Why not release Detective Pikachu on Switch?

So, Detective Pikachu comes to theaters in a month. And Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney Trilogy was just released for the Nintendo Switch. Yet there seem to be no plans to release any version of the Detective Pikachu game on Nintendo Switch.

The timing seems right, but nothing seems to be happening. Then again, it surprises me how quickly the time between some game announcements and releases has been for the Switch. Maybe Nintendo will still capitalize on the film release with a port, remake, or sequel of the game for the Switch.

I never played Detective Pikachu. But there’s a decent chance I would if it came to the Switch.

Either way, though the movie looks absurd, I imagine that it will be one my wife and I see in theaters. She’s really looking forward to it!

(P.S. Sam, I know that Yu-Gi-Oh! will always be the TCG closest to your heart, but these early-screening-exclusive booster packs for Detective Pikachu might just get you even more amped up for the movie!)

Let’s Keep Going, Pikachu!

I’m still playing Pokémon: Let’s Go, Pikachu! I’ve caught the Legendary Pokémon and beat the Elite Four and all the gym leaders again. I came across Pokémon trainer Green in Cerulean Cave and bested her in battle for Mega Stones that would enable an ultimate evolution for Mewtwo. I still have a Pokédex to complete, and I still haven’t beaten that darned Pikachu Master Trainer.

There’s a lot of endgame content here, beyond merely grinding Pokémon levels and catching every last one (though there’s certainly some of that now too). I’ve been surprised by all the new elements the game has continued to introduce since beating the Elite Four for the first time. And every time I think I’ve encountered every quest or unlocked every feature, I discover something new. It’s still fun!

One of the wildest features I learned about through the Pokémon website is that, upon beating six Master Trainers, you can challenge Red. And there’s an extra title for you if you can beat all of the Master Trainers. Now, I don’t know if I’ll have the tenacity to ever achieve that. And if I do, it’ll probably be with plenty of other games between then and now. Still, it’s an intriguing, if elusive, goal.

This is silly to say, because it’s a casual game that exploits a generation’s nostalgia for a children’s RPG, but this game has helped me better develop perseverance and persistence. It’s rare that I’m just okay with failure in a game. But here, I can lose a battle and still want to push on. I don’t simply reload from an earlier save. I never do that in this game. Because there’s always another opportunity, if I work hard enough for it. I learn from my mistakes; I don’t erase them.

The game’s given me some fresh perspective on where my life’s at and what I’m wanting to aim toward. It’s no longer about reaching a particular career goal, but it’s still important to have goals. I certainly have learned that those goals can and will change, often drastically, but if you don’t keep goals in mind, even if small ones aimed at how to be more engaged with a hobby or to more actively pursue a creative passion or to more consistently and significantly become involved in one’s community, then you’re just idling in place. Life’s a long and meandering path with many forks, but the point is not to reach the end of the trail; it’s to keep having a direction to walk toward.

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Review: The Highwaymen

I like gangster films, 1930’s period pieces, and buddy cop movies, so I was bound to love Netflix’s The Highwaymen, starring Kevin Costner and Woody Harrelson as two retired Texas Rangers brought back for one final job in the hunt for Bonnie and Clyde. It’s a western set in the era of Ford cars and Tommy guns. It’s a cool premise with a solid execution.

I was actually startled by how desolate Harrelson was in this film. The trailer made Harrelson’s Maney Gault seem like a sort of whimsical partner to Costner, but he plays a truly broken, haunted man, someone with a history of alcoholism to escape the memories of self-inflicted traumas, someone who feels worthless to everyone, including his own family. He clings with almost dog-like loyalty to his former superior, desperate to do something right in his final days, even if he’s not sure he can live with the consequences of their ultimate martial task. In contrast, Costner’s former Ranger Captain Frank Hamer has found a loving wife and comfortable life, marrying into wealth. Yet while he is the more stoic of the two cowboy enforcers, Hamer is very obviously suppressing his own guilt and pain.

(By the way, does it seem like there are more and more movies about older, more vulnerable men confronting–or running from–their violent legacies? Logan and The Last Jedi certainly show the trend’s alive in recent pop blockbuster films, but they seem to be everywhere, and action movies and westerns are no exception. I found a 2013 essay musing on the old-man-action-hero subgenre, but I’d say that it’s continued to evolve, with more of an emphasis on the failing powers of an older generation, rather than simply the stories of older tough guys who can still take and throw a punch better than any of the younger whippersnappers.)

Writer John Fusco and director John Lee Hancock assembled a fantastic story here. I loved that the focus was almost entirely on the law enforcement pursuit, and the depiction of Bonnie and Clyde is largely via case files, news reports, and public adoration of the distorted, larger-than-life image that the couple held. While there are snippets of the criminal duo in tense scenes of highway murders, the most we see of a Parker or a Barrow is in one mesmerizing sequence shared between Hamer and Clyde’s mechanic father (played by William Sadler). That said, the film presents a curious mingling of fact and fiction that offers itself more as a thoughtful and melancholy story about two men who have lived on past their fading into myth, rather than as a literal representation of the principals involved.

While there is a lot of dramatic embellishment, the portrayal of “Ma” Ferguson was especially hard to reconcile with reality, despite the occasional allusions to corruption allegations in the film. Still, Kathy Bates is a delight as the Governor of Texas in every scene in which she appears.

Just a couple more notes, as usual focusing on what’s obvious to me (which of course means neglecting many of the creative and practical elements of the film that made it enjoyable to me as a whole). While this is a movie that often allows scenes to rest on ambient sound, the high-energy fiddling score by Thomas Newman feels perfect. Additionally, I enjoyed John Schwartzman’s cinematography; the scenery is at turns achingly beautiful and hauntingly desolate, as the lawmen pursue the outlaw lovers over sizzling roadways and through dust fields, lying in wait in Dallas exurb slums and along pine-forested Louisiana back country.

While this film isn’t covering revolutionary new ground, it tells a solid cops-and-robbers story that finds time to reflect on legacy and reputation. It’s worth your time.

Review: Amores Perros

Several months back, another blogger recommended the film Amores Perros to me. A few weeks back, I got around to watching it. It was compelling, gritty, disturbing, and layered. Finally, I’m getting around to writing up some of my impressions.

Amores Perros (2000) is a Mexican crime drama written by Guillermo Arriaga and directed by Alejandro González Iñárritu. I didn’t recognize the name, but I really should have. Most critically for me, he directed The Revenant, which was a tremendously raw and powerful movie and contained perhaps my favorite performance by Leonardo DiCaprio. Looking over Iñárritu’s directorial filmography is a laundry list of films I’ve, well, been meaning to get around to seeing…movies like 21 GramsBabel, and Birdman. (And yet I’m spending my free time re-watching Bond films…)

While Iñárritu’s other movies must currently remain on my ever-growing pile of Things to Watch, I’m glad that I’ve finally viewed Amores Perros. The film fascinatingly weaves together three separate stories: an aimless young man gets involved in the dog-fighting scene in an attempt to earn enough money to run away with his abusive brother’s wife; a successful middle-aged man leaves his family for an attractive model who is subsequently in a crash that leaves her severely injured; and an ex-con, vagabond, former guerrilla and current assassin grows disillusioned with his contract killing. The crash that injures the model is a central event connecting all the stories, but characters and events overlap between all three. Time roughly moves forward between each story, but even here there is overlap between the partitions. The title makes further connective tissue apparent: dogs factor into all the stories in key ways, and all the stories involve complicated relationships and broken loves.

Each of the stories is rather bleak, and turning points where one might find hope often dead-end or switch back to further tragedy. To say that the film is morally ambiguous does not feel quite right. Perhaps more accurately, Amores Perros showcases how people can make bad choices out of a good motivation, or how people who have lived lives of evil can rationalize their decisions–or can finally seek some form of redemption. “Redemption” is more of a spiritual concept, finding the desire to do better, or to find some contentment in life; we don’t really get any happy reunions or neat resolutions.

Amores Perros also offers a grim, hard-edged look at poverty, inequality, and crime in Mexico City. The setting feels real and authentic. Suffering and despair are saturated into everything within frame.

It was a hard watch at times, but I am grateful for the viewing experience. If you haven’t seen it, I’d certainly recommend it. Amores Perros is currently available for free, with limited advertising interruptions, on Vudu.

A Growing Film Roster on Netflix

Just a quick thought, mostly because I’ve posted before about how Netflix has a small but growing number of Filipino films. Last time I brought this up at the start of February, less than two months ago, there were a total of seven options in the “Filipino Movies & TV” category. There are now literally dozens of options (obviously ranging widely in quality). This seems to reflect a generally varied offering of international films in general.

The streaming services’ limited licensing of films and constant renegotiation of titles means an ever-changing lineup, not just of new releases but of the back catalog of available films. That back catalog often matters more to me, and I’m glad to see a generally greater availability of foreign film options on the North American Netflix site.

While it’s easy enough to find charts of Netflix’s profitability and subscriber base, or to see month-to-month “news” about what’s changing in Netflix’s availability or what Netflix and other streaming services are developing in-house, I don’t know of a source that clearly shows long-term changes in available films and television, especially broken down by, say, genre, year of release, and national origin. However, it’s not like I’ve looked very hard into the issue! If you know of such a source, please let me know. I’d be very interested to see if the narrow window of changes I’m observing more broadly reflects long-term changes in the availability of international films, or if this is just a tiny, anomalous blip.

Review: Love, Death & Robots

I did not like Love, Death & Robots, but I’m glad that it exists. It’s incredibly genre stuff: scif-fi, horror, and fantasy. Some of the stories do interesting things and take risks. A lot of the stories seem to delight in the chance to be included in an “NSFW anthology,” leaning into gore, grotesque violence, graphic sex, and sometimes a combination of the three. Most of the stories are dark and despairing and macabre. Most were vulgar and crude and unpleasant. A few were not these things, and seem to have been included because of their ideas or their humor or their style rather than sheer edginess alone, and I liked these few best.

My favorite thing about the anthology as a whole was that each short film in the anthology was so different. Some were mostly live action, some were puppetry and/or stop-motion (or else convincing CG-based facsimiles), some were CGI animation (with some of the films within that category appearing hyper-realistic), some were apparently traditional animation, and one was a seemingly live-action film filtered with an over-saturated and cartoonish look and punctuated by text sound effects (this last one was the most visually arresting, but the story was a fairly bland time loop narrative with violence and hyper-sexuality). The drastic shifts between styles kept each new film fresh and distinct.

With 18 episodes averaging about 10 minutes each, it’s incredibly easy to binge the roughly 3-hour affair (even though the episodes range in length, they’re all still rather short). I know that I did. At some point, though, it became about finishing, wanting to put the show behind me. The amount of bad outnumbered the good.

I had my favorites. “Three Robots” follows, well, three robots who are touring a post-apocalyptic city; it’s funny and cute. “Suits” feels a bit like StarCraft fan fiction in the best possible way–it’s about farmers living normal lives except for the mech suits they must use to fight off Zerg-like aliens. “When the Yogurt Took Over” is just plain silly, and it’s one of the rare nonviolent stories in the bunch, serving as sort of a ’50s B-movie deconstruction with charming animation and a Vincent Price sound-alike narrator. “Lucky 13” feels like something set in the Halo ‘verse, but it’s essentially the story of a pilot’s bond with her craft, and it’s rather sweet. “Zima Blue” is an interesting sci-fi art story with a fun twist. And “Ice Age” is a whimsical story about a young couple who discover the old fridge in their new apartment contains its own lost civilization.

References and homages to other stories abound. In addition to the references I noted above, some of the stories felt like they were fan fics for Mass EffectDoom, a variety of werewolf stories of all things, ’80s toy-tie-in cartoons, and Pokémon (but with considerably more sex, violence, and gore, and set in a hard dystopian-cyberpunk setting). Fan fiction initially feels like the right term; they’re not officially licensed to play in those worlds, but the stories seem to work best when contemplating the universes and ideas they’re riffing off. To be fair, much of the source material for these short films outright predates the sources I’m pointing to; my lack of familiarity with most of the original short stories leaves me ill-equipped to say how much is contained in the originals and how much actually could be drawing from later sources. Sci-fi and fantasy are rather self-referential genres, after all, and the round of properties I’ve named are of course referencing dozens of other stories in turn. So to be more accurate: the anthology is a send-up of genre pulp of the past few decades. There are very few ideas that feel truly original or fresh–or even complete, without the context of the genres that they reside within.

While I won’t break down all the stories, I do have to point out that many of the shorts would have simply been easier to get through if they could have shown some restraint, focusing more on telling a consistent and notable story rather than focusing on maiming and killing. Just for example, consider “Sucker of Souls” and “Good Hunting.”

“Sucker of Souls” was incredibly gory and violent, which was a turn-off for me, but it felt a lot like a mature spin on Jonny Quest or something similar, spliced with a Castlevania-esque Dracula story, and it was just plain funny even amid the bloodshed; still, that relentless violence and blood splatter, and the ultimately futile ending, makes it hard to recommend as a comedy or parody. “Good Hunting” is The Witcher meets wuxia meets steampunk, but the grotesque violence against women and moral blackness of the setting (and a sociopathic, morbidly obese man’s tiny flopping dick) are hard marks against it for me; the setting was interesting but the story it wanted to tell was not what I wanted to see. I cannot overemphasize how much graphic violence there is in this collection–and how much of that violence is directed toward women.

Like with Black Mirror, I can appreciate the good episodes but don’t like having to wade through so much bad to get to the good. Like with Black Mirror, I feel like Love, Death & Robots is presented as an edgy, genre-pushing, radical reinvention of speculative fiction, but in the end they both feel like mere edgelord recycling of what’s come before.

That said, I hope that Love, Death & Robots can lead to more genre anthologies and more experimentation, on Netflix and other platforms.

Migraine Day

I had a truly fantastic day out with my wife yesterday. We drove and walked around Indy, hitting up different bakeries to try free samples as part of the Macaron Day event. It felt like a true kick-off to spring, when we finally go out and try different things.

Today came with a vengeance, however. I woke with a headache that morphed into an ever-worsening migraine, and I was more or less incapacitated for much of the day. Finally, with a second Imitrex, my headache’s gradually subsiding. But this won’t be the day of writing and reading I’d hoped it would be. So much for getting to those additional blog posts (or the other things I’d planned to work on today).

But I truly can’t complain! It was a weekend, and a day I didn’t have plans with anyone, so the migraine didn’t disrupt all that much. And I used to get migraines at least monthly…years ago, even more frequently than that. And of course, plenty of people out there deal with even worse migraines with far greater frequency.

Still, it’s a minor irritant to have a day blown like this, and without me even making a conscious decision to, say, sit on the couch with a bag of chips in one hand and a Switch controller in the other.