I haven’t covered the entirety of Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan novels — in fact, I only wrote about the third — and I kind of expected to leave it at that, as while each novel is remarkable, the first three are rather remarkable in the same way: they’re all about the push-and-pull between two friends growing up together in Naples and their power dynamics and their multi-faceted journeys through life.
Consequently, I didn’t expect the final novel in the series — THE STORY OF THE LOST CHILD — to stray much from the path, and I certainly didn’t expect to be penning this, but here we are.
THE STORY OF THE LOST CHILD escalates matters far more than the prior novels. Time passes rapidly. Lenù and Lila age significantly. The undercurrent of the mafia bubbles up to the surface. Technology becomes foregrounded. Families are ripped asunder. Stagnation sets in for some, while others find solace in wildness.
This is a true epic of lives lived, and as always Ferrante deftly handles it bluntly, but also artfully. Ferrante’s prose is so succinct and exacting; she is so dialed into the inner voice of Lenù that you feel like you’re inhabiting her as the scales fall from her eyes.
While I feel that Ferrante could have drawn all of this out further, going more in-depth about Lenù and Lila as they navigate their older years, this seems like a fittingly spry end to their tale. It’s satisfying, poignant, melancholy, and often even angry. In other words, a perfect encapsulation of the Neapolitan novels.
(iOS/PC/PS4/PS5/Switch/Xbox) I previously castigated games that want to be films and, by the standards I set in that write-up, SOUTH OF THE CIRCLE hits every note. Sure, you can navigate your character around, explore a bit from here and there, choose an emotional response to someone’s remark, but it’s first-and-foremost a linear experience to tell a single story, to imbue a specific sort of emotional hurt.
However, I did note that — if done correctly — those grievances could be forgiven, and SOUTH OF THE CIRCLE is one of those works.
SOUTH OF THE CIRCLE opens with a pilot (Floyd) and a British climatologist (Peter) in the cockpit of a plane that’s crashed in the middle of nowhere Antartica. Floyd is immobile, as one of his legs were crushed in the crash. Peter sets out to find help at one of the few neighboring research stations, following a pulsing beacon that pierces through the snow. As he goes from station to station, he intermittently recalls the events that brought him here: his initial struggles with his research, in finding a like-minded fellow scientist who helps inspire him with his work that is meant to help Britain which is in the midst of the Cold War, in falling in love with said fellow scientist, then faced with the dilemma that the school overseeing his research doesn’t want to give the fellow scientists co-credit for the research because she’s a woman.
Notably, said partner is not onboard the crashed plane.
While SOUTH OF THE CIRCLE dabbles with thriller and espionage elements — Peter’s higher-ups are constantly fretting about the Soviet menace — it’s first and foremost about two people bonding over their scientific curiosity, how they inspire each other, how they trust each other, and how institutions can cause someone to betray a loved one.
It’s an extremely potent and effective tale, bolstered by the sparse but simplistically dazzling presentation. While the game consists of flat colors and simple shapes, it all comes together in a brilliantly evocative way. It’s a series of gorgeously austere set pieces that alone make it worth playing.
As previously noted, the game does feature some emotion-based interactivity. Occasionally, when Peter has to contribute to a conversation, you get an ‘emotion prompt’ that allegedly can affect how the game progresses. (I’ll note that they do often mirror the beacon that is clearly visible in the opening of the game.)
As I’ve only played it once, I can’t attest to the efficacy of that, but I do have a hard time imagining that the game significantly plays out much differently in the end, regardless of your emotional choices and that’s fine by me! It is telling the story it wants to tell. As with most stories, it’s not about the conclusion, but the journey.
(PC/PS5/Switch/Xbox) Developer Don’t Nod are mostly known for creating decision-centric, narrative-forward works such as their LIFE IS STRANGE series, so it’s not surprising that their latest game — HARMONY: THE FALL OF REVERIE (HARMONY from here on out) — takes narrative branching and decisions even further.
However, unlike any of their prior games, this is a visual novel. You aren’t navigating a character through 3D environments. You aren’t pressing ‘X to interact’. You talk to a number of characters who inhabit the town of Atina on a slightly-not-too-distant-future cyberpunk Earth trying to overthrow an exploitative and immoral corporation, while also juggling the needs of almost-gods (called ‘Aspirations’) — the likes of which go by the names of Chaos, Bliss, Power, Glory, etc. — who live in Reverie which is another realm altogether and have helped guide humanity over the ages.
So, basically cyberpunk mythology. If you’re into that, you’re into it. However, don’t go into this game thinking “Oh, it’s Don’t Nod! More teen angst and tears!” because you will be greatly disappointed. (Or you may be elated; I don’t know your taste.)
I’ll note that, if you think this is a thematic departure for Don’t Nod, it is not. Their first game was REMEMBER ME, a 3D action/adventure cyberpunk thriller that had a number of inventive techniques and a very striking design. Sadly it bombed, however the poor sales caused them to course correct into smaller, more intimate — and less-expensive to produce — games like LIFE IS STRANGE.
To backtrack a bit: you play as Polly, the daughter of Ursula — an impetuous free-spirited poet — who has disappeared, and Polly is back to help search for her, despite the fact that there’s a lot of bad blood and estrangement between Polly and her mother. Polly then becomes embroiled in both the scheming of the Aspirations as well as the revolutionaries in Atina, while still trying to maintain some sense of herself.
It sounds dense and complicated but, as noted above, it’s boilerplate cyberpunk mythos. However, it is very pretty boilerplate cyberpunk mythos! The background scenery is immaculately imbued with details but also really sets the disparate tone of the two realms, and it’s colorful! So much sun and surf and what I would call cozy urban landscapes. (You may disagree.)
I’d also like to note that, while the character designs aren’t as bonkers as say, PARADISE KILLER, they are sharp, and I really appreciated some of the more unconventional static postures, such as Polly consistently tugging at her own shoulder as a sign of apprehension, or the exuberance of Bliss’ gestures.
I’d be remiss to neglect the musical contribution of Don’t Nod staple Lena Raine, whose indelible work on LIFE IS STRANGE still rings through my head. It’s an aural treasure.
However, a visual novel is only as good as the story it tells, and while HARMONY spends a lot of time place setting, it pays off in the fourth act. (Yes, the game does explicitly break itself down into acts and chapters, just in case you weren’t absolutely aware that it is a visual novel.) The fourth act leans hard on a lot of Don’t Nod tropes — don’t worry, I won’t detail them but, if you’re familiar with their games, you’ll know them when you read them — but also serves as a humanist breather for the game. While it takes a while to get there, that’s when the game really comes into focus, narratively and interactively.
Yes, the interactivity. This is the real marvel of HARMONY. Don’t Nod takes dialogue trees to the next level here, swapping what’s usually just a ‘Select a Response’ prompt to a full-fledged actual dialogue tree that looks like a skill tree you need to continuously manage in a FINAL FANTASY game.
I’ve only played through the game once, although I will eventually make my way back as I don’t care for the impact of some of my initial decisions. (I’ll note: while the game does provide text hints as to the repercussions of your choices, they can often either be misconstrued or downright misleading.) It’s an extremely inventive implementation, but also feels like something a programmer definitely enacted because it’s basically just one big flowchart. I’m not going to complain about it though, as it’s a breath of fresh air.
One quibble: the text size? Way too fucking small. This is a complaint I’ve had since HD gaming was embraced, and it’s only become more of an issue: too many developers design these games on dev stations inches from their face, as opposed to playing on a TV several feet away.
I understand designers who get frustrated when variable font sizes are incongruent with their finely planned layouts — I remember the websites of the late 90s — but seriously. I know I’m getting old, but allow folks to adjust the font size, as well as subtitle drop shadow intensity. I don’t want to have to squint or lean towards the screen to read some superficial lore that may or may not aid me in my journey.
More and more game developers seem to be aware of this, but apparently not Don’t Nod, which seems strange (pun intended), and — for myself — resulted in an often frustrating experience given that this is a visual novel and text is paramount.
Last but not least, I’d like to underscore how refreshing it is to see a combative mother/daughter relationship in a game, one that isn’t fully explained but one that the player intuits. (Perhaps if I’d chosen a different branch here and there, I would know more, but I don’t!) Families are complicated, and HARMONY hones in on that in ways that some might find unlikeable but I simply find to be part of trying to live one’s life the way one wants to. Is that selfish? Perhaps. Whether you feel it is or not depends on which branch you choose.
(PC/PS4/PS5/Switch/Xbox) There’s a thin line between cozy, fun puzzle games and cozy, frustrating puzzle games. Some video games look cute, swear that they’re a breezy affair, but then a few hours in you’re searching for walkthroughs and then shouting out to no one: “How the hell was I supposed to know to do that?!”
CARTO is from Taiwan developers Sunhead Games, and the central conceit is basically: “What if we had a Zelda game with no combat, and you could move and rotate the tiles that make up world maps?”
It’s a fantastic idea that they endless exploit, and it has more than a few other facets going for it: the art design is cartoonishly spectacular; it has a great score that I have accidentally fallen asleep to more than once; and the writing is an appropriate amount of whimsy and melancholy for all ages.
You play as Carto, a young girl who gets lost during a storm and is thrust onto islands where, when someone comes of age, they are forced to leave their family behind. Carto helps heal a lot of these people as she pushes forward to be reunited with her grandmother.
Like I said: whimsical, but also melancholy.
However, some of the puzzle design felt lacking to me. I rarely try to lean on walkthroughs and while I love logic and lateral thinking puzzles, I found some of the puzzles simply maddening and, when I found out the solution, I knew I would have never have solved them on my own.
(It doesn’t help that every fucking site that features walkthroughs now is just an endless array of modals, pop-ups, auto-refreshing and ads.)
That said, I do not regret my time with it, or my cheating. If you use walkthroughs when you realize you need them, it’s a very cozy and very cute experience. At first blush, you might think that it’s an adorable mobile game ported to consoles, but no — it’s far more substantive than that.
(PC/PS4/PS5/Xbox) Modern video game creators love space, especially abandoned space stations. Take TACOMA (which I recently wrote about). If you want a deeper dive? Sierra’s adventure game SPACE QUEST, which has five-and-counting sequels. SYSTEM SHOCK of course. PREY, the one specifically developed by Arkane (because I never played the predecessor).
Why is that? I think part of the reason is that you can get away with more rigid geometry with space games — organic matters require more complexity — and space outposts and vehicles are very specifically angular. Also, you rarely have to render other humanoids. Overall, the development experience for such games can be perceived as less-taxing in financial and technical ways.
That said: I’m not complaining. I love a good haunted space station tale or game. It’s perfect for feeling isolated but also slightly in touch with humanity, as well as imbuing the awe of the cosmos on you. Consequently, I was surprised to see that — via my PS+ Extra plan — I could play the Dutch game DELIVER US THE MOON.
I’ll admit, I partially wanted to play it because that is one amazing title. It unconventionally tells you everything without telling you anything.
DELIVER US THE MOON is a high-concept sci-fi justified rant against the short-sightedness of our use of Earth’s resources. In the near future, all energy resources have been depleted, but they discover a new one on the Moon, Helium-3, which they can then beam down to Earth.
Of course, it took them a good decade to build the tallest man-made structure ever, but they did and, for a while, all was good. Then it all goes terribly wrong and the Helium-3 station goes dark, effectively causing the same to happen on Earth.
After a number of years, a shuttle is cobbled together so they can send a scientist up to investigate and get the station back up and running. Matters escalate.
While DELIVER US THE MOON might look like an exploration simulator or — to use what far too many consider a pejorative — a walking simulator, it’s far more like a less-intense PORTAL. A lot of puzzles — sadly, many of them feel rather familiar to me — and even a few first-person platforming bits. They also mix in some timed action events, which are not my favorite things, as well as moment that evokes Alfonso Caruso’s GRAVITY.
I’ll note that TACOMA was released after DELIVER US THE MOON, but it’s hard to ignore the similarities: both feature an abandoned space station, both are hardly action-centric, both are first-person, and both tell their narrative mostly through found spectral, abstract holographic records. In my opinion, TACOMA pulls it off better; it has puzzles, but no platforming, no time-limited scenarios, no quick-time events, and the holographic storytelling is far more interactive and inventive. (See my write-up for more.)
Yes, both games set out to do different things, but they dovetail quite well together. If you like one, you’ll probably enjoy the other and vice versa. Either way, if you are a sucker for slightly-creepy jaunts in the isolation of space, it’s worth your time, although you might find one more frustrating than the other.
(I’ll note: I’m still working my way through a lot of Harley works, so I may get a few facts or matters wrong. Please bear with me — there’s only so much time in the day!)
A CALL TO ARMS is the fourth collection of Amanda Conner and spouse Jimmy Palmiotti’s run on the second HARLEY QUINN monthly series, the first of which I previously posted about. Have I read the second or third volumes? No, because they weren’t available at the comic book store after I attended Chicago’s Pride parade and wanted to treat myself. Also: it doesn’t really matter because, well, comics are fluid like that.
In this collection, Harley is mostly in charge of a bunch of other variant Harleys, all of which have very uninspired names. (Harvey Quinn, for example.) However, it is very endearing and the final reveal for a cluster of her members is quite something.
One caveat: Conner is no longer on pencil duty and it suffers for that, because while Conner does have a certain flair for cheesecake, not every panel of hers was reveling in T&A, as opposed to some of the art in this collection. I’ll note: I have nothing against cheesecake or pin-up works or anything like that! However, when every fucking panel is constructed around Harley/Ivy/Catwoman taking on absurd contortions to revel in a perky breast or bountiful ass, it does a disservice to the characters and story. It’s not like that with every artist in the collection, but it is very overt at times.
Way back in college, many years ago, I was taking a post-graduate-level film theory course. My undergrad film history teacher suggested it for me and got me in. One day, the topic of the male gaze came up. Being a young punk who knew very little of the world or gender studies — again, at this point I’m a very young, dumb undergrad — I bristled against that idea.
After the class let out, one of the older classmates approached me. She said to me — not judgmentally or with malice — “The male gaze absolutely exists.” We discussed it a bit, but I mostly held my ground because at that time I was a self-righteous idiot.
I think about that exchange a lot, because obviously: I was absolutely and totally wrong, and I wish I could go back and correct how I dealt with those exchanges. It does exist, and it certainly exists in this work which is a shame because most of the artwork in the Harley Quinn comic collections I’ve read have not been like that. But, hey, I guess that’s part of the baggage that comes with reading comics.
Apologies for the digression! Apart from that, it’s a fine and funny and intriguing take on the characters that does a great job creating a broader ensemble. As usual with Conner and Palmiotti’s work, it’s fast, energetic, and hilarious, and well-worth your time.
Julia Wertz is an amazing indie cartoonist and she embraces all that entails. (I recently wrote about her prior major work TENEMENTS, TOWERS & TRASH, which I hauled to NYC with me on my last trip to that amazing shit-smelling, rodent-infested, culturally vibrant city.) She overshares, imparting gross parts of one’s life that’s rarely described elsewhere, but is also very earnest and sincere and honest and heartfelt, even if that means showcasing her troubled mental underbelly.
The rawness of indie comics is something that simply can’t be recreated in other mediums, partially because of the scribbles and sketching and personal lettering, but just … there’s an intimacy when you read a comic or graphic novel. You push it up to your face, almost like you’re hugging it. It’s not like a film, which is projected quite a ways away from you. It’s not like a novel, where scrutinizing the font will not bring any sort of further elucidation, whereas with a comic or illustrative work, drawing it closer to your eyes may bring everything into focus.
Wertz has been through a lot — self-admittedly by her own hand — and she’s put so much of herself out there, and it’s so artfully done.
(I’ll note that I pre-ordered this book some time ago, forgot that I pre-ordered it, then ordered it again and she notified me asking: “Are you sure you want another copy?” How many other creatives would do that?)
So yeah, I’ll always be in her corner.
IMPOSSIBLE PEOPLE — the full title is IMPOSSIBLE PEOPLE: A COMPLETELY AVERAGE RECOVERY STORY — is quite the epic as it’s over 300 pages long and spans quite a bit of time and change. It still contains Wertz’s immaculate architectural reproductions, but also retains her expressive cartoon roots. When I was reading it, I’d gawk at the street in one panel, then laugh at the exaggerated simplicity of her comic self throwing her arms up in the air. It’s a perfectly calibrated work.
On a side note, with IMPOSSIBLE PEOPLE, Wertz does an incredible job of underscoring the importance of human interaction and communication when you’re struggling. As she’s a very witty, sardonic person, it’s all handled with both the levity and gravitas it deserves, while also not shying away from how difficult that can be. Obviously I haven’t lived Wertz’s life but, when dealing with my own problems, I found that the solutions that helped her get sober mirrored my attempts to deal with my mental issues.
In other words: do not be afraid to reach out to people. Do not be so proud or scared. I know that’s easier said than done — I’ve been there. However, so many folks are either hurting or hiding their hurt or have made a sort of temporary peace with it, or they simply suffer with it. When they hear that you are in need, most will lend an ear or shoulder or both, or they may even ask for your ear or shoulder. Yes, it’s difficult. Yes, you’re making yourself vulnerable. In the long run, it’s worth it. You will find folks you can rely on; well-wishing folks who will have your back and folks you can earnestly and honestly talk to without (mostly) feeling judged. You are not alone, but you do have to make the effort to not be alone. You have to do the work.
You can pick up a copy of IMPOSSIBLE PEOPLE via Bookshop:
Given that I’m referencing UNDER THE PINK instead of LITTLE EARTHQUAKES, that definitely sets a specific range of time as to when I was introduced to Tori. (Although I do remember vividly recall seeing the ‘Crucify’ video on MTV.)
So, first, the preamble: my best friend and I were infatuated with Tori Amos in our youth, to the point where we were endlessly watching bootleg live VHS recordings.
It just so happened Tori had booked an appearance for her UNDER THE PINK tour at what was essentially a high school theater in Burlington, Vermont, my nighttime home, and my English teacher? Inexplicably, he was working security and he knew I was a fan — I’ll note he was one of the best teachers ever as he was the kind of teacher that intuited what you were into and he’d press all of the works youreally needed to read to you — and he said: “I can get you backstage if you want!”
Obviously, I was elated and very excited.
“There are too many stars and not enough sky…”
We attended the show and loved the music and the performance, but were soured by the crowd patter, which were refrains of prior shows we’d already watched via our bootleg tapes. Consequently, we opted not to go backstage, which might have been a mistake — she is an exacting performer who knows what her audience wants — but we were so disheartened to see the routine of touring and dealing with fans that we didn’t want to put her through more of it.
My teacher did ask me later as to why we didn’t show up and I explained it through a lot of vagaries and white lies. I certainly appreciated his effort but simply: I didn’t want to deal with artifice and I spoke around that.
I will note: I still have the t-shirt from that tour. I rarely wore it, as it’s a white t-shirt and I was a gothling, but I hope I’ll never have to find another home for it.
Nonetheless: UNDER THE PINK is one hell of an album, from start to finish. There’s not a bad song in the bunch; it’s all carefully calibrated emotional catharsis. There are more electronics and strings swelling here and there than with LITTLE EARTHQUAKES — she certainly has a far larger budget and it definitely does not consist of the stripped-down piano barebones of LITTLE EARTHQUAKES — but it’s always in service to the work, as opposed to simply being ornamental.
Tori is not subtle; so many of her songs are overtly about abuse and trauma and coping and religion, but all of that was catnip to troubled teens like myself, and still soothes to this day.
There is a newly remastered version of UNDER THE PINK which, honestly, I think is a bit too clean, but it’s still a great version. Highlights include: ‘God’, ‘Icicle’, and of course ‘Cornflake Girl’ and ‘The Waitress’.
One last note: I do love LITTLE EARTHQUAKES as well as quite a bit of post-UNDER THE PINK work, but UNDER THE PINK resonates the most for me.
“Oh, that’s Adam, John Winchester’s other kid. He’s still trapped in the cage. In Hell. With Lucifer.”
SUPERNATURAL was a paranormal take from Eric Kripke on the mostly forgotten show ROUTE 66. ROUTE 66 was pitched by the very versatile screenwriter/producer Stirling Silliphant (IN THE HEAT OF THE NIGHT, NAKED CITY) as a way to give TV audiences a trip around the U.S.A. (Basically, a semi-fictional travelogue.) Each episode was written around locales across America and focused on two male friends who road trip around and help the folks they meet along the way. One episode even has Peter Lorre, Lon Chaney Jr., and Boris Karloff as themselves!
So, obviously, SUPERNATURAL features the Winchester brothers, driving across the country — although they rarely shot on location — helping folks deal with inexplainable creatures and situations while also encountering a surprising amount of family drama with their father and their dead mother.
“So that’s where we aaaarrre! On a road so faaaarrr! Saving people, hunting things! Family business, back in swing!
SUPERNATURAL was one of those shows that thrived by word-of-mouth. I discovered it through a friend who said: “I know it looks cheesy and it’s on the WB and yes, there’s an episode with a murderous truck, but trust me on this one. It’s worth watching. Here, just borrow my DVD set!”
It was quite engaging for some time but shows wax and wane, and it often takes time for them to refresh.
Sadly, I do not have the patience for 15 seasons of 20+ episodes, but I did make it a point to watch the 200th episode. For one, how often does that happen on a non-CBS network and two, it’s supremely meta.
This episode absolutely and unapologetically acknowledges its fans.
I’ve seen a lot of SUPERNATURAL eps but not even close to all of them. However, my wife singled out this ep and I feel like a better person for having watched it.
This one bit below was something special, because it encapsulates their fandom by recapping the broad beats of the show’s history into a high school musical production. Normally I’m not about fan-service, but fans have done so much for this show and to see it reflected on-screen made me well up. The fact that it’s also a great episode that doesn’t take itself seriously but is still earnest? Icing on the cake.
I admit, most of this episode will initially be lost on you if you are not familiar with the show, but the musical eases you into it, and it’s still a fun time if for no reason other than the closing number.
It’ll just be easier for you to watch the clip below.
Love what you love, and support it however you can.
“A single man-tear falls down his face; he shows emotions without a trace.”
Also, I really, really wanted the WAYWARD SISTERS spin-off to happen. Happy to have seen it as a backdoor pilot, as CW was the last network to air backdoor pilots.
ADDENDUM
I will note that if you decide to pursue this show? Skip the series finale. It is an absolutely unsatisfying mess, although I don’t blame the writers as there were production and casting and contract issues plus, of course, COVID. I came back to watch the entire final season and the finale will leave a bad taste in your mouth.
That said, apart from a slightly rocky first season, the first five are damn entertaining.
Unsurprisingly, I am an original STAR TREK nerd. I even read the Alan Dean Foster-penned novelizations, checked them out from my school library — as well as a fair amount of STAR TREK novels — at a young age. I even subscribed to the STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION magazine when I was a youth. Granted, I fell off halfway through TNG — high school and all — although goddamn, I think my parents can still hear me shouting at the Locutus reveal. (A very formative narrative moment for me!)
PICARD S1 and S2 weren’t what I wanted, but goddamn, Terry Matalas (SyFy’s 12 MONKEYS) is doing his thing in S3 and holy hell it’s amazing. It’s the best of the cerebral aspects of the show and the action of the films.
“What did they do?”
“Uh… they threw a ship at us.”
The digital modeling and camerawork is absolutely astounding. The ships look amazing, and visually all the panning and swooping show all of that work off. And the interface work! Full disclosure: I know someone who worked on the interfaces for the show, but goddamn, it’s gorgeous, and those behind the show know it because it spends 100% of its time lingering over them for their credit sequence.
This season absolutely knows what it’s doing,
While the entire season is essentially a ‘let’s get the band back together!’ swing, Matalas pulls it off. It leans on the history and lore of the series, while still meaningfully utilizing the TNG crew.
I went into PICARD S3 more as a completist — “Oh, well, I watched the first two seasons, so I might as well watch the third” — and found it one hell of a journey.
If you think you need to watch the first two seasons before watching the third? Think again. You can simply skip to the third and not miss anything, even though the first season does have a very sweet scene between Riker and Troy.
I never thought I’d say this, especially after the endless attempts to maintain the Star Trek franchise over the years, but we are living in an actual STAR TREK renaissance. Between this, STRANGE NEW WORLDS, and DISCOVERY (post-season two), there are an amazing number of people that are bringing their unique voices to this fictional future world, and they’re doing so in the spirit of the show so many love. It really is a sight for sore eyes.
