over everyone else’s, and that arc is the Love of My Life arc with Baileys and Lua. This is outside of the frame story of Freya’s novel-writing.

I don’t want to give spoilers because the story is the game. CT is kind of like a visual novel, except the results of the conversations and ending are totally dependent upon your drink-making. If you don’t make quite the right beverage, it will affect the ending and your friendship level with the characters. That being said, probably the “most stressful” times are when you are making new drinks for people, especially when you don’t have a clear recipe, but it still manages to be low stakes. This is because you are caught in what we can assume is a time loop (THAT IS ALL I’M GOING TO SAY ABOUT THE ENDING) and you get the chance to fix any mistakes you may have made. I wouldn’t say that it’s intuitive that you know to restart with the same file, but the game explicitly has at the end of the credits that the main story has been completed but there is still more content to discover. I still haven’t 100-percented it, but I’m pretty close. It’s a short game after all.

So on top of the peaceful lo-fi music and comfy coffee shop design, I found the arcs pretty compelling. There are a total of six arcs; Jorji is mostly used as comic relief and as the wise black man. Here’s a breakdown of the arcs:

  1. Baileys and Lua: An interracial relationship with disapproving parents
  2. Hyde and Gala: A friendship between a vampire and a werewolf, and the werewolf’s struggle to control the damage that he could cause
  3. Aqua and Myrtle: Another interracial duo that we can assume is in a developing lesbian relationship
  4. Rachel and Hendry: A father-daughter relationship dealing with growing pains and the loss of a loved one
  5. Freya: Just a girl trying to finish a draft of a novel in three weeks
  6. Neil: the alien on a mission

Each of these pique my interest with regard to mental health: grief, acceptance, PTSD, anxiety, self-harm. My favorite? The Hyde and Gala arc because it is quite explicit in the representation of self-harm and PTSD. The only thing lacking in this arc is how Hyde fits into the picture in the present-day.

The cast of characters work so well together. They begin to interact outside of their bubbles, and you see a community being built. It demonstrates the power of a safe space for people. Whether it be a local pub or a coffee house. But in the case of the coffee house, the drinks, including coffee, tea, green tea, milk, and chocolate, are meant to soothe and comfort an individual. It allows the characters to relax in a way that alcohol from a pub could never do. Barriers are broken down. People advise, motivate, commiserate…It’s its own biome.

If you have the patience to do-over the same scenes and dialogue, the game is pretty fun. I enjoyed figuring out the drinks and discovering new dialogue. I would go as far as to say that the repetition of the game is soothing and anxiety-reducing. You are comfortable with the story because eventually it becomes predictable…that doesn’t particularly seem appealing, but one of the most important things that someone with anxiety needs is consistency. Anything that is out of the norm disrupts everything unless an individual has a good handle over their anxiety.

That said, Coffee Talk isn’t everyone’s cup of tea (or coffee), but it has been a fulfilling experience for me. Give it a try, or just enjoy the vibes of the game as you watch someone play it. If anything, I guarantee a chill experience.

For a quick chat about Coffee Talk, you can check out my podcast episode “Coffee Talk “Review””.

On playing Divinity: Original Sin II

I’ve been playing Divinity: Original Sin II on the Switch. It’s a game that often frustrates me, and I love it. It’s a big, sprawling RPG with so many options to approach just about any scenario, and those options spin out into other consequences down the line, yet it still focuses heavily on combat and confines you to (quite large) sub-regions to explore rather than a totally interconnected world. It’s been a long while since I’ve tried to play a traditional CRPG, and this isn’t traditional exactly, but it’s clearly one example of what the genre has grown into, and it also happens to be an excellent example of the genre as a whole. (It’s therefore not at all surprising to me that Larian Studios is developing Baldur’s Gate III).

Many of my friends absolutely love this game, and their high opinions of it got me to eventually try it. I’m glad I did, because it really does stand up to the hype, even though this type of CRPG isn’t usually my cup of tea. So it might not be the tea that I like, but it’s exactly the sort of tea that can make someone reach out of their comfort zone and experiment with something new. That said, I still suck incredibly at it. I’m not much of a tactician, and even playing at the classic difficulty setting, the game kicks my ass all over the place. Thankfully, it’s very generous with saves (auto-saves, user-created quick-saves, and traditional saves at almost any time), and I’ve adapted my playstyle to save early and often. I quick-save during battles so that I can jump back to a moment in time when the luck of the draw is in my favor, or to test a particular tactic and reset if it all goes south. The turn-based combat system encourages thoughtful battle strategies, but the slightly randomized, stat-dependent outcomes and freak occurrences mean that it’s hard to be sure of what will happen next. I like experimenting with powers and abilities, taking advantage of splitting up the party to place units stealthily before a fight, or exploiting (or creating) an environmental effect. But I’m still just not very good at it. (Yes, you can retreat from combat, and I have done so, but fleeing isn’t the easiest thing, and if I fled from every battle going south, I’d just end up with depleted resources and little progress.)

The game is thus frustrating for me. But I keep coming back to it. Often, taking a break has been beneficial, as it gives me time to approach a difficult encounter fresh. For example, there was a particularly horrid witch named Alice Alisceon. This monster could easily one-hit-kill my party. No matter what I tried, even after consulting strategies online, I couldn’t get the fight finished successfully. So I gave up and left the game for the longest time yet: a couple of weeks. When I finally came back to it this weekend, things clicked into place for me, and I had some particularly lucky occurrences, and while it still required a lot of luck and reloading, I finally managed to beat her. This was immensely satisfying, though the effort left the unpleasant side effect of having the battle cry “Bubbling skin and burning knuckle” burrowed into the memories of my wife and myself.

It’s not just combat that can be tricky. I approached a ferryman shortly after. Okay, he was undead and offered shady assurances that he could take us safely through an incredibly lethal type of poisonous fog, but I trusted the video game to only give me the option to ride the ferry if it wasn’t going to kill me without a choice. Sure enough, the game took me across the lake–but dropped me to minimal health, dumped paralyzed on the opposite shore’s dock, with an extended bit of mocking dialogue from the ferryman. And only then did I die. Wow! The game openly antagonized me for metagame thinking–good for it, honestly! But I did not expect the game to let me go that far down a path that led to an instant death without any chance to fight back from it. I like that, and I was annoyed by it at the same time…

I will say that the constant death and retries take me out of the roleplaying. It’s hard to stay on top of motivations, or even to act in an internally consistent manner, when I’m doing something over and over again and dying repeatedly to get through it. It’s weird when I have to arbitrarily turn around or make what feels like an out-of-character choice just to avoid an option that I know leads to certain death. It’s kind of a shame because I actually really love the members of my party (though I’ll save a discussion of them for a later review when/if I finish the game).

I think my experience with the game will continue to be a continued love-hate balance. After finally defeating Alice, I spent way too many hours playing through more of the game, struggling through more battles, over this weekend. It’s why I’m posting so late today. It’s definitely why I decided to write something about it. It’s exhausting and it demands a lot and I keep wanting to feed it. I don’t think it’ll reach my Top Ten of All Time list of games or anything, but I can totally understand why this has become a favorite for so many people.

Review: Sonic the Hedgehog movie

For Valentine’s Day, my wife and I saw Sonic the Hedgehog. Okay, that sounds like a terrible Valentine’s Day date, perhaps, but if you know my wife well, you know that she’s long loved the blue blur. I’m glad we went because she really liked the movie. However, I did not.

I didn’t hate it. It’s a middle-of-the-road, family-friendly comedy adventure. Ben Schwartz does a very good impression of Jaleel White’s Sonic, turned up to an obnoxious degree of hyperactivity, loneliness, and selfishness. James Marsden is Tom Wachowski, Sonic’s reluctant protector and partner, a small-town sheriff thrust into a larger-stakes scenario just as he prepares to leave that small-town life behind; he’s more charming here than he was as Cyclops. Jim Carrey is peak Jim Carrey as Dr. Robotnik, and most of the best moments in the film revolve around him. There are a few other solid supporting characters, including Tom’s supportive wife (Tika Sumpter) and his bumbling but good-natured deputy (Adam Pally), Robotnik’s long-suffering sidekick (Lee Majdoub), and the town’s lunatic hunter appropriately named Crazy Carl (Frank C. Turner). There aren’t really any bad performances. There aren’t really any slow moments (fast-paced is only appropriate for a Sonic film). There are plenty of jokes that fall flat, but just as many that landed a good laugh.

The story is remarkably bland and not much dependent upon Sonic as a character. In this version, Sonic grew up on an island that resembled Green Hills Zone. He was raised by a new character, an owl named Longclaw. His great speed represented an unusual power in the universe, and Longclaw wanted to hide it, but the reckless young speedster relished in racing about his home. Echidna hunters track him down and attempt to capture him. They mortally wound Longclaw, who supplies Sonic with a bag of dimension-hopping rings and tells him to keep jumping from planet to planet whenever he is discovered. The rings open portals to whatever place Sonic thinks about.

Time passes, and Sonic develops a quiet and comfortable life outside the small town of Green Hills, Montana. In a moment of exasperation and despair over his loneliness, he supercharges himself and unleashes a powerful EMP blast that knocks out power throughout the northwestern United States. The U.S. government deploys Robotnik, an unstable but brilliant scientist, to track down the source of the blast. Sonic prepares to run, but through a series of unfortunate events, he is tranquilized by Tom. As he passes out, he thinks of the city depicted on Tom’s shirt–San Francisco. Unfortunately, this activates a dropped ring, and his bag of rings falls in. Now he’s stuck on Earth unless he can get to San Francisco and track the bag down. When he awakens, he enlists Tom’s aid to escape Robotnik until he can fully recover, and then he ropes him into a road trip to San Francisco when he points out that no matter how fast he can run, he doesn’t know where he’s going.

Tom and Sonic form a friendship despite all obstacles in their way. The biggest obstacle is Sonic, who is truly very annoying. But Sonic and Tom do help each other to grow over the course of the film, and Sonic becomes slightly less annoying as he actually develops real connections with other people. Robotnik, on the other hand, becomes increasingly insane and destructive. The day is saved through the power of small town living and friendship.

It’s a pandering, soggy mess with plenty of moments that don’t make a whole lot of sense. It relies on excessive use of the frozen-time sequences popularized by depictions of Quicksilver or the Flash (and Sonic in fact is shown reading old Flash comics), yet it often treats Sonic as operating under normal human perceptions when that’s more convenient. But that said, it’s never awful. It doesn’t feel as fresh or imaginative as Detective Pikachu. But in a world full of truly awful video game movies, Sonic the Hedgehog is unique in being merely average.

It will probably make you laugh, though you probably won’t feel much else for this movie unless you’re a fan. Nostalgia is a powerful emotion, and my wife loved it precisely for the many, many references to the franchise’s nearly thirty years of history. I’ve played enough of the games and read enough of the comics and watched enough of the shows, and most importantly absorbed enough of the characters and lore through prolonged exposure to my wife, such that I often got a thrill of recognition at the various references made. References include:

  • The opening island and town both referencing the Green Hills Zone;
  • The ubiquitous use of rings and their distinctive sound effects, including a moment when Sonic falls from an explosion and collapses among rubble and bouncing rings, much like whenever he’s damaged in the games;
  • Sonic using attacks that include his classic spin dash and a variety of jump attacks;
  • A drawing by Crazy Carl that resembles the Sanic meme;
  • The echidna hunters at the start of the game resembling Knuckles and his tribe;
  • Robotnik having blueprints for other robotic vehicles that resemble some of his boss battle vehicles from the games, and a label in his breaker panel for “Badniks,” the name for his robotic army;
  • The basic plot of the game, with Sonic teleported to Earth, allying with a local, and being chased by the military/government and Robotnik, mirroring the basic plot of Sonic X;
  • Chase sequences in the latter half of the film referencing moments from various Sonic games, including a direct visual reference to the “City Escape” level of Sonic Adventure 2;
  • The mushroom planet Sonic intends to escape to from Earth appearing to be a nod to the Mushroom Hill Zone and perhaps more barren areas of some depictions of the planet Mobius; and
  • The credits beginning over a series of pixelated animations that reinterpret the events of the film in a way that mirrors gameplay of several of the original games.

I’m sure there are other references I forgot or didn’t even catch. As an example of a reference that I definitely didn’t get, but that my wife loved: there was a cowboy hat Sonic wore that was reminiscent of a hat associated with some versions of Knuckles.

References alone don’t make a movie good, though. At best, for a recognized property, they can be a nice sort of seasoning on top. But in this case, while I enjoyed picking up on references, I found many of them to be little more than reminders of what a Sonic movie could have been. There are so many different storylines, each with their own lore, and so many characters that could have been used. Instead, we take Sonic out of his element. While Sonic mostly feels right, and Carrey’s Robotnik seems just about perfect, it’s disappointing that none of the many other characters in the Sonic ‘verse were used. I think most people who became or remained fans of Sonic in the post-3D era are fans at least in part because of the elaborate characters with their colorful designs and distinctive personalities. The shifting relationships between characters, and the core dynamics that remain the same between the central figures, keep things compelling, at least on a soap opera-type level. And we get none of that here.

The movie was fine. I don’t regret seeing it, yet I don’t have any desire to see it again. But there is something that does excite me. If you care about spoilers for this movie, this is the time to stop reading. There were two mid-credits scenes. One involved Robotnik eking out an existence on the mushroom planet, further descended into madness and more closely resembling his video game counterpart. But the one I got excited for was the second: Tails appears! Tails! When Tails showed up, I actually growled, “YES!” He looks like the perfect boy that he is. And his voice and dialogue, however brief, were perfect as well–eager, optimistic, and determined. (The voice should be perfect, given that it’s apparently Colleen Villard, who voices Tails in more recent games and in the Sonic Boom series.) He’s using some sort of electronic device to track Sonic, he’s determined to save the day, and he’s also really fast (I especially loved that component–he’s often depicted as using a plane or some other technology to keep up with Sonic, but his original incarnation in the game tailed right along with the hedgehog, and I’ve long taunted my wife with “Tails is faster” based on our experiences with Sonic the Hedgehog 2 multiplayer.) Sure, I didn’t care for this movie. But I’d love to see a sequel in which Tails and Sonic team up. Even better, I hope that they return to Sonic’s home world–and maybe they’ll have the chance to meet with some of his other classic allies. I’m not looking for a Sonic Cinematic Universe, and I don’t want it, but I would like another big-screen story or two that realizes the potential of Sonic’s many supporting characters.

My Favorite Stories of the Decade

Well, this is over a month late, but I wanted to reflect a little on the media I’ve consumed over the past decade. It’s hard to think about this clearly; my memory doesn’t work linearly enough to easily track the different stories I’ve come across over the past ten years. It’s wild to me that I’ve been out of high school for so long that it’s been almost 13 years now, but at the same time, it feels like it’s been even longer than that. A lot of my tastes and opinions have evolved considerably since my late teens and early twenties, which feel sort of like a single, solid lump of time, even though we’re talking about a period as long as almost two decades ago and as recent as 6 or 7 years ago. Many of the stories that defined my early adult sensibilities were first encountered during that period. I didn’t even start reading comics until late into high school or early into college! These shifting memories are even more complicated because on many occasions, I’m not encountering a film or book or game until years, or even decades, after its release.

I haven’t had this blog long enough yet to say that I really have traditions, but I do like to post a start-of-the-year recap of my favorite games I’ve played in the past year. Since we’re entering a new decade (even though this blog hasn’t been around for nearly as long), it seemed like a fun opportunity to look back over a longer period. But this site is, if nothing else, an ongoing catalog of What I’m Into Now, and that’s bigger than just video games. If I’m writing about any single thing on this site, if I could encapsulate what my mission is here, it’s to record how I react to stories across various media.

So, for a look back over a decade, I wanted to do more than just my favorite games. What were my favorite stories across video games, books, films, and television shows? But I have to then consider how I’m narrowing that list. For my video game retrospectives, I normally include all games I’ve played within the review period. I could simply include all stories I’ve experienced for the decade, but that’s just too broad, and too susceptible to inaccuracy. When did I really first watch this movie, or play that video game? What if I’d read something in my childhood but rediscovered it as an adult and fell in love? Is it fair or useful to compare an established classic with a new, unproven work?

What I settled on was a data set that only included works published within the past decade, from the start of 2010 through the end of 2019. Whereas my year-end reflections encompass five games, a list of ten favorite stories seemed appropriate for a decade–ten stories for ten years. That number becomes more interesting if I actually make it only one story per year. I’ve only been writing this blog for a few years now, and I’ve thus written more about (and paid more attention to) stories I’ve encountered in those last few years, and therefore my list would naturally lean heavily toward the last few years of the decade. To counteract this, I’ve decided to include only one favorite for each year, although I’ve allowed myself some latitude with television and have still included some runners-up for particular years.

With those rules in mind, here’s my current list of favorite stories from the 2010’s. Whether that list would be the same in another month or year or decade remains to be seen…Regardless, let’s get to it, starting with 2019 and working our way back to the beginning of the decade.

2019: Kitbull (Rosana Sullivan)

This is such a touching story. Beautiful animation, and it’s absolutely heartbreaking. Some people might view it as a little too saccharine, but I am here for it. I like short fiction, and this is a cute and compelling short film that demonstrates how a minimalist story can communicate something much bigger than its individual moments.

2018: Christopher Robin (Marc Forster)

Look, I loved Winnie the Pooh as a kid. The characters have always held a special place in my heart, and I’ve never really let go of that. Christopher Robin is to Winnie the Pooh as Hook is to Peter Pan. The cynical view would be that this movie is a nostalgia grab. But I still found that the movie spoke to me, aided by excellent performances and lovable interpretations of the stuffed animals. This is the kind of movie I could contentedly watch again and again.

Runner-Up: BlacKkKlansman was funny, challenging, and different. It offers wacky performances and outlandish storytelling with sadly too many truths and connections to reality. Probably the better film of the two I’ve indicated for 2018, it’s also one that I’d be less likely to return to.

2017: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (Nintendo)

2017 was absolutely the hardest year for me to isolate a single favorite. At the end, I’ve picked one, along with three runners-up. My favorite (for now) was The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. It might be my favorite video game of all time. It actually made me interested in Zelda. It had just enough characterization and backstory to keep me invested, but the story was so pared-down that you were often making up a narrative as you played through the game. More than any other Zelda game I’ve even attempted to play, this was the game that really showed the joys of exploration. That included exploring the world, but also exploring alternative options to combat and to puzzles. I just want more of this! I can’t wait for more news about the Breath of the Wild sequel.

Runner-Up: Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Rian Johnson). I’m personally pleased that this list isn’t overrun with Star Wars stories. I picked The Last Jedi because it made some of the boldest choices since The Phantom Menace and The Empire Strikes Back before it. Each of these films took the franchise in a new direction and did new things with how these movies are made and what they mean, for better or worse. At the same time, no Star Wars is perfect. And for many, I just named the best and the worst of the franchise in comparison to The Last Jedi. Even setting aside the bigoted trolls, this film has resulted in a deep divide among fans and general moviegoers. For me, I love this movie and think it’s one of the better-made, more interesting Star Wars films, but it is a slower-paced movie with a clunky middle section, and as a result, I’ve always preferred The Force Awakens as a film to watch over and over again. After The Rise of Skywalker, I now feel that The Last Jedi was the pinnacle of the sequel trilogy. This isn’t some wildly experimental film, but it really highlights how safe J.J. Abrams played it with the other two movies.

Runner-Up: Star Wars: From A Certain Point of View. This was a collection of short stories that retold various moments of A New Hope from the perspective of supporting characters. It helped fill in moments in the new canon, even while remaining a sort of canon-lite bit of storytelling given its dependence upon, well, subjective viewpoints. This had a lot of strong writing, too. “The Kloo Horn Cantina Caper” by Kelly Sue DeConnick and Matt Fraction remains my single favorite bit of Star Wars writing ever.

Runner-Up: Kita Kita (written and directed by Sigrid Andrea Bernardo) is a weird, subversive, surprisingly sweet rom-com about two lonely Filipino expats living in Japan. The third act takes such a surprising twist that is initially absurd and ultimately sentimental, and it is that third act that makes the film. It’s a rom-com that stayed with me after watching, and I think it’s worth holding out as special for that reason alone.

2016: A Fox In Space (Matthew Gafford)

This fan production by Matthew Gafford attempts to retell the Star Fox story with a more “mature” perspective, plenty of humor, and an animation and sound design that echoes cartoons of decades past. So far, besides several in-production clips, only one episode has released. I don’t remember how I even found out about it. But I’m something of a Star Fox fan, and I’ve always thought that it would be fun to see an ongoing cartoon or comic that really mined the setting and characters while providing a more compelling narrative and a deeper lore. This fan pilot does that, whether or not we ever get a full second episode or beyond.

Runner-Up: Zootopia (written and directed by Byron Howard and Rich Moore) is another movie that I can just watch again and again. It’s sweet and funny. It’s a little overly broad in its allegories about race and class, but it still has something to say for a younger audience (especially in that even a good person can hold prejudices they have to work to identify and overcome, and experiencing discrimination in one area does not mean that you can’t also benefit from privilege in other ways).

2015: Bridge of Spies (Steven Spielberg)

I love Tom Hanks. I love Steven Spielberg. I love a good movie about an attorney working within or against the system to attempt to do good. I love spy stories, especially Cold War spy stories. How could I not love this movie? I hadn’t thought about it much recently, but my wife brought it up recently as one of her favorite movies of the past decade, and I found that I agreed.

2014: The Lego Movie (Phil Lord and Chris Miller)

Instead of a boring licensed-product kids’ movie, The Lego Movie was wild, raucous fun, loaded with a goofy, sardonic sense of humor and altogether too many references to the wide number of franchises that Lego has worked with. Lord and Miller are such a creative writing/directing team, and this movie has some tremendous voice acting performances. And The Lonely Island’s “Everything Is Awesome” is just such an ear worm, even while representing the bland consumerist society that we should work to shake ourselves free of. This is a movie layered in irony and contradiction; that a Warner Bros. production even attempts to interrogate some of the hypocrisies and fallacies of the very culture the studio and the Lego toyline are a part of is really something.

2013: A Natural History of Dragons (Marie Brennan)

I think I somehow got this eBook free through some sort of promotion. Or maybe it was just heavily discounted. I didn’t seek it out, and I didn’t know what I was getting into. It won me over quickly, though. I was often chuckling at the witty language from the first few pages, and the story moved along at an exciting pace. This book is fantasy filtered through a contemporary reaction to Jane Austen and H. Rider Haggard. This book was so clever and original. I’ve never moved on to the later books in the series, but I’d always be happy to recommend this first book.

Runner-Up: Pacific Rim. Guillermo del Toro always makes interesting, unique genre films. Pacific Rim was such a fun movie, a joyous homage to the very Japanese staples of kaiju and mechas. Still, it’s a light, airy romp; it’s not much deeper than face value. I think it’s a lot of fun, and it stuck with me. That’s enough!

2012: Mass Effect 3 (BioWare)

On my first completion of Mass Effect 3, I thought the ending I chose was tragic but fitting. I chose Synthesis. It felt right, after all that I had come to learn about the relationship between synthetics and organics over the past three games. It felt like a satisfying conclusion to the evolving storylines and character relationships that had begun with humans shooting Evil Synthetics back in the original game. I liked that I still had a choice, but with the way I’d played Shepard, with how I’d interacted with so many synthetics and even bonded with a few, with how we’d brought peace between Geth and Quarians, this final decision felt like the right choice.

I liked the fusion of gameplay elements from the first two titles. I liked the exploration, the resource-gathering, the sense of a desperate fight against an overwhelming opponent. I liked fleeing from Reapers across the galaxy as I tried to reach out to new worlds.

I was shocked to realize that so many people hated Mass Effect 3, and that so many people hated it because of how it ended. Of course I’d love a happily ever after for Commander Shepard, but he became a part of everyone in the end; he became an epic hero to always be remembered. And that ending felt like an ending made for me; everyone played a slightly different character, with a different gender and appearance and background and set of personality traits. Their choices and experiences were all slightly different. We had to end it somehow, and the few choices available felt thoughtful. I saw the conclusion as beautiful and meaningful, more than Shep somehow managing to kick All The Reaper Ass would have been.

Regardless of how contentious the ending proved to be, this story was deeply affecting to me and felt like a satisfying conclusion to the saga.

2011: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim (Bethesda Softworks)

It’s kind of wild to realize that it’s been almost a whole decade since we last had a new main title game in The Elder Scrolls franchise. This might be my wife’s favorite RPG. For me, I appreciated the return to the weird that made me love Morrowind so much, that felt lacking in Oblivion.

The two factions in the great civil war that centers much of the game are both despicable, more flawed than honorable, and it’s easy to simply stand apart from them. Underneath the senseless violence that straddled a war of religion and a war of secession, there was a larger existential threat brewing that most people in the state of Skyrim were oblivious to or refused to care about. In a way, that works as a nice allegory for contemporary society and the impending existential threat of climate change.

I’ll be honest: I’ve never finished the main story. My wife has, but I couldn’t maintain interest. I spent dozens of hours in the game nonetheless, wandering the world, uncovering secrets, fighting monsters, taking on jobs, making friends. Once more like Morrowind over Oblivion, the game was at its most fun when you were making your own stories, not worrying about the main plot, and it didn’t try to keep shoving that main plot in your face like Oblivion did with its Oblivion Gates. Then again, I’ve played through the main stories of Morrowind and its expansions at least a couple times because they were so engaging and weird and ambiguous! Morrowind rewards textual interpretation, and I didn’t feel the same experimentation with ambiguity and competing narratives in Skyrim. And while Skyrim was weird, it wasn’t quite as original as Morrowind. The fourth title clung to The Lord of the Rings, and the fifth to Conan the Barbarian, but the third pulled from everything and in so doing made something that felt wholly original.

My feelings about Skyrim are complex, but I still lost myself in that world for hours and hours on end.

2010: Adventure Time (Frederator Studios, 2010-2018)

Adventure Time almost spanned the whole decade, but it started in 2010, so it’s standing in as my favorite for that year. It was quirky, irreverent, fantastic, bizarre, and funny, and it managed to tell so much story in so little time. Aimed at kids, but with interesting concepts (especially in the later seasons) and a strong focus on the complex emotional bonds and fluid relationships shared between the characters, and a tendency to reward attention to detail, it was just as fun for adults. Plus, it’s loaded with references to anime, old cartoons and video games, and Dungeons & Dragons. It refused to be just any one thing, and even by the end of the series, it juggled beauty and horror and an epic scope with sweet character moments and silly gags. It was great.

Now that I’ve reached all the way back to 2010, please let me know what your favorite stories of the past decade have been!

My Five Favorite Games in 2019

As with 2018, I’d like to discuss my top five favorite games that I played in the past year. These are the games that I most enjoyed when I played them in 2019; they weren’t necessarily released in that year.

1. Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice

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The attention to detail and careful research involved in crafting an accurate and unique depiction of the nexus of mental illness, a specific historical setting, and mythology make this game stand apart. But it’s also just short enough, with a simple enough set of moves to master in combat, that you can plow through it in a day. Even on the Switch, it’s a beautiful game. And while progression was linear, I liked that it still managed to feel like a game of exploration–aided greatly by the use of a variety of mind-bending puzzles to solve. For a game intended to feel like a new AAA title, it offered something special rather than derivative, with a memorable protagonist and story.

2. Pokémon: Let’s Go, Pikachu!

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This was like nostalgia come alive. Yes, it was re-exploring Pokémon Yellow yet again, but the new game features and bright, lively graphics made it feel more like a physical manifestation of youthful imaginings of what a Pokémon game was. It was a game aimed squarely at lapsed fans like me, and it delivered an experience that reengaged my interest in the franchise.

3. Batman: The Enemy Within

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This might be my favorite Batman story of all time. It is my favorite Joker story of all time. Even otherwise tired relationships, like that between Bruce and Alfred, feel fresh when you’re the one personally making decisions that impact those relationships. I felt like I had choice throughout the narrative, and I also knew that my choices would often bring painful, unintended consequences. I just had to do what I thought was best, even though an ideal outcome was almost never achievable in the end.

4. Untitled Goose Game

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I didn’t even make it through the opening titles before I fully embraced the persona of a dickish goose. This was a fun sandbox, and I delighted in experimentation and in solving the various challenges. Beautiful, distinctive artwork and pleasant sound and music design were soothing even as I sowed chaos.

5. Desert Child

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This is an incredibly short game. It might turn some people off because of its brevity. But the art style, music, and racing all come together to deliver a cool, stylistic, unique experience. It proudly wears its sci-fi anime influences on its sleeves. It also delivers the sort of experience that plays to the Switch’s unique strengths; I played most of it in handheld mode while awaiting flights in airports over a short trip.

Review: The Witcher, Season One

I liked Netflix’s version of The Witcher. It’s not perfect. I hope there’s more of it.

I’m not a “fan” of The Witcher, exactly. I liked the first game, but it was a weird game lacking in polish, with a difficult-to-adjust-to combat system that was completely overhauled in later games, and it was bogged down with a misogynistic depiction of women and sex. I was hooked by the complicated morality, the bizarre assortment of characters, and the unique lore. That led me to reading The Last Wish, and I truly loved Sapkowski’s character and setting (even if I didn’t love the writing/translation style). I’ve tried to get into the second Witcher game a couple times, and I really do intend to invest myself in it enough to complete it some day so that I can feel free to move onto the third game. I have Blood of Elves somewhere in the house, waiting to be read. It’s an interesting setting with a unique moral perspective that (unfortunately) all too often fails to treat women with respect; it’s fairly unique in its use of Polish myths and fairy tales and classic fantasy to do something darker and more complex, and yet because of its source material, a lot of it feels familiar. It inhabits a unique ethnic identity instead of a generic European-style setting, but it is still a European-style setting, and I could understand readers or viewers or gamers preferring to look for voices and settings that haven’t been promoted as much. I like the idea of what the Witcher is but I see its flaws and can understand why someone wouldn’t like it. And I come to the series as someone familiar with the source material but not overly so; I won’t get all the references, and I won’t know how every adapted storyline originally appeared, but I’m not taking this all fresh either.

It turns out that I knew more of the story than I was expecting. This first season largely adapts plots from the short story collections of The Last Wish and Sword of Destiny; most of what I hadn’t read had been referenced in what I’d played. When we get to the titular Witcher facing the striga, cursed heir to the throne of Temeria, I realized I was seeing the third depiction of a particular story, a story that had first appeared in The Last Wish and had then been depicted in the opening cinematic for the first game (while becoming a major plot point of that game). Still, every story, whether I knew it or not, was engaging and moody and prone to sudden bursts of graphic violence, so I never lost some degree of suspense.

I’ve said a lot about what I do and don’t know about The Witcher. If you don’t know anything at all about it, all you really need to know is that the protagonist is Geralt, a “Witcher” who has been mutated through magic and trained to fight monsters; he wanders the land, taking on odd monster-hunting jobs for gold, but his mission is complicated by his reluctance to kill anything intelligent and by the villainy of many of the humans seeking to hire him. As much as he cuts through monsters, he also cuts through a great deal of men and bullshit. While he opts to project the image of an aloof killer, he is typically thoughtful, witty, and surprisingly kind. He especially tends to take the side of outsiders like him, though the bigoted human majority doesn’t approve of this. He hates royalty and wizards, but he frequently becomes ensnared in their schemes, finding himself the ally or rival of many of the powerful.

The show captures a great deal of this. Without access to his unique headspace, however, Geralt often comes off as more of a cold-blooded assassin than a warrior-poet. We see glimpses of it, but he is depicted more in the grumpy, near-silent mold of the video-game version of the character, mostly left to say “fuck” or “hm.” That said, Henry Cavill does everything he can with what he is given, and every “fuck” or “hm” has a slightly different meaning and intent, conveyed through tone and body language. It’s really not that bad, either; Geralt has plenty of moral debates with the characters he runs into, often has to make difficult choices between the lesser of two evils, and occasionally encounters or develops a friend.

Geralt’s closest companion is Jaskier, played by Joey Batey. Even if you haven’t watched any of the show by the time you’re reading this, you’ve probably heard some of his catchy tunes by now, or seen someone encourage you to toss a coin to your Witcher. Batey plays Jaskier pitch-perfect (pun intended): smarmy, self-assured, arrogant, charming, promiscuous, and worldly yet somehow naive. He’s the emotional soft-boy counterpart to Geralt’s almost parodic depiction of traditional masculinity. And they become best buds! How sweet is that? Jaskier feels like the most accurate translation from book to game to television (fun fact: he was known to me and many other English speakers as “Dandelion” prior to this because his name is Polish for “Buttercup” and the translator apparently wanted to avoid some of the American associations with that word).

Geralt’s eventual on-again, off-again lover is Yennefer, portrayed by Anya Chalotra. I don’t know Yennefer as much as Geralt, Jaskier, some of the other sorcerers and sorceresses, or even some of the royalty, but I had a general idea of her somewhat toxic relationship with Geralt. I had no idea of what she went through to become a sorceress, however. It took me a while to pick up on, but the story is actually told in three separate timelines, and much of Yennefer’s story takes place farthest in the past, as we see the trials and travails she underwent prior to meeting Geralt. I was most invested in Yennefer’s story by the end. Yet as much time as was spent, it still feels rushed. I never felt that I fully understood her, yet understanding her and her development over the series is critical to a few key moments (including the climax of the season). I would have liked to have even more time with her as a sorceress in training, to see her adapt and improve and struggle and scheme, to see what sort of power she wanted to have and how her decisions brought her closer or further away from that power. We only get glimpses in the end. Most troublesome, the show spends altogether too much time on her transformation from a humpbacked girl to a beautiful woman via a painful magical procedure that starts with a hysterectomy without anesthesia and then a truly horrifying set of enchanted physical changes that put her through agonizing, gruesome pain. The fixation on this woman’s horrific pain to achieve her goals was questionable to me. And while the show has some messaging that the transformation is to appease the royalty sorceresses work with, rather than to correct some “fault,” the show does not escape reinforcement of traditional beauty standards at all costs. (Fascinatingly, it’s paired with moments from the striga fight, and we are left with the impression that her transformation from humpback to beauty is comparable to the striga’s transformation from monster to innocent-yet-feral girl.) Again, more time with Yennefer before that, and more understanding of what she wanted and why, might have made me more accepting of that scene.

As I mentioned, there are three timelines at work. The series jumps between these points. Yennefer’s story is the farthest back in time; Geralt’s story is near the narrative’s present; current events follow the young princess Ciri (Freya Allan) as she flees from the destruction of her kingdom in search of Geralt for protection. I won’t get into the “current” timeline because the whole of the show builds toward it and the significance of Ciri’s story.

All in all, this show pushed my tolerances for graphic depictions of violence, gore, and pain. The fight scenes were often quite brutal. There was weight to these moments, even when the fights themselves were quick. Often, the camera would pan over fallen bodies and severed limbs. Yet the most grotesque gore was typically only shown in flashes; sometimes, a moment of violence would be alluded to but not graphically depicted. I’m not sure that the decisions made ever felt fully consistent, but I appreciated the occasional reprieve.

If you’re looking for a replacement to Game of Thrones, this isn’t it. It’s smaller in scope, focused mostly on four characters (Geralt, Yennefer, Ciri, and Jaskier). There is magic, and there is a feudal society, and there are dragons, and a great war is coming. But it’s typically focused on the smaller moments, as Geralt just tries to make his way through the world. The show is about his beliefs and principles, how they evolve and how they stay the same, how they compete or coincide with the beliefs and principles of others. I’m glad for that. I’m glad for the personal, narrowed focus. I never really got into A Song of Ice and Fire or its television adaptation for a number of reasons, but I think the most useful distinction here is that it was a sprawling alternate historical fiction epic disguised as a fantasy series, and The Witcher is about this one character operating in a strange, alien world. You might disagree with my depiction of Game of Thrones; I only read the first couple of books. But I hope you can at least see the distinction I’m trying to draw here.

I liked the show. I didn’t think it was perfect. I don’t think the source material is perfect. I’ll keep watching if they keep making this show. I might get around to reading the Witcher saga. I might finally get into the rest of the games. But if you don’t like it, I understand. It’s not for everyone.