In this edition of Homebrew How-To, I’m going to talk about a staple in many works of fiction and roleplaying games: a fantasy setting, often an entire world or a notable realm of that world.
As mentioned in my prior post, this fantasy world is named Wrald. Now, this world is home to a fantasy setting, complete with magic, mythical beings, the supernatural, and pseudo-Medieval technological development. But we also need to establish what sort of planet it is, and a few details about its cosmological reality. This set of details is akin to what you may be concerned with for a science fiction setting, but they play just as much importance with the everyday elements of the world as weather patterns, political alliances or magical events would.
With that noted, let’s try to imagine what the planet of Wrald would be like. Since this is a fantasy setting, we can see it as being Earth-like in form and function. However, we don’t necessarily need it to absolutely conform to Earth in every detail. Let’s play around with the numbers a little bit.
First off, a bit of quick research (a.k.a. Wikipedia) tells me that the Earth has an equatorial circumference of 24,901.461 miles while its meridional circumference is 24,859.734 miles. Since I’m not going for total accuracy, but rather ease of math, I’ll say that various forces and material strengths of planet Wrald enable it to remain a more or less true sphere while orbiting, and as a result its circumference is 24,000 miles (or 8,000 leagues, to be archaic and in character). So Wrald is slightly smaller than Earth; it’s actually a bit larger than Venus, to be more precise.
Next, I’ll say that Wrald, like Earth, orbits only one star and has only one natural satellite. I’ll even say that Wrald orbits its sun in the same number of seconds as Earth, but it only rotates exactly 360 times instead of 365 (and some change) times. Since I’m not envisioning timepieces accurately measuring time down to minutes much less seconds in this setting, I’m fine with days lasting a bit longer on Wrald than they do on Earth. And there’s no need for a calendar with leap years or any other stuff like that. I’m also going to say that Wrald is the fourth of nine planets orbiting this particular star. (The number of planets will play a role in other elements for Wrald that I’ll work on later.)
Now, as for the surface of the planet Wrald, I’m going to declare that 73% of its surface is covered in water: about 2% more than that of Earth, comparatively. So only 27% of the surface is dry land. Like Earth, Wrald has a broad range of terrains and climates. I could go on about geological and geographical details, but I’m not going to since I’m not going to attempt to make a map just yet.
So with the ratios I’ve mentioned, I envision a world smaller than Earth (yet still bigger than Venus) with a bit more water. Since I’m going with the typical fantasy tropes of humans living with magic and beings such as elves, dwarves, goblins, dragons, giants, and the like, I plan on a broad distribution of terrain so that I don’t have them all crowded onto a couple of massive continents shoved up in a particular hemisphere of the planet.
By now I have the basics for my setting. I know what the overall environment for this world is like, and what expectations I can make going forward. How so?
With knowing the lay of the land (and sea), I can envision where certain groups, cultures, nations, travel patterns, potential conflicts, and all other aspects of a living world can play out.
With knowing some of the more cosmic elements of the world, I know how time can be counted and measured, and how that influences cultural practices and traditions related to them (solstices and equinoxes, seasonal celebrations, etc.).
Some of these things, like the calendar and even the map, I can generate rather quickly with an online utility like those found at donjon.
However, in preparation for additional aspects of my fantasy setting, I need to take stock of who lives there. I’m not envisioning this planet being packed to the gills with peoples like our modern Earth, but I see it having a slightly higher than average population compared to Earth in its medieval period due to the additional presence of mystical creatures and peoples. So, let’s say that overall, this planet has around a billion sentient beings on it (compared to Earth, which apparently didn’t crack a billion until the 1800’s). But what’s the makeup of this world? Since this is meant to be used with games like Dungeons & Dragons or Pathfinder, I have a general idea of what types of folk compose the global population:
So, in the process of crafting entries for this blog, as well as waiting for the release of upcoming products (the One D&D playtest, the Dragonlance adventure, etc.), I have considered expanding the scope of this blog with other things than just me harping on about roleplaying games or product releases, much less getting on a soapbox and opening a Can of Worms or taking a minute for a Minute Musing.
As a gamer and all-around fan of the imaginative in general, I’ve often created various things for roleplaying games or my own fiction writing (which sort-of work hand-in-hand, but not always). A lot of the fundamentals of creating material for roleplaying games meshes well with creating for any fictional work, though there is the mechanical “crunch” of the game that the players will interact with most. Nevertheless, if you’re not wanting to just play in someone else’s sandbox and desire to make a sandbox of your own, then Homebrew How-To is for you.
Note that I won’t be talking about creating your own roleplaying game system, since that’s very time-consuming and gets into game theory, probabilities, and lots of other stuff that’s better suited for an online course. I’m just talking about creating a world for your games or stories (or both) to take place in. As I go through this process, I will make reference to the crafted worlds made through this process. I’m going to focus on two worlds in particular:
The first homebrew world I’ll craft will be for a fantasy setting, akin to the various worlds of D&D, Tolkien’s Middle-Earth, Martin’s Westeros and so on. Using the oh-so-handy-dandy resource that is Wiktionary for name ideas, I scrounge the translations for the entry on “world” and stumble across a version of a Frisian word I like: Wrald.
The second homebrew world I’ll craft will be for a supers setting; that is, it’ll be a variation of Earth as we know it, though modified to suit my narrative needs. Going with a modified form of the naming convention of variant Earths in comics, I’m going to use a letter rather than a number, and call this variant of our home planet Earth-O.
Wrald is made for a fictional setting where Earth is not the direct concern of the narrative (it can exist there, but it’s not the focus). I’m using Wrald for a fantasy setting, though zooming out to a galactic perspective, I could viably address science fiction/fantasy elements in the vein of Star Wars or Farscape. This setting is going to need a lot of newly-built elements that give form and purpose to the place.
Things that I’ll need to establish for Wrald include:
People(s), nations and cultures
Rules of reality: what exists here? How is it different from “normal” reality?
Maps: potentially a world map, but definitely a regional map
Religions and supernatural entities (gods, fiends, extraplanar eldritch horrors, etc.)
Narrative threads: conflicts, relationships, tensions, potential events, historical legacies and the like
For gaming, I also need to consider how they and their characters can engage in the world and take a place in it
Earth-O is made for a fictional setting where Earth very much is a concern of the narrative. This can apply to contemporary day stories, historical stories, or hypothetical futuristic stories akin to Star Trek, or all of them, akin to Doctor Who. This has a lot of stuff pre-made for it, if you will, but it will need to address a lot of “why” questions for anything that defies our standard of reality. This can be zoomed out to address galactic perspectives as well, much in the vein of Men in Black or Guardians of the Galaxy, but the role of Earth will need to be addressed.
Things that I’ll need to establish for Earth-O include:
Changes between our Earth and this one: how is it different?
Revisions: what changes have occurred, and how have they shaped the everyday reality? Are there new continents? New nations?
Narrative threads: what is the role of characters in this world? Are they superheroes? Are they mercenaries? Are they everyday people suddenly thrust into a surreal world of unimaginable horrors? Are they a bunch of stinking teenagers with a mangy dog traveling the countryside in a beat-up old van?
The degree of changes from what is considered “normal” are all up to you. Does your variant Earth use a 13-month calendar or the World Calendar (with its intercalary leap year day and new year day)? Does your other world have rings and three moons and it orbits a blue star? All this is up to you, to meet the creative criteria you need and desire.
The risk of telling any story about a group of clones is that each clone can come across as having an absence of an interesting personality. Sure, each one will have different experiences and stories to tell, and will vary somewhat in outlook—but not only have they been raised and trained to do the same job—be a soldier—but they also have the same genetic template. They’re clones! This was a problem in Attack of the Clones: was there any character development of a Republic clone trooper in that movie? Not much, and what’s worse, they had about as many memorable lines as the Separatist droids whom they fought.
Star Wars: The Clone Wars did a good job of fleshing out the identities of individual clones. Different clones would question each other or themselves, desert their comrades, even mutiny, and—by the premiere of Season 7—the clone Echo, thought to be lost in battle—had, we came to discover, suffered outright body horror and had to heal from his trauma. It was in this long-demanded seventh season that served as a backdoor pilot for the so-called “Bad Batch”—a group of clones whose genetic modifications delivers unique abilities in battle, and whose combined power as Clone Force 99 is stronger than the sum of its clones. The batch is “bad” because they are irregular, but “bad” also applies in the sense of the Eighties—cool and masterful at handling trouble.
These modifications also help explain the differences of the characters and makes them much easier to distinguish among each other than the “haircuts, whiskers, colors, tattoos, and scars” which was usual the five visual ways that individual clone troopers were generally identified in The Clone Wars. Now, we have the loud, barrel-chested clone Wrecker who stands at nearly 2 meters (6 feet, 6 inches) tall and has one blind eye; measured and bespectacled Tech; the sniper Crosshair, with narrow and fine features and an eagle eye; and Hunter, the Rambo-like leader of the group who also is an expert tracker. Echo, who after his rescue has a droid-hand prosthesis similar head cybernetics to Lobot, joins the team in Clone Wars.
Echo
Is there an Echo in here? (Yes, he is on the show!)
One of the challenges faced by any voice actor playing homogeneous characters—twins, the same character from different timelines (or multiverses), or clones, for example—is to allow for the character to sound similar (they should have the same voice, after all), but to also deliver differing motivations, perspectives, knowledge about a situation—all while tugging at the heartstrings of the audience. I must take an early moment to praise the brilliant performance(s!) of Dee Bradley Baker, whose drive, stamina, and commitment not only made the similarities of the clones a background feature, but also brought forward the pathos of each one. Fortunately, he is allowed to expand his range in The Bad Batch (the presumption being that the genetic modifications gives each character even greater differences), and the show has a lot more emotional color as a result.
The Bad Batch is properly a sequel to Revenge of the Sith, and a prequel to Star Wars Rebels. In the show’s movie-length pilot, the Emperor’s Order 66 to kill all Jedi is given, yet the Bad Batch—with one exception—is unaffected by the order. The regular clones, though, go on to execute a Jedi master in the Bad Batch’s presence (the master’s padawan, Caleb Dume, survives into Star Wars Rebels as the renamed Kanan Jarrus). Fans of The Clone Wars will recall that the clones were doomed to follow the programming of the inhibitor chip (which presumably inhibits independent thought).
The Bad Batch’s unique genetics seem to be the key to sparing them the inhibitor’s effects, with the exception of the serpentine-sounding Crosshair. This sets up the general arc of season 1, with Crosshair as a potentially redeemable antagonist. The other main dynamic is the team’s interactions with Omega (voiced by the talented Michelle Ang), an agreeable, clever, curious, and loyal female child clone who falls in with the Bad Batch in their adventures. The reveal of her identity and incredible importance isn’t rushed—and this slow-burn approach is one of many great things that Dave Filoni brings to The Bad Batch, as he does on all projects he helps produce.
Crosshair
It wouldn’t be an animated Star Wars show if there weren’t tie-ins to other shows and movies in the SWU. At times, this is tolerable (as with Admiral Tarkin and Kanan Jarrus) or even integral to the plot (as with the Kaminoans), but at other times it feels a little shoehorned in: Cad Bane, Fennec Shand, Chopper, Saw Gerrera, and even Cham and Hera Syndulla (and Chopper) all make appearances. Thankfully, a recurring character is Cid (Rhea Perlman in a role she clearly is having fun in), a Trandoshan who finds side-quests which fill out the plot of many of the season’s middle episodes.
The quality of the animation is the highest I’ve seen in a Star Wars show. The actions scenes are easy to follow and is thankfully not cartoonish (one show which will remain nameless showed bad guys missing shots from closer range than any of the movies, which completely undercut the stakes). The lighting is done well and really is its own character in the show.
This undersells the emotional development and meaning that the show delivers—and what else is a TV show for? Overall, I happily give the show an A—an A+ if you are already a Star Wars fan. There’s still time to binge Season 1 before the release of Season 2, which is due out on Disney+ this fall.
Hey—Wizards of the Coast are the ones who codenamed the playtest One D&D. I just happened to point out the coincidence and cues with that and the hit by Queen.
So, I apologize for the video-heavy post, but it does give the base information that I’m referring to. And noting that, here’s the official announcement of the upcoming major update to Dungeons & Dragons that will coincide with the 50th anniversary (and soon after, my own 50th birthday. Damn, I’m getting old.)
In essence, it’s apt to call it 5.5 edition, since it’s backwards compatible with the current 5th edition. And, the current edition is effectively just getting service updates instead of a rehaul because the company, and also many of the player base, feel like it’s hit the right combination of mechanics in general. (Of course, there’s those who won’t be satisfied unless it goes absolutely into their mental concept of D&D because that’s what’s “right” for the game, and those folks are scattered all along the rules-light to rules-intense spectrum, and many other metrics of gameplay. That’s what customization and homebrew is for.) As such, the game is dropping the concept of editions entirely, and more or less expanding on what a fair number of folks see as a “good thing.”
There’s already a playtest document released on D&D Beyond, and it deals with character origins: the stuff that shapes a character before they leap into adventuring, such as race and background. The term “race” is a tricky one, and in fantasy contexts is more apt to describe “species,” but I digress. There’s a genuine effort to show what comes from where, and noting that certain things are due to culture and background while others are genetic. As such, things like ability score modifiers are now linked to a character’s background rather than their race. It’s no longer that all orcs are strong because fantasy genetics, but rather one might have encountered a lot of strong orcs because those orcs were soldiers or laborers or others who have grown up doing a lot of strength-based activities in their developing lives. Along the same lines, elves and gnomes aren’t smarter on average because fantasy genetics, but because one may have mostly encountered elves and gnomes who focused on education and learning in their developing lives.
While two of my favorite core races of prior editions are absent from this playtest: the half-elf and the half-orc, they actually aren’t gone from the game. One of the biggest challenges has been considering all of the possible combinations that players may wish to have as a character option, like a dwarf/orc crossbreed, a gnome/kender mix, a human/elf mix, and so on. Well, per these new rules, that option is simply to select one of the parent races for the mechanical in-game abilities, but appearance-wise, use whatever mix & match of traits from both parents the plaer wishes. This makes things easier to resolve rather than literally building every single possible combination there is. It also seems to be the approach that franchises like Star Wars have taken when dealing with children of interspecies romance, where such pairings are possible. (And though I’m not versed in it, it seems like the viable approach for similar characters in the Star Trek franchise, like Mr. Spock and K’Ehleyr.)
I won’t delve too much into absolutely everything covered in the document or the video, as champing at the bit as I am to do so, but I will note that this approach to mixed heritage characters goes along with one of the core foundational approached with the game: simple while effective. The advantage and disadvantage system in the game does this: instead of a big equation of positive and negative modifiers from multiple sources adjusting a result from a die roll, just roll 2 dice: with advantage, take the better roll; with disadvantage, take the worse roll. Boom. Done; resolved; no math headache or argument on how the equation was determined or any number of things that can drag down and make the gaming experience unenjoyable for a fair number of players. (If one likes arguing over math equations, may I suggest a career in academia?)
And really, I think that this is a big thing for the game. There’s going to be a paired-down, free-for-all version per the System Reference Document, then the full bells-and-whistles version including iconic IP like beholders and mind flayers and other stuff that’s up for purchase, and then there’ll be the additional options readily available out there for those who want them. This game has persisted longer than its original creators, and it seems that there’s a genuine interest in making the game a legacy that isn’t susceptible to endless change, revision, edition, and the like, unless it’s necessary to better the game. In essence, I think there’s an effort to codify the base rules so that any generation from here on out can just jump in and play the game once those rules are learned, like one might do when playing chess, checkers, Texas hold ’em, or any other well-established game.
C’mon… you should know by now I’d make reference to this, based off of reading my prior posts.
One of the most challenging aspects to the creative process, whether writing fiction or a session for a tabletop role-playing game, is selecting the setting of the story/event. In some instances, the very element or issue addressed, or even a character focused on, helps narrow down this selection process; if you’re writing a story about a Victorian-era superhero, then more likely than not said story will take place during the reign of Queen Victoria, and within a suitable locale during that time. But sometimes, determining where everything occurs helps determine what occurs or whom is encountered. Sometimes that can be an overwhelming decision to make.
As a sole author of a work, like fiction, in many instances you are the sole individual to select or develop a setting for the work, and things go from there. However, when it comes to RPGs, the setting has to appeal not just to the one running the game, but to its players as well. There are several different published and established campaign settings out there for all the various genres and systems of TTRPGs, not to mention the homebrew created worksthat exist as well, so to discuss this issue I’m going to focus solely on published settings for various editions of Dungeons & Dragons, primarily because I’m relatively well-versed in them.
Now, there are means to travel between these various worlds (many of which involving magic of some sort), and such travel serves as the basis for at least three settings/utilities for D&D as it is. But, overall, let’s have a general overview of the various D&D settings available/out there:
Blackmoor: The personal setting of creator Dave Arneson.
Greyhawk: The personal setting of creator E. Gary Gygax, which was the official setting of 3.5 ed.
Dragonlance: The setting that really opened the door for D&D expanding into literature and other media.
Pelinore: The setting used in the UK publication Imagine.
Mystara: The default setting for the “Basic” edition of D&D, which was fleshed out to impressive degree. It too had many Earth-like analogs, but included more fantastic whimsy like Hollow World (name says what it is), Red Steel, Thunder Rift and the Savage Coast.
Forgotten Realms: The personal setting of Ed Greenwood, frequent contributor of Dragon magazine, the current “default” setting for 5th ed. D&D, this world has many Earth-like analogs, including the the lands of the Mongol-like “Horde,” the Asian analog of Kara-Tur, the Arabian analog of Al-Qadim, the New World analog of Maztica, and even the Indochina analog of Malatra.
Ravenloft: Originally a demiplane(s) of horror, where horror tropes were king, though now it’s part of the Shadowfell, and thus integrated into D&D as part of the overall setting (much as with Spelljammer and Planescape).
Dark Sun: Post-apocalyptic D&D setting, with psychic abilities.
Council of Wyrms: A setting where players are dragons. There’s some other elements, but really, that’s its schtick.
Jakandor: A “campaign arena” which has necromancers versus barbarians.
Spelljammer: D&D in SPACE! SPACE! SPACE!…
Planescape: D&D in the spiritual cosmos: Seven Heavens, Asgard, Abyss, Tarterus, Nirvana, Pandemonium, etc. Based in the neutral hub city of Sigil, where everything can come to meet the other without “invading” another’s domain.
Birthright: More focused on kingdoms and nations clashing, so sort of creeping back to the wargaming roots.
Eberron: Creation of Keith Baker that won the contest search for a new D&D setting. A high technomagical setting that is based on good old action-paced pulp adventurers, with a backstory that gives off big post WWI-vibes ala the Indiana Jones series.
Ghostwalk: A setting where the players are the spirits of the dead (presumabily dead adventurers, so it’s adventure after death).
Mahasarpa: A South Asian-themed setting.
Nentir Vale: The default setting of 4th edition, which some people do prefer (and whose elements one can see within other works, like Critical Role).
Radiant Citadel: This central locale connects 15 different and diverse worlds to the central extraplanar hub known as the Radiant Citadel. It’s easily capable of having adventurers visit each world, as well as originate from each world.
Magic: the Gathering: While it doesn’t cover all of the various settings made over the years, the worlds of Ravnica, Theros and Strixhaven have seen official releases for the game. There have also been previous official article releases in .pdf form for Amonkhet, Dominaria, Innistrad, Ixalan, Kaladesh and Zendikar.
Licensed Works: And though these are all works created by other creators, they are feasibly “in play” for those who wish to use them for a D&D game: Lankhmar; Conan and Red Sonja; Thieves’ World; Kingdoms of Kalamar; Diablo; Rokugan (Legend of 5 Rings); Exandria (Critical Role); Warcraft.
While Spelljammer is a “setting” of its own, it, like Planescape, is sort of a “macro” setting that technically incorporates everything else. Through the spelljammer ships of Spelljammer or the portals of Planescape, the players can travel to just about any realm that they desire. It also can permit diasporas of beings limited or native to one particular setting to somehow show up in a world they are not naturally found. (The Radiant Citadel could permit this as well, though it’s a bit more focused/limited in scope story-wise).
In essence, there’s plenty of established choices for a group to use for play, as well as canonical options to say “the heck with it” and just hop around the various settings willy-nilly. If you will, the game itself doesn’t require you to commit to just one locale, which has always been true since the start, but there’s clear and easy methods to implement this element that are a featured element of the game, now present in the current edition of the game.
Imagine a D&D multiverse where your characters are cosmic murderhobos… (Image copyright Marvel, obviously)
The current version of Spelljammer not only delves into the material established previously, but it even touches upon material from a sci-fi game TSR released long ago: Star Frontiers. Now the ooze-like Plasmoids and gliding simian Hadozee can be used in D&D games alongsize Dark Sun’s insectile Thri-Kreen or the upcoming Dragonlance’s Kender.
One of the key things about role-playing games and other creative works in general is that its all guided imagination: there’s in-universe boundaries and limits to help the seemingly limitless and boundless wonders within make some degree of sense. Otherwise, it may be entertainign chaos, but it won’t be as resonant and endearing as many fictional franchises are.
So, the latest Dungeons & Dragons adventure module, Journeys Through the Radiant Citadel was released recently. I obtained a digital copy of the work, though as I’ve gone through it, I like the resource so much that I may consider including a physical copy to my collection due to the book’s utility and some of the interesting aspects of the titular setting at the heart of this book.
So, in summary, deep in the Etherial Plane is this gigantic floating fossil with a massive crystal in the center, which wayward extradimensional travelers discovered and took over as a base of operations, carving out a place to survive and thrive in. If you will, it’s sort of like a D&D version of Deep Space 9, or Babylon 5, except it’s not really in the equivalent of “space” in D&D (which is going to be covered in the upcoming Spelljammer release), and things tend to be generally harmonious between everyone (so it seems), rather than a meeting point of multiple factions constantly at everyone else’s throats.
It’s also a gateway to several unique cultures/worlds not covered in D&D before, drawing upon milieus other than the generic European fantasy realm-analog that a lot of milestone fantasy works use. It’s all good and clever stuff, and it addresses aspects about the cultural elements or elements that shaped the culture without having to literally rely on the actual events and cultures that inspired it. A great example is a realm which leads to a theocracy ruled by a celestial entity (not a deity, but a servant thereof), and the factions and conflicts that arise in relation to this aspect. The setting is inspired from real-life Iran (both its historical predecessors and its modern incarnation), but its not sloppily done by just cribbing history and slightly changing the names (so no Prince of “Qersia” or “Byatollah” of “Jran” or anything like that). For one, the author of this section is part of the very (real-world) culture that is drawn upon, and it’s done so with respect but as well as honesty about the challenges facing it.
It’s these things, as well as the opening adventure, that sold me on this sourcebook. Narratively, I’ve already developed a link to this unique location for my homebrew setting (and with that, for those in the know, let me just say: I’ve called black opal and lynx already for my campaign). I think it’d be kind of cool if the official established D&D settings may also identify similar links to their published D&D settings, if only to narratively facilitate the interconnection of these realms through the Radiant Citadel.
There have always been third party publishers who have created material and settings from cultures beyond those frequently used for fantasy like D&D. To be fair, I was always a bit nervous about investing in those products, primarily because I didn’t know how, if and when I could use the material, but also if I would be clumsy, and thus unintentionally disrepectful, in my use of it. It also makes me consider some much older works of fantasy that do derive from non-European sources that have interested players before; the one that immediately comes to mind, unfortunately, has recently revealed a rather malign underbelly of its creator, which the fans of the material are having to grapple with in their own ways. (And, as a weird retrospective sidenote, there has been some underlying hesitancy on my part of exploring the works even before all of this mess, though I think it has to deal with a lack of interest of the basic concept of the material rather than some weird back-projection-through-time-from-future-self-to-warn-past-self-of-the-issue sort of weirdness: more “meh-sense” than “Spidey-sense.”)
Therein, if you will, is what may be at the heart of some of the hesitancy to attempt such approaches before now. For one, would it be a respectful homage to that material, or just a fetishization of it for a culturally-different majority audience? In addition, would there be enough interest in such a product to repay the time, effort and cost to create it? In my perspective, I think that there is interest in the material, but as we can see in this new book, it’s more of a showcase of multiple examples covering multiple cultures rather than an intense deep-dive into one single culture. I believe this is a wise approach on Wizards of the Coast’s part, since it allows an anchoring point for many people to get into different approaches to the application of a familiar and well-known game. Also, if you will, I think it’s savvy because it includes a lot, shows how more can be included, and does what it can to be inclusive without being exclusive at the same time. What do I mean by that?
Simply put, we need only to look at previous D&D supplements to get an idea of this. The prime example I’m going to refer to is the 1st ed. AD&D Oriental Adventures sourcebook. Going beyond the title’s problematic aspects, the setting focuses a lot on a Japanese-like fantastical setting. Its grand setting of Kara-Tur has analogs for a lot of other Asian cultures in the text, but the focus is more on that China-Korea-Japan triangle of influence and flavor, with little delving into South or Southeast Asian elements. Furthermore, it really seems like it’s made to capitalize on the fetishized interest in those cultures during the 1980’s—it’s less Kurosawa, not so much Bruce Lee, but more like Brucespoitation, American Ninja or Gymkata (but pre-breakout of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles). For those in the know or of the cultures touched upon, there’s a bit of cringe caused. No cringe with this item, I’d argue.
One upshot of the digital age is creating digital works that make investigation and availability of materials much, much easier than the old methods of physical publication and distribution. On DMsGuild.com, some of the settings are explored further with Journeys Beyond the Radiant Citadel, which provides even more information on some of these worlds, especially if they are what players wish to use for a regular campaign, or even a regularly-visited set of locales. Thanks to the digital format there’s no worry about a product on a shelf missing its potential audience because its either on the wrong shelf or right people don’t happen to see it. And it allows others, like an old guy like me, to gain perspective and some degree of understanding of others their their own handcrafted lenses. Then again, that’s part of the power of creative works—it provides a means to express and share things with several others, providing deep meaning to those well-versed in all the references, but still engaging and illuminating for those novices who interact with the work.
For those who may have not invested in the D&D Rules Expansion Gift Set, the relatively recent release of Monsters of the Multiverse recalibrated a fair number of monsters and playable character races (or heritages—not sure of the official nomenclature as of yet). To summarize, a lot of options were included in one book instead of keeping them scattered across multiple sources, and they have been reworked to make them easier to use in a game. Furthermore, the revisions to the playable races simply reformatted the entries into the new standard structure for that mechanic going forward: standardized movement of 30′ (whether Small or Medium sized), players beign free to have place the +2 and +1 ability score modifiers wherever they’d prefer instead of having them “fixed” to specific ability scores like Strength or Wisdom; a standard option for the character to be fluent in the Common language plus one other language of choice, rather than having them being automatically fluent in a set racial language (to account for the “dwarf raised among orcs” backstory crowd); and other notable changes.
Some see this as the soft revision of 5th ed., while others mark it as a pending shift to 6th ed. If anything, I tend to see it as 5.5 ed., enabling some revisions but keeping the basic heart of the engine in the shape it’s in. The thing is, as seen by many a gaming veteran, is that new editions sometimes have the tendency to divide the players; some stick with the old(er) edition they prefer, while others adopt or champion the latest and greatest version out there. The fact that older editions of D&D are still available for sale for those who want them acknowledges this.
I would think it to be unwise for D&D to take up a new edition, only because the current system works rather well, and really just needs correction and tweaking, in my opinion (though that isn’t necessarily shared by everyone). There’s a lot of ancillary items that feed off of D&D and in turn help feed it, such as the Critical Role fandom, so switching systems and gears may not be the wisest course at the time. But small, gradual modifications and changes may be the better approach.
There’s tons of other games out there, and they too also suffer uphill challenges from revising or updating their systems to a new one. However, as big as they are, I don’t think they really got to be as prominent or foundational as D&D has become over the years, even though they were more popular than D&D in their respective times. In many cases, the wheel has been completely reinvented, though the IP may be familiar: consider the 3 vastly different versions of Star Wars RPGs that have been released, each with their own benefits and downfalls; or, consider the various versions of licensed Marvel Comics RPGs for that matter. The IP is familiar, but the mechanics are vastly different, making them dramatically different games.
I don’t mean to sound like a cheerleader for D&D, but I do feel that the fact that it’s still around, selling well and has a relatively low number of editions under its brand name in comparison to some other games says something significant. The IP is the same and the basic concepts, structures, and play methods are the same. Is the system different from how it originally was? Oh yes, but to a degree—the ability scores still tend in the 3–18 range, rather than suddenly switching over to a 1–100 scale or an adjective scale or a a totally different set of abilities or anything else like that, which has occurred in many other games using the same IP. It may have various editions competing against itself, but at least the core concepts and some basic terminology and aspects remain the same regardless of the edition, and inter-edition player discussion is not much of an issue. Even games derived or inspired by D&D, like Pathfinder or Hackmaster (not to mention any edition clones like Castles & Crusades or Labyrinth Lord), have that familiar heart of a game system.
I don’t think I’ll have to buy a whole new set of rulebooks and sourcebooks again. I also don’t think that there’s too many problems with the game in its current form that it suffers from an abundance of errata, or is weighed down with “bloat” courtesy of sourcebooks or other sources. If anything, it’s a bit of a wash and a tune-up, but it’s the same car you love to drive under the hood.
I’m writing this hours after something utterly horrible has happened. It’s something which caused my anxiety to flare up and my outrage to erupt. I’m trying to use this negative energy for something, because it’s keeping me from sleeping at the moment. The horrible event that has me in this state got me thinking about fear, anger, hate, and horror. It reminds me that there’s enough out there to be legitimately terrified about without having to make stuff up or think of supernatural forces to trigger that fear.
In short, we are too efficient at making our own monsters.
I would suggest that anyone consider that when trying to create something horrible for a fictional work. Don’t disregard the mundane in its ability to mortify. At least two recent horrible tragic gut-wrenching events have occurred in the US that reinforces this, not even touching on the reality that is Ukraine right now.
The terror is multilayered: the disregard of the warning signs; the willing ignorance about addressing, much less solving the issue at hand; the bloody heartbreaking toll that it takes on the families and communities impacted by it; the despair and disillusionment that cements inaction, countering any calls to meaningful positive action; the manipulation of the issue by those who benefit from the dystopia evoked by all of this. The virtual or literal destruction of the perpetrator(s) of such nightmares is short shrift for those grieving the loss of loved ones. This isn’t any sort of cathartic execution of Count Rugen by Inigo Montoya—this is the stunned grief in the aftermath of a disaster. Horrible loss endured that never can offer any semblance of fair or healing restitution. This is the sort of loss and grief that continues to destroy long after the disaster has ended.
If anything of events such as these are used for fictional works, I would suggest that they serve as warnings to the audience. The broken families and communities impacted by the disaster are the result of inaction, greed, willful ignorance, abuse of law, or a lack of moral conviction, or even all of the above. It should serve as a stark reminder of what is at stake, and what irreparable harm will occur if things are left to be as they are. The town of Derry from It (especially from the recent films) comes to mind. That town endured constant tragedy, and there was an unspoken unwillingness to do anything about it. It wasn’t until the Losers Club did do something, despite the adults’ and the town’s malign indifference, that It was dealt with at first, and then for good.
However, regardless if a threat is ended, the damage has been done, and will linger long after that event. The trauma may be so great for some that it ruins their future prospects and lead to more tragedy and suffering along the way, if not potentially setting the stage for another disaster. For some of the most hate-filled and monstrous out there, the disaster may be inspirational, ultimately leading them to commit their own atrocities.
Such horrible events and their lingering influence, if they are to be used in a fictional work, should be used not to pound the table on a personal pet peeve, but rather to emphasize the consequences of a lack of action, or making and committing to a difficult choice, for the sake of a community and its future. “Allowing” the vampire to feed on villagers rather than destroying it, or failing to oust a tyrant out of an aversion to conflict, or any such bad continuous situation that repeatedly spawns tragedy is a considerable analog for the problems at hand.
But then again, I would argue that no allegory or pastiche is necessary to tackle this in fiction. Imagine superheroes having to tackle events like this, much less the fallout of an event like this. How would a Superman-like character deal with something like this? Of course, such a character would be often used in a positive wish-fulfilling role to prevent something horrible like this from happening, but what if it was too late to stop? How would a Batman-like character deal with this? A Spider-Man-like character? A Punisher-like character? Imagine the Punisher wreaking havoc on businesses and politicians whose inaction led to such a tragedy—it’d be revenge fantasy for one, but horrific as well.
This is a very difficult topic to address. However, staying silent and hoping and praying it won’t happen again while simultaneously failing to take actions to actually prevent it from happening again is delusional and futile. There are generations dealing with trauma, and the suck-it-up approach to treat it fails horribly. Fictional works, whether consumable or interactive, is one means at our disposal to tackle the mere concept of such horror. And, as such, be a means for some to face the terror on their own terms, or share the experience and impact without forcing others to literally endure the same horrors themselves.
Batwoman was finally canceled after limping along for two extra seasons. I saw one episode of the show (the first) and tuned out ever since. But from the sidelines, it’s been an interesting study on how the CW has tried to chase an audience that didn’t reciprocate its interest in bulk. In a country with 332 million people in it, Batwoman as a show is only trying to chase .001% of it, their core audience of 450,000.
What went wrong first?I’d say it’s that the show decided from the start not to chase the comic book fandom or the Batman fandom, but a very tiny cross section of the progressive LGTBQ+/diversity crowd that likes comics and watches TV. Instead of going for mass appeal, from the earliest trailers they made it clear they were writing for a very particular audience.
From the very first trailers, slogans about how the Batsuit would be “perfect, once it fits a woman,” and the casting of Ruby Rose (a prominent lesbian actress in the part of a lesbian superhero) really pushed who the show was trying to appeal to the most.
From a business standpoint it’s good to know who your audience is and what your product is about, but in show business with network television you need viewer volume to justify costs. One of the biggest problems with Batwoman the series was that the target demographic is notoriously tiny; each season was trying to hang onto that core audience lost the “normies” who were tuning in for the story, the action, the drama, and the links to the Batman mythos.
What numbers are we talking about? Well, let’s start with a big picture view:
The CW overall in 2021-2022 has taken some major hits, with none of their top 10 shows cracking an average of a million viewers per episode. Check it out:[1]
On this chart Batwoman doesn’t look like it’s in terrible shape compared to the bottom half, until you also factor in that it’s lost over 60% of its viewership since season one.
As a comparison, here’s CBS’s numbers for the same season:[2]
CBS’ lowest rated scripted show pulls in 2.276 million viewers on the average, which is better than double “Superman & Lois,” the best performing CW show on the chart, which pulls in .9 million.
Plus the retention numbers (year to year) wasn’t filled with good news either. Batwoman lost 28% of their target demographic from last year. They have around 450,000 regular viewers . . . that’s it. In comparison to Good Sam, the bottom-of-the-barrel CBS show, Good Sam had 560% more viewers!
If that wasn’t bad enough, Good Sam’s time slot is Wednesday at 10 PM! The Primetime CW shows are earlier (7–9), meaning that Good Sam on CBS as a middle-of-the-week late show crushed every CW show in what are considered the best time slots. [3]
What does this all mean?
Batwoman got slaughtered in ratings by the other broadcast companies and took such a beating that the WORST show on another network pulled in over 4 times the viewership. Add to that during season one Batwoman lost over 60% of the original audience.
The show was likely renewed twice because the show wasn’t the absolute bottom of the CW barrel, but compared to other TV shows on other networks, it would have been canceled after season one, maybe even during season one. However, because it’s the CW and all their shows have way lower viewership than the other companies, it survived. I also think the company didn’t want to admit defeat with this property, even after losing its main star; even after the serious dive in viewers and writing quality in season two; after all of that it was renewed for a third season. That decision defied most TV logic. It’s true some shows don’t find their footing until a few seasons in, but usually those shows have over a million interested viewers.
Batwoman isn’t alone; the CW as a company appears ready to sell off the network, (possibly to Nexstar), which may mean a radical shake up for the entire line up of shows and the company overall.
Let’s talk the technical side of the show and not just marketing. Why did it perform badly?
Time for a deeper dive. Aside from the demographic targets and the marketing of Batwoman, the production itself has had some major problems.
Batwoman . . .
lost their original main star (Ruby Rose),
lost their arguably biggest name actor (Dougray Scott),
experienced the same challenges of filming a TV show or movie during COVID,
and then had to replace Rose with newcomer Javicia Leslie playing a new character, Ryan Wilder, with no comic book background, which was a big miss with a lot of Batwoman fans, who came into the show off the strength of the comic revamp of Kate Kane.
To be frank, Ryan Wilder as a character, a reformed criminal living in a van down by the river, wasn’t a strong replacement for the cousin of Bruce Wayne, and wasn’t well written. Having an ex-criminal don the costume on a whim and just “be” Batwoman, without any story lead-up or in-universe training, didn’t do anything to enable the audience to suspend disbelief, not even the “core” audience. The whole change to a new character was a mess. Ryan Wilder’s first season’s story focused more on criminality than heroics, a bad call for a show that never found solid footing even when Rose and Scott were still in play.
The marketing for the show infamously had conflicting ideals; for instance, Kate’s insistence that she didn’t want anyone stealing the credit for her persona/work, while simultaneously stealing every aspect of the Batman identity for herself to use. This conflict in ideals also led to a conflict between the intended audience, and the wider audience, pitting the feminist ideal of a woman empowering herself against the plot reality of a woman taking on the mission and trappings of the man who started a legacy.
Ultimately, this show has suffered from a poor start, low budget, and a plague of problems both internal and external.
Could anything have saved the show?
I absolutely think so. First, if the show had kicked off with someone like Bruce Wayne having trained Kate Kane and asking her to take over due to a long absence he needed to handle, I think a lot of the core Batman fandom would have been down for the ride. Batwoman exists as a character because of Batman; instead of respecting that origin, the show tried to put a very negative light onto the character of Batman. That was a big mistake. Even the marketing divided the audience before the show even aired; by unifying Kate and Bruce to the same mission and showing a deep respect, (even familial love) between the two, that could have fostered a unification of the target audiences as well.
Second, I think the show would have been a lot better after Rose’s departure with recasting Kate Kane, and keeping Kate-the-character in the suit. An audience that was already having trouble investing in the star as the character was then asked to believe in Ryan Wilder as a super hero, when everything about her was antithetical to being a super hero. What makes Bruce Wayne Batman or Kate Kane Batwoman? Well, it’s that both honed their minds and bodies into a living weapons against crime, but through very different paths; creating a new character who is supposed to just step in and be brilliant because she believes she’s strong doesn’t work with anyone who understands reality or comic book reality.
Third, a fresh angle would have helped. “The Batman” had a nice take of focusing on Batman as a detective again. I think Batwoman would have worked better at the inception if Kate was in over her head and struggling to rise into the role. But because it’s an episodic show, a good fresh take wasn’t likely to happen. But I think it would have helped a lot.
What makes me sad about the show ending? Well, I may not have been a fan of the show, but Rachel Skarsten and I went to the same church in Los Angeles for a while and I found her to be a wonderful human being with a great work ethic and dedication to her craft. In this town there are a lot of fake people but I found her to be a real gem, so I’m a little sad she lost her job.
I’m sure she’ll bounce back just fine; she’s really beautiful, talented, and not afraid to work in Vancouver or LA. I wish her and the rest of the cast and crew a speedy journey to their next projects.
Let’s keep going on our writing series. One of the biggest complaints from critics of fiction about flat, shallow characters is that they lack flaws. But what does that really mean? Well, in all honesty, they’re usually complaining about the execution of said flaw; obviously, not having it there in the first place is a big strikeout, but giving a character a flaw that never is fully explained, fleshed out, or that penalizes the character make for a flaw that falls flat.
Let’s take a look at a really common “flaw” with a lot of heroic characters: Trust Issues.
You’re going to have to do some homework and preparation when giving your character a flaw. If you want your character to have depth, you’re going to have craft multiple elements to any particular aspect of a character, especially the flaws, because it’s usually the flaws that drive the conflicts for that character!
First up, make strong decisions on where these trust issues come from. The source of their distrust matters IMMENSELY, because people with trust issues come in different flavors and act out that distrust in different ways.
Was this person…
Bullied?
Betrayed by a close family member like a brother or sister?
Grew up in a rough area?
Set up by someone they thought was a close friend?
Inverted: maybe this person was the bully, but reformed; however, they may not trust themselves and thier own impulses.
Were they constantly set up for disappointment?
Maybe they come from a family where one child was adored more than the rest?
Could this person have been constantly promised that, “this time, it’s for real!” which of course, it wasn’t?
Does this person lack trust because when it was their time to be front and center, everyone let them down?
Inverted: This person got everything they ever thought they were due… until NOW. This story about trust issues is about a person going through the situation where their perfect life has now been flipped and everything is going WRONG.
How about cheating?
Fool me once, shame on you, but fool me twice… shame on me.
Inverted: Could this person have trust issues because they were the person who DID the cheating, and now they don’t trust themselves? Don’t be afraid of inversions!
Maybe abandonment?
Classic orphan – this person was abandoned by any and all family and left to fend for themselves.
Classic rogue – this person lives in a dirty world of grey where the only thing keeping them alive is their healthy mistrust of others
Inverted: this is the story of how someone who has always known love and support has now been completely ostracized; this might be due to tragedy, personal illness, maybe an accident or crime, etc.
Do you see how just looking at one aspect of that flaw, (where it came from) already can have many different approaches, backstories, and shades of flavor it gives a character? Saying a character has “trust issues” is really broad; but once you make solid decisions on where those issues come from, you start adding unique flavors to your character.
Other questions to consider:
How does this flaw help or hurt their relationships?
How does this flaw help or hurt their job/career/goals?
How does this character try to overcome this flaw?
Would inverting the situation work better for the character I’m crafting?
Thinking about these things and adding in these layers help you make a three dimensional character. It’s a great exercise, and I encourage any writers to give these serious thought as they work.
Just writing that a character is mistrustful can be a nice trait to flavor your character, but if you want this character to really shine, you should take the time to decide on why this person is distrustful. It’s not a universal attribute; we tend to want to trust everyone implicitly until our trust is BROKEN. Who broke it, how it got broken, and why it got broken become the scar tissue and safety mechanisms around our hearts that we use as a barrier from having it happen again.
Many classic heroes are distrustful, usually because they choose to trust the wrong person or the wrong thing at the wrong time. That becomes a pivot point for the character moving forward.
As the writer, the more solid this is for you, the better you’ll craft this character for the audience. Specifics matter to the writer, even if you choose not to disclose all your work from behind the curtain!
And don’t be afraid of inversions, too: Batman has a blindspot for trusting children. Despite not having any real attraction to any women in the world, Sherlock Holmes allows himself to be awed by Irene Adler. Sheriff Enos in the Dukes of Hazzard can’t help but fall for Daisy Duke’s charms every single time, despite knowing he’s getting conned. Charlie Brown is a cynic, yet he constantly wants to trust Lucy when tries to kick the football. Even though all these characters are distrusting, by seeing the cracks in their armor we learn something important about the character. In fact, a whole story can be built around the inversion: this is the one time this person decided TO trust, or was FORCED to trust someone else, despite naturally being distrusting.
Whatever you choose, make it strong, make it clear, and make it well defined!
I try not keep things short and sweet, (and leave the long posts to Sir Knowsalot), but I’ve been trying to write about TV and films in my blog and the review section, and due to recent events, I thought I’d share my thoughts on The Oscars, and why I think they are one of the best con jobs ever produced in the U.S. I’ve lived and worked in [redacted] for [redacted] years, getting near to the 20-year mark. I love the TV and Film industry, but I’ve also seen many of its problems first-hand. Personally, I think The Oscars have run their course, but I think by talking about what would need to be fixed, more people can understand what is so very wrong with this award and the culture around it.
So how do you make the Oscars popular again?
The list is long, but it’s starts with breaking up the elite country club/political platform it has become and moves towards objectivity, true inclusivity, and raising the bar on excellence by awarding for merit. And it wouldn’t hurt to thank the fans.
Problem 1: The Academy Awards are essentially a con with you as the victim.
The notion of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (AMPAS) began with Louis B. Mayer, head of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM). He said he wanted to create an organization that would mediate labor disputes without unions and improve the film industry’s image. [1]
Think of it this way: the major names in an industry got together and thought of a way to award themselves for the job they do to increase their profile and standing with everyone outside their industry.
This was almost 100 years ago, and chances are, you grew up with the Academy Awards, and thinking it was natural for Actors to get awards. And I mean, LOTS of awards!
But what other industry is this self-congratulatory? Do sheep farmers have awards and televise the results? (They do actually have awards, but since you likely didn’t know about them, that serves my point.) Do accountants have a, “Best document creation in Excel” category for their work? Not even politicians give each other awards like the arts industries do: The Academy Awards, The Tonys, The Grammys, and more. In fact, The Oscars are only one of MANY film industry awards, like the AFI awards, The Hollywood Film Awards, the Screen Actors Guild Awards, and… well, you get where I’m going.
It’s smoke and mirrors designed to make you think that what they do is more important than what you do, or that being in this profession makes them better and more noteworthy than you.
And to a lesser extent, it satisfies a personal need in arts types to be recognized and feel special.
What they do is definitely higher profile than what you may do, but the con for my industry is convincing you to idolize us; the best way to do that is to convince you that we have something you don’t, but then saying we’re letting you into our world and giving you the backstage pass.
That’s what the Oscars are: they are there to convince you that this industry is more than what it actually is. The Film industry is creative job field and some of the most fun I’ve had in my working life, but it’s just a job. One day on set demystifies all of the glitz and glam. But most people never have that experience. The real magic of the Oscars is that they create the illusion of the Wizard from the Wizard of Oz: the illusion is that it’s a great and powerful being that is better than you; the reality is that there is a man just like you, (or possibly worse) hiding behind the curtain.
If the Academy wants to be popular in our modern world, it should start by admitting they are nothing without the fans, and maybe instead of breaking their arms patting themselves on the back, they put more effort into entertaining the fans. Spending one night trying to please the crowd would go a long way towards making people at least want to WATCH the spectacle of the Oscars, even if it has no real meaning.
Problem 2: The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences is basically a Hollywood Country Club that hands awards to each other.
Why is this problem? Let’s start with the membership. To become a member, you have to be sponsored by two current members, which is the main way of coming in. [2]
Nepotism already runs deeply through Hollywood, but this adds another layer since the “most prestigious” awards for filmmaking is basically a club of people who have to want you in for you to get in. It’s NOT necessarily merit based.
Imagine a football team where the players decided who they wanted to join the team, and no one else had a say. Then, regardless of how the team performed in the season, the give each other awards on who they think the best players are, without any input from fans, professional sports writers, or any other form of critique. As an added bonus, the interior politics of the team count more than merit: “Johnny got his trophy last year, so this year, it’s Billy’s turn!”
That is the AMPAS right now. It’s made of elite people, for elite people, and insulated from anyone who isn’t invited.
But that’s actually how it was designed: from AMPAS Wikipedia [3]
The notion of the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences (AMPAS) began with Louis B. Mayer, head of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM). He said he wanted to create an organization that would mediate labor disputes without unions and improve the film industry’s image. He met with actor Conrad Nagel, director Fred Niblo, and the head of the Association of Motion Picture Producers, Fred Beetson to discuss these matters. The idea of this elite club having an annual banquet was discussed, but no mention of awards at that time. They also established that membership into the organization would only be open to people involved in one of the five branches of the industry: actors, directors, writers, technicians, and producers.
So the first problem is that the GOAL of the AMPAS was never about rating movies on any objective scale or evaluating performances with a critical eye; it’s always been about OPTICS and trying to improve the film industry’s image. That needs to change: if you want to be taken seriously, you need to be serious.
If the Oscars want to be popular, they need to up their game and change the image of being a country club of rich elites and starts BEING a body of experts who critique films on some objective standards.
Problem 3: Oscars don’t mean jack.
Why? Because it’s all subjective to the members of the Academy, and there are no objective standards as to what makes for the ‘best’ in any category.
Yes, this is art, and yes, art can be viewed subjectively. But if you look at enough art, you do start to see patterns in craftsmanship that start to inform over time what is ‘great’ and what is not.
Here’s a good example that I like to use because I have background in acting. What makes for a great acting performance? Well, here are two Oscar performances, and we can compare the quality and see if one was superior to the other.
Jennifer Lawrence, “Silver Linings Playbook”
Heath Ledger, “The Dark Knight”
Subjectively, you can like one of these more than the other. But objectively, Heath Ledger did a lot more for his role than Jennifer Lawrence did for hers. Acting is about creating characters, and this character is so far away from who Heath Ledger is that he is unrecognizable as the actor. The voice, the mannerisms, the cadence to how he talks… these are all acting tools he used and combined with the makeup and wardrobe made for an unforgettable performance. It’s fair to say that in the auditions, 90% or better of the men who auditioned for the role all made what I would call the “safe” choices: likely an imitation of Jack Nicholson or Mark Hamill’s Jokers. Ledger took “risks”; the nasal voice for instance is an inspired choice that was either going to really work or really fall flat. And he made it work. Objectively speaking, when an actor can stretch so far out of their range, take risks, and craft a character so convincingly you don’t see them in it, they have done something very special. When you add the final layer, (the script), you can compare how most actors would read each line and compare it to Ledger’s take, and see how he brought each line to life with his character.
Jennifer Lawrence is probably making 75–85% of all the same choices another actress would have in the role, and as far as stretching, it’s a stretch on her normal range, but I’m not losing her in the role the way I did Ledger. It’s not just makeup, it’s all the physical tools, mannerisms, accents, and more. I’m not saying she did bad, but objectively, she did less acting than someone like Ledger for his role. Between the two performances, Heath Ledger’s was better.
Nightmare Alley was nominated for Best Picture at the 2022 Oscars: I saw this film. I’m probably one of the only ones who did. It’s box office was 37.8 million dollars. Was this film Best Picture material? I’d definitely say, “no”. I think most audience members who walked out of the film at the end would say, “no”. Should be considered for costuming, lighting, cinematography, and adaptation? Yes… those aspects of the film were outstanding, but it wasn’t enough to carry the film.
However, outside criticism doesn’t reach the interiors of the Academy. It doesn’t matter how few people actually went to see the film, or thought it was lackluster in terms of pacing and plot. The members of the Academy want to nominate it, so they do. Period.
You don’t get people excited to see the Oscars when they haven’t seen the movie that you’re nominating, or didn’t care about the film when you do nominate it. And that’s even more true if the audience didn’t think it was all that great, let alone “Best Picture” quality.
For a while, I think the public believed that the people running this process of nominating and awarding films for Oscars knew more than we did about films. And having worked on TV and film sets, I believe part of that is true: people who make films do know more about what goes into making a picture than your average joe. It’s their jobs.
But knowing the job is different than coming at it with a critical eye on the finished product. When it comes to technical achievements, insider know-how is very helpful, but when it comes to the subjective elements, (acting, directing, writing, etc.) it takes a different skill set… that of a critic… to judge the quality of the film. And a critic’s worth is only as good as their ability to reach for objectivity. Knowing facts, taking emotions and subjectivity out, and holding movies against particular standards can be a particular skill set, and may be more removed from interior politics and biases.
We’re also in a very different age when it comes to watching, reviewing, and critiquing films on our own. There have never been more options of who to listen to about rating films then there is today.
There is a downside, obviously, which is that the internet is so vast that you can find someone who exclusively agrees with your opinion about anything nearly instantaneously, which does make it harder to make an objective stance.
But that’s also what makes taking one so important, and by doing so, gives you credibility.
You’re not going to be perfect; no one is. But by striving for objectivity, you also end up striving for facts, fairness, and merit. That is what helps create standards.
If the Oscars want people to watch, they need to prove that the award they are giving out has some merit behind it. Someone racing for a gold medal in the Olympics has the benefit of definitive rules that establish the conditions to win or lose. The Oscars really needs something similar to lock in why winning their award is important.
Problem 4: The Oscars are out of touch with normal people.
The Oscars used to be fun for escapism. That time has passed. The more country has been divided ideologically, the more escapism has become important. So tuning into the Oscars just to hear Los Angelino one percenters show off how rich they are, lecture the audience on how evil we are, and prove their own hypocrisy is a bridge too far.
The other problem is the new attitude from around 2012 to now: “this isn’t for you”. Whether it’s Star Wars creators bashing on long time fans, or political messages having to be slipped into dialogue for films, or race bent casting, or yet another ‘adaptation’ of a property like Ghostbusters which is essentially a rip-off of the original with the uncreative change of using female actresses, the film industry’s depth seems to have gotten more shallow. The Oscars was a place you could tell fans from a big stage, “we love you and appreciate you, and without you, we’d have no job.” Now, the first thing the presenters want you to know is propaganda about Florida law.
The highest ratings for the Oscars was in 1998. [4] Titanic, As Good as it Gets, L.A. Confidential, The Full Monty, Donnie Branco, In & Out, Amistad, Anastasia, Wag the Dog, and even action movies like Con-Air & Starship Troopers were nominated for Awards. Oh, and a little film called Good Will Hunting.
That’s a very stacked deck. The industry has changed a lot since then, and so have the productions Hollywood pumps out. People tune out not just because of politics or being sick of the glam; there just isn’t a lot to tune in for.
For the Oscars to be relevant, they should consider the time-honored tradition of thanking their audience, and gearing the Oscars towards entertaining the common man, instead of lecturing him.
What does this mean? – Well, I think the glam Oscars isn’t likely going anywhere, and it wasn’t a problem until the audience felt like they were being lectured. So, drop the lecturing. Simple. And if you make it a point to try to appeal to the widest audience possible, (and accept that people who don’t politically believe what you believe enjoy movies too), and do something crazy like thanking the fans, you might see more come back.
To summarize: I don’t think the Oscars are ever really coming back unless they change their image, prove their awards have weight, and get in touch with the common man again.
Final thoughts: I think the Oscars have run their course. People and technology have changed, and unfortunately, AMPAS and the Oscars have been changing in an ugly way. They were created to basically be marketing “Hollywood”; that has turned into showing off how ugly Hollywood is now and how separate from normal people they are. To be honest, we, as the audience, don’t need the Oscars, and the Oscars have been set on trying to tell the audience how they don’t need us. That’s about as mutual of a parting-of-ways as you get.
I get asked all about zombie fiction all the time, mostly about why it’s popular, but more importantly, “what’s the point?!” Interestingly enough, if you’ve read The Walking Dead comic, it actually makes it very clear that the series has a very important point to make, far beyond what the individual struggles to survive would have you believe.
The Walking Dead was about carrying the light of civilization through the end of the old age and into the new; so really, the big takeaway is that we’re all just, “The Walking Dead” without civility, order, and morality to guide us.
WARNING: HUGE SPOILERS AHEAD
(okay, you’ve been warned.)
The Walking Dead comic book ends with a time skip after Rick’s death to a point in the future where his son, Carl, is married with children.
We discover that during the time skip, society got back up on its feet: civilization is rolling again, (though much lower down the technology chain) with schools, law, order, and justice; this was everything that Rick Grimes fought to keep alive during the fall of the previous civilization.
The Walking Dead, as a comic, isn’t so much about zombies as it is a study of what happens to humanity as we lose our humanity. Zombies are the catalyst for an apocalypse and an analogy for what humanity becomes: walking dead. Human bodies still moving around, but with no purpose, no morality, no spark of live in their eyes, and only the most rudimentary instincts of self-survival.
Each major villain and arc of the series, (in retrospect) shows the progress of descending into darkness and having less and less dignity or civility. With Shane, we see how good people go bad when the light inside them shifts to being about pure ‘survival math’ and how without law and order, we devolve into creatures motivated by our own selfish desires. With the Governor, we see how people desperately cling to liars and tyrants if it means they can live in the illusion of the old, familiar world. With Gareth and the cannibals, we see the next stage, which is that once the trappings of the old world are gone, humans ‘feed’ on each other, with cannibalism being the metaphor for how we become savage enough to take anything from our fellow man to save ourselves.
Then, the series shifts and we start seeing villains who are trying to build a new society, (like the Saviors) which lacks that “light” of the previous civilization, and it’s that light that Rick Grimes fights to have and keep in his communities. He isn’t a perfect person, but he stands out in the series as the leader who managed to hold on and make people believe that a new society could emerge with the same humanity the old civilization had.
I’ll let you make your own analysis from here, but I think you’ll get the point, and if you didn’t see it before, now all the villains of the series are going to make a lot more sense. Each set of villains is a metaphor for how humanity tries to adapt, (or fail to adapt) as a society. Even the Whisperers, creepy as they are, make metaphorical sense: people who try to blend in with the ‘new normal’ while actually losing parts of themselves in the process.
When you can step back and see the completed story, it actually becomes a much more intelligent fiction than what you’d originally believe when you’re in the minutiae of each issue. It’s a saga based around one former lawman who deeply believes in humanity, and his fight to keep that humanity in the face of the fall of society.
The biggest lesson to me, is this:
It’s not society that gives us our light, but our belief in morality, justice, honor, and kindness that give civilization its light. If you abandon these, you might manage to be physically alive, but dead inside because you have killed the spark of what makes us truly human.
I don’t know how the show will end because it has departed pretty far from the comic by killing off Carl and having Rick go MIA, and they are (literally) the keystone of the entire comic book. Since the story of the series is about Rick passing the torch down to Carl and what that torch actually means, it’s hard to say the show will make as strong an ending without these two lynchpin characters. But as a comic book, The Walking Dead, (when you understand the point), is actually a really terrific series in the zombie apocalypse genre because it’s not really about zombies, but people.
Continuing on writing characters for fiction, (and having recently watched, “Murder on the Nile” with Kenneth Branagh), I thought it’d be fun to go over some of the basics of writing detectives in fiction. Keep in mind, these aren’t hard-and-fast rules, but they are some of the basic building blocks that can get you started!
Observant
Great detectives are usually very observant… though how they get to be that way can be something the writers play with!
Many great detective creations start with a character that is simply observant: they see things and notice what other people seem to miss. Small details, like mud on a pair of shoes, may be significant or not to the case, but a good detective usually sees it before everyone else.
Let’s say a woman died, and the detective is at the crime scene. The observant detective is the one who notices not just that she’s married, or that her husband isn’t on site, but also that their car is missing, when everyone else hasn’t noticed they even had a car.
Uses logic
Logic: a proper or reasonable way of thinking about something : sound reasoning. (2) : a science that deals with the rules and processes used in sound thinking and reasoning.
The easy way of looking at this is that A should be processed in such a way as that it leads to B, then to C, and finally to D. A good detective doesn’t assume D right from the start; they look at the evidence, they follow where it leads, and make logical connections along the way.
For instance, a woman is murdered. She’s wearing a wedding ring; the husband is nowhere to be found, and their car is missing. Logical reasoning would lead the detective to believe that because the woman is dead, the husband is missing, and their car is gone, it’s likely the husband did it or is involved.
This isn’t to say they make their CONCLUSION… simply that their logic is fairly sound. The detective doesn’t see the woman dead, the husband missing, and the car gone and say, “Obviously, the BUTLER did it!” Logically, there’s no evidence of that.
Has deductive reasoning
This is a little different than straight logic. Deductive reasoning is where the detective uses what they’ve observed, their pattern of logic, and makes an informed “guess”.
Sherlock Holmes is infamous for his deductive reasoning. With very little observable evidence and his wealth of knowledge, he’s usually able to make a very accurate ‘guess’ that is usually right, based on logical conclusions he draws from what he sees.
It’s pretty much his coolest feature.
Let’s use the example of the woman and missing husband again. Sherlock in the same room, might notice that the woman is dead, the husband is missing, the car is missing… and then announce that the husband is a hostage, not the killer.
How does he do this? Well, he probably notices a few things the other cops or detectives didn’t, (the first point I made about being observant), but he also draws connections.
For instance, the woman was hit on the back of her head, but is lying in such a way that she’s on her back with her legs in front of her; that means the body was staged; also, the pictures around the room show the couple as being very happy, and a brand-new box was in the driveway. This detective saw the coding on the label as he walked in, and knows it’s from a baby supply store.
The couple doesn’t have a baby in any of the pictures, they look happy, and they ordered a crib; since the body has also been staged, this detective deduces it’s not actually the husband who struck her, because he loved her and was excited to have a child with her, since it’s his name on the box.
“But, how do we know the husband didn’t move the body?” – asks one of the cops.
At this point, the deductive detective goes into a litany about the tiny observations and what they mean… why a husband who loves his wife would typically close the eyes, even if he killed her in a rage, or how the indentations on the floor indicate the killer had shoes on, when most couples don’t wear shoes in their bed room.
This is the really fun part of most detectives, because their ability to reason is what sets them apart from the other investigators.
Is a bit competitive… they like to win, solve the case, catch the bad guy, etc. They probably have trouble letting things go, too.
A good detective is a bit of a bloodhound: once they get the scent of a mystery, they don’t really like letting it go until they’ve figured everything out or caught the bad guy.
They may come from very different walks of life, and the circumstances of how they are pulled into the case may vary, but typically, a good detective is persistent, even in the face of adversity.
In my example of the dead woman, it’s usually the part where the lead detective shows up and yells, “You’re off this case!” to our hero… but we know the hero isn’t going to drop it.
Methodical
This is one gets overlooked a bit, but is actually key to writing a good detective. They need to be WRONG somewhere in the story.
That’s actually VERY OKAY, because a good detective should be eliminating possibilities when they aren’t able to magically deduce the right answer.
Not every detective is Sherlock Holmes; some of the best detectives are the best in their perspective stories because they’re very good at finding what didn’t happen and crossing it off the list until they narrow it down to what DID happen.
I worked on the show Bosch, and HIGHLY recommend the first season for exactly this type of detective work. It’s not fast, it’s not easy, but man… you really appreciate the detective who does the WORK.
And lastly… they have some style! Though this point is strictly about fiction.
I’m not talking talking about fashion, (although you can throw that in, if you want!)
No… I’m talking about “style”. The character pops off the page against all the other characters because they have some bold choices in their character creation.
Usually this is in their attitude, their temperament, and their skills, but it can also be personal flairs and touches as well.
In a good detective story, all their attributes are brought together and showcased as they move forward through the case.
I love “Miss Congeniality”, because despite being a comedy, Agent Hart is, at the center of her character, a detective/investigator. She’s trying to catch a bad guy, and the story uses ALL of her talents and abilities to crack the case… including talents she didn’t even know she had.
For characters like Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poirot, Jessica Jones, heck… even Wadsworth from “Clue”… their ‘style’ makes them all wildly different from each other as characters. They have wildly different weaknesses, strengths, habits, idiosyncrasies, and desires, yet they’re all great investigators.
As a writer, I think that’s important. Even if there’s crossover in skills, a good detective should have some personality, some flair, something that makes them unique and real to the universe they inhabit.
TL;DR:
Observant
Logical
Uses deductive reasoning
Is a bit competitive/likes to win/solve the case
Methodical
And has some Style
You can play with these, but overall, a good detective character should have a combination of these. You can play with their strengths and weaknesses and why or how they have they skills they do, but overall a good detective is going to need to crack the case, so they need to be written with the skills to do it.
Let’s break this into two parts: the story/plot first, and then we’ll talk about the quality second.
PART ONE: The Story
(The Good)
“The movies are about how Leia – I mean, who else is going to be the leader? – is trying to rebuild the Republic… Luke is trying to restart the Jedi.”[1]
“Darth Maul trained a girl, Darth Talon, who was in the comic books, as his apprentice. She was the new Darth Vader and most of the action was with her. So, these were the two main villains of the trilogy.”[2]
Really quickly, I think this is a very nice outline, even though it is brief. The story would be set with two very clear goals in mind: Leia building the Republic, and Luke building the Jedi.
THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT FANS WANTED.
Sadly, the plans for this got put to the wayside due to real life concerns for Lucas and eventually, everyone got a bit too old to make this into a reality.
Regardless, whatever George Lucas’ faults are as a director of actors and as a dialogue writer, he does at least understand how to sink his teeth into juicy ideas for a sequel. In this case, Luke and Leia’s journey is a continuation of where they left off after Return of the Jedi; it paints both characters in a positive light and even though conflict would be inevitable, it would at least be true to the movies that came before and the characters.
As a bonus, there was already a clear outline for a villain: Darth Talon. Lucas even had a rough idea for her origin.
(The Bad)
The catch is that it’s more of the same Jedi/Sith conflict we’ve already seen in six films. Now if it’s done well, I don’t think it’s that big of a problem, but after having played Star Wars: The Old Republic for years, I can safely say there are a lot of great ideas for problems in the Star Wars universe that don’t have to revolve around the Sith that can still have all of our favorite Star Wars elements. Secret Cabals pulling strings behind the scenes, programs designed to make artificial warriors, (like Powerguards) that can stand against Force users, or even Eldritch style abominations like the Terror From Beyond.
My only criticism of Lucas is that he believes in refrains, which means he may repeat himself a bit in his films. I think a little collaboration does him a world of good, and if Disney made one major mistake, it was not using Lucas’ notes and maybe a fresh writer collaboration such as Drew Karpyshyn/Timothy Zahn with a really good scriptwriter to bring it all to life.
PART TWO: Quality
(The Good)
George Lucas knows how to make a damn film! Even the prequels, with their faults, are still well crafted from a technical standpoint. He uses every tool in the book, and then creates NEW ONES just to tell the story he wants to tell. There are few, (VERY FEW) who have ever even attempted to come close to matching his work, and that’s typically with vast amounts of money and CGI, cribbing Lucas’ own technology, style, and techniques to do what he pioneered.
I think the sets, costumes, lighting design, hair and makeup, alien designs… with Lucas at the helm, it’s going to be really fantastic.
And the original trilogy was only matched by Lucas himself in the prequels, and finally, almost 30 years later, other franchises have managed to compete, and only one other Star Wars film, (Rogue One) has matched Lucas’ work. There is no doubt Lucas knows has the know-how to craft a fantasy epic; I still think he has put together some of the finest space battles seen on film.
If Lucas had done the sequel trilogy, I think it would be visually and technically right on point as a sequel to his beloved franchise. It would definitely “feel” like Star Wars.
(The Unknown)
The Unknown part to this is whether George Lucas, (after the criticisms of the Prequel Trilogy, the bombing of the CGI Clone Wars Feature Film, and his departure and “hands-off” time from the franchise) affected his work on a new trilogy.
It’s impossible to know if Lucas would have come back to the franchise willing to listen and collaborate more with the talent around him, or if he’s still be as driven to micromanage like he was in the prequels.
One of the reasons the original trilogy worked so well was because George Lucas was forced to collaborate; in Star Wars (A New Hope), he was a young, unknown director and the actors let him have it when they needed to. In Empire, he was fighting a battle with the Director’s Guild of America, and had to hand the directing reigns to his old mentor and leave most of the script up to Lawrence Kasdan. He came back for Jedi, and I actually like Return of the Jedi quite a bit, but the stark reversal in tone (including Ewoks and much more ‘kid’ humor), might have been too much of an over reaction.
So it’s hard to say. I’d like to believe that since Lucas was older now, he may have also gotten wiser, and maybe would have looked to have the majority of the work rest on another director’s shoulders with him supervising both the direction and the script… basically producing and being the creative head while someone else handles the day to day.
He started doing this with Dave Filoni on the Expanded Universe series of The Clone Wars, Star Wars Rebels, and pretty much anything that wasn’t an actual film, so I’d like to believe that as he was growing older, he was learning to trust the next generation a bit more.
This photo from the set of “The Mandalorian” could have been what the sequel trilogy video village looked like: Filoni or another director like Jon Favreau leading the charge with Lucas giving the occasional note.
People change over time, and Lucas changed a lot over the years since the ending of the Prequel Trilogy. He handed so much over to Dave Filoni that Filoni had carte blanche to write whatever he wanted, and Filoni did, even if it went against George’s canon. I think it’s important to remember because people often tend to try to associate Filoni’s visions with Lucas’, and they don’t always gel, because they weren’t supposed to.
”The novels and comic books are other authors’ interpretations of my creation. Sometimes, I tell them what they can and cant do, but I just don’t have the time to read them all. **They’re not my vision of what Star Wars is.”**
– George Lucas 2004
“The terminology of “Expanded Universe” was a careful one; it expanded on the world created in the core stories, but was never officially meant to be Star Wars canon, according to the Maker himself, George Lucas.”
~ Dave Filoni 2017[3]
Still, I think Lucas liked Dave Filoni quite a bit, and I think an older Lucas who is a little more tired about the day-to-day grind might pull an Obi-Wan Kenobi and work with a “Luke Skywalker” who can eventually take his place and be trusted with new ideas.
(The Bad)
Without help or a dose of humility, the bad part of a sequel trilogy would mostly come in the form of dialogue that doesn’t work and micro-managing of performers. Liam Neeson, Ewan McGregor, Natalie Portman, Carrie Fisher, Mark Hamill, and of course, Harrison Ford were all brilliantly talented actors who turned in very questionable performances when Lucas directed them at times because he’s not great with performers.
I’ve known a lot of directors, and the fact is, many directors are clueless on how to talk to an actor about their process, how to work with an actor to get the best performance, how to effectively communicate what they want from a performer, etc. This is Lucas’ Kryptonite.
Left to his own devices, this is pretty much assured to be the weakest aspect of a trilogy he’d helm, IF he hadn’t absorbed and learned his lessons.
CONCLUSIONS:
Sadly, George Lucas sold the rights to Star Wars to Disney, and they have squandered most of what they purchased.
Disney utterly failed to take what could have been a multi-billion dollar money making machine, and instead, chosen to spin Gold into Copper. Lucas remains a grandfather figure, but I call the “Sequel Trilogy” the “Fan-Fiction” trilogy because that’s exactly how it feels: like some cobbled together set of stories pieced together by different writers to rewrite Star Wars in their own image. It is very clear that Disney, (more aptly, Kathleen Kennedy, the head of Lucasfilm) did not want the franchise to have anything to do with Lucas’ visions except rebrand it in her own image.
Had it remained in George Lucas’ hands, I think we could have been assured of a few things:
It would have been technically spectacular
It would have had a positive story direction for Luke, Leia, and Han
It would have had a clear villain right from the start, and finally,
It definitely would have “felt” like Star Wars, because George Lucas created Star Wars; as the original author, he is the authority on what he wanted Star Wars to be.
This entry is going to remove some of the obscurity behind the entity known as Andras the Obscure. I’m sharing this because well, for one, it’s been on my mind a lot recently, and for another, I feel that, potentially, someone may benefit from knowing that they aren’t the only ones out there going through such an experience.
One of the most substantial challenges that I face in my life is dealing with my mental health. Mental health has always been a taboo subject, and in general a lot of pre-determined opinions about mental health have been negative, both in my family and community, much less the nation. As such, a lot of bad decisions, rash actions, and abused substances have led to a horrid spiral of real suffering over the decades for many people as a result.
I’ve had a lot of struggles with my mental health, and retrospection has allowed me to understand that now. The underlying constant anxiety and depression that I’ve had with me all of my life fed into my anger management issues (because, as a male, it’s socially expected to express negative emotions on the canvas of life through the limited palette of anger alone). A fair number of my regrets in life stem from my poorly-handled anger at life’s whims, leading to a whole lot of angst, self-hatred, and some bouts of self-harm. A fair number of my experiences have personally verified Yoda’s teachings that fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, and that hate leads to suffering and the Dark Side. As much as I wanted to be Luke Skywalker as a kid, I’ve realized now that I’ve always been Anakin Skywalker, for what that means.
And to be honest, the fact that I’m here now doesn’t mean that I’ve reached the end of my journey and stumbled across the “lived happily ever after” endgame. I’m still struggling with many of these issues, though therapy and medication are now present to help me tackle my mental health just as medication and exercise help me with my physical health. I know that this is a chronic illness, and I’ve accepted that.
Oddly enough, gaming has both helped me and hindered me in dealing with my mental health. Now I’m not making some damn foolish claim that I couldn’t separate fantasy from reality like a character from that slanderous Mazes and Monsters work. Rather, my limited social skills and anxiety was exacerbated by dealing with the regular drama that is human beings, from having to deal with cliques forming within a group of friends to still feeling ostracized despite having friends, to even having anger management issues because of ego clashes with others. Ultimately, I’d say all of that stress and drama wasn’t worth it, and that I should’ve not let it get to me as much as I did.
I’m bringing all of this up because madness is an element that isn’t really addressed well in many sorts of media, gaming included. Mental health issues have often been treated as a sort of failing of character for an individual, even though others who make that assessment most likely are themselves enduring or coping with mental health issues themselves. In the past, the general spectrum of mental health goes from toughing it out to committal into an institution, with maybe on occasion the overindulgence of substances being recognized as a sort of coping midway point. Anger management issues like mine have been compared to berserker rages, especially by myself. To be fair, the depiction in games mirrored the viewpoint held in life, as flawed and harmful as it is.
For the most part, the gaming industry has recognized the reinforcement of stigmas in its products, and has worked to step away from that in some form or fashion. One of the challenging elements to deal with is “supernatural madness” as often noted in the works dealing with the Cthulhu mythos and similar concepts. In that sense, it’s refined itself as being a sort of biological “divide by zero” conundrum for our minds, crashing all of our systems. Or, in some instances, our awareness and senses are now made aware of this long-present and dreadful element that was invisible to us before now, and still remains invisible to many others. The behavior that the majority witnesses from the now-aware individual may be interpreted as “madness.” It’s like an individual suddenly gaining the ability to see the entire spectrum of electromagnetic radiation, and watching them avoid areas heavy with ionizing radiation that, to our limited senses, seem perfectly fine.
Our media, including our entertainment, reflects the zeitgeist of those creators and audiences. What was acceptable fare in 1920 may not be acceptable, or could even be deemed offensive or myopic, in 2020. This is just as true regarding role-playing games. We’ve had almost fifty years of role-playing games in the spirit of Dungeons & Dragons, and what was made reflects the views and tastes of the times.
I’m objectively talking about the concept of “madness,” and not a clash of viewpoints and beliefs that lead people to label others as “mad.” The real challenge to including it in a game is to depict it but not stigmatize the suffering individual(s) afflicted with it. Furthermore, another key challenge is to distinguish it from real world mental illnesses, especially if there’s a plot point where the afflicted can be permanently “cured” of the affliction. In these circumstances, avoiding disease-based terminology and using curse-based terminology may be better, because the condition can be corrected or eliminated, while mental illness can be treated, though it may still be with the individual(s) for life.
Totally copying behaviors and symptoms of real life mental illnesses wouldn’t be wise for a supernatural affliction of the mind. Also, things like mood swings and the like shouldn’t be reduced by attitudes or comments: as someone near and dear once told me, it’s like equating a single skipped lunch to famine-induced starvation. There is a choice and opportunity to have this supernatural madness manifest in new, different ways. It could be a new form of phobia, especially of something that isn’t encountered in this world. It could be a fear of fear itself, literally. Or perhaps the afflicted individual may obsess about obsession. An instance where a particular element is intensively mirrored by the cursed individual.
Then again, what if some elements typically associated with mental health conditions are actually coming from an exterior source? Perhaps an individual is malignly charmed to sense an illusory reality, and that individual alone. Their actions and behavior to outside observers would be “mad.” Then again, classic elements such as “hearing voices” could actually be spirits, fiends, or actual literal monsters covertly communicating with the individual only. In a fantastic fictional setting, this is all too possible. And even in a moden-day setting like sci-fi or superpowers, there are paranormal abilities that can.
Simply put, there’s ways to avoid perpetuating the stigma of mental illness in game, as well as in other media. The goal is to not denigrate real-world people and real-world experiences. It’s bad enough to have to deal with all of this in some form or fashion in reality, so there’s no reason to include it in our entertainment.
With the D&D Direct announcement of Spelljammer, I find myself at an odd junction as a gamer. I remember the original release of the setting for the 2nd ed. of Advanced Dungeons & Dragons, though I wasn’t as enthralled with it as some as my peers. I think the element that the promotional materials for Spelljammer uses, that retro-80’s spacey futuristic vibe that Guardians of the Galaxy and Thor: Ragnarok (with the cyan & hot pink-infused title cards) perfectly capture the vibe of the setting, which younger generations may get a kick out of and the elder generations have a rueful chuckle.
Perhaps since I am older, the initial corniness of the setting (for me) that pushed me away from it is actually a good thing in its presentation now. It’s not some super-serious and grimdark reboot like that of Battlestar: Galactica, but a tongue-in-cheek mixture and homage of science fantasy of various flavors (along with a hefty dose of the kitchen sink-style of wide cosmos from comics) with a twist of Age of Sail ala the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise. To display an example of the humor and homage present in the game, one just needs to behold a monster released in the free promotional material: the Goon Balloon.
And now, behold the alien from John Carpenter’s 1974 film Dark Star:
Hmm… there’s something familiar to all of this….
This is not a bug; it’s a feature of the setting. The bizarre silliness of it all fits in with the bizarre silliness that’s sorta cool as harnessed in Guardians of the Galaxy, and that’s been rendered into a central feature of the cosmic MCU. And it’s also used as a narrative means to explain how, if a group desired, to have a party of adventurers travel through the Astral Plane from one realm to another, such as from the world of Abeir-Toril from Forgotten Realms to the war-torn world of Krynn from Dragonlance (which also is getting some love through a novel and an adventure).
I’d also argue that it’s a reminder of the possibilities of role-playing games, and the sorts of tropes that can be used or exploited all in the name of fun. And fun is the key element here—it’s meant to entertain and pass the time. This sort of silliness is present throughout gaming, though I think people can willingly forget or ignore that aspect. Having a character running around in a pink bunny costume in an FPS game is the same impulse of silliness, just manifest in a different way.
Also, in the history of D&D, there is an established tradition of scient fiction elements being integrated into fantasy: the cosmic horror of Lovecraftian-style creatures, the crashed spaceship in the module Expedition to the Barrier Peaks, the S.S. Beagle in Mystara/Blackmoor, and the like. Even one of the old CRPG series from the 1980s and 1990s, Might & Magic, has a very science-fiction backstory for its fantasy setting and game, much like Ultima I and Ultima II had a ton of fantasy and science fiction references throughout. (And the Ultima games are spawned from the homebrew game made during the original old D&D “white box” edition of the game, which left everyone customizing the game as they saw fit.)
But these are the fun, good elements from the time. I would argue that Wizards of the Coast is doing their best to perpetuate the positive aspects of the game over its long history while editing out the things that evoke cringe or discomfort because it was deemed “acceptable” in those days of old. It’s not a denial that it was ever there to begin with, but it’s an acknowledgement and a conscious decision to leave such things behind as life and the game move forward.
The Case of Hana & Alice is an anime film starring Yû Aoi as as Tetsuko Arisugawa (Alice) and Anne Suzuki as Hana. The film was written and directed by Shunji Iwai in 2015 and can be watched with French and English subtitles. Upon doing my research for this blog post I discovered this film is actually a prequal to Iwai’s 2004 live action film Hana & Alice. But I believe this anime gem can be a stand-alone film, full of plenty of subtle themes with deeper meanings, interpretations and symbolism for us to explore. I am going to be delving into some of the most significant themes throughout the film. So, without further a due we’ll be taking a deeper look into The Case of Hana and Alice. Please note I have done my best to make this spoiler free!
Let’s start deep in the rabbit hole with a key element to the story’s Big Reveal: Number Four. As a western viewer I thought picking this number was a peculiar choice. Why choose four of something over another number? But as I began to dig into the significance of the number it became crystal clear. In Japan and other east Asian countries the number four is considered unlucky because in their language(s) it sounds terrifyingly similar to the word death. In fact there is even a name for the fear of number four, Tetraphobia. This heightens the mysteriousness featured in The Case of Hana & Alice as the two girls search for answers to expel the sinister unknowns that haunt them and their school. Although this is a more subtle detail to the film’s resolution I think it is a nice touch the creators included it as an extra layer of eeriness to the mystery.
In the film there are mentions of Judas and Amaterasu. My interpretation of the former is that the creators are referencing the biblical story of Judas’s betrayal which arguably is the catalyst that results in the Passion of Christ. I believe the creators included this reference to mirror the depth of emotion and betrayal Hana could have felt. Wallowing in her heartbreak drives her to rash actions the consequences of which leaves her with crippling guilt. Next, we have the Holy Amaterasu who the students at Alice’s new school use to help expel the evil that curses their class. According to my research Amaterasu is the Japanese Sun Goddess, queen of heaven and creation. The sun represents order, purity and justice. I believe her inclusion in the film signifies the rise in superstition. We see in the film Alice’s entire class live in fear of rumours and the supernatural entities that have been layered on top. And with no knowledge of where these rumours originated from and nobody around to verify the truth it is understandable why a group of scared students would invent rituals and pray to deities to protect them. So poor Alice must partake and join in with the madness in order to be accepted by her new peers. The inclusion of these themes seemed random to me at first but now that I have a deeper understanding of what they are and mean I think its clever how Iwai has used them here.
The use of ballet is showcased early on in the film and is definitely the most prominent theme in the story. Not only does the elegance of the dance form create aesthetically beautiful movements and visuals for the anime; I believe it relates to the characters and their journey in an interesting way. I believe ballet could be used by the creators to signify connection and friendship. The reason why I think this is the case is because Alice doesn’t begin to fit in until she starts doing ballet after school. It is said that ballerinas can suggest that you are able to deal with social situations and get along with other people which are skills you need to make friends. This idea is strengthened when Alice and Hana spend more time together. Alice teaches her a few moves and Hana’s curiosity about the dance grows. Ballet is shown to be a bonding experience between the girls and is the basis of their friendship that blossoms in the mid – end of the film. Another source states that ballet requires a dancer to be disciplined and gives them the confidence to move forward. This can be applied to Hana who at the beginning of the film was at a standstill in her life which begins to change once she has clarity, friendship and just lets the past go. She even starts attending ballet classes after school too.
These themes on their own are rather subtle and delicately sprinkled throughout the film – each contributing the overall narrative and meaning of the film. I had two aims with this post. Firstly, for those who have already watched The Case of Hana & Alice, hopefully this article has given you greater insight to some of the deeper meanings and themes explored in this masterpiece. I hope this has also inspired you to take a deeper look at the film and come up with your own interpretations of the film and what it all meant. Secondly, for those who have yet to see the film, I hope reading this article will allow you to get more out of your first watch keeping the themes I have described in mind. It can seem a bit random and odd first time around but as I have shown they’re far from it. Let me know in the comments below what your interpretations are, if you agree with me or feel I’ve missed some out.
There are many topics that I think are worth discussion but present a plethora of issues in discussing them properly. These issues are either timeless or very timely in their form, but in either case discussing them threatens unrestrained passionate responses in return, and dramatic conflict and stances as a result, with the attempted points of discussion cast aside in the process.
However, one thing I think is important is identifying these potential hot-button issues from the get-go, so that they can be addressed respectfully and considerately in the best means and format possible for each group addressing them. This is a complex matter in its own right, because what exactly constitutes “right” for all involved can vary greatly. The selection of objective criteria can, in some ways, devolve into a subjective process that undermines the objective intent of those criteria in the first place.
What I am going to discuss in this post is intended as brainstorming and not as authoritative answers to particular variables. Any answers you want should be created by you, for your use, in your particular situation.
Diversity, in my opinion, is a wonderful and natural thing. It’s multilateral respect for and acceptance of difference. It is also, for what it is, not the innate way of things currently. Diversity can help to counter factionalism, the “us vs. them” mindset all too common throughout existence, and which has been based upon serious and ludicrous factors.
Our fictional creations reflect the issues of our real world, and including diversity in fictional works has been a bit of a controversial issue. In many cases, those who’ve endured the negatives of factionalism through one or many of the multiple -isms of life can see echoes of those harms in the fantastic creations of others. The Otherization of certain groups echoes the historical or contemporary experiences of their own group or other groups.
The tricky element regarding role-playing games is that it is a communal activity—it involves multiple individuals, rather than just a single player or consumer interacting with a product by a creator or author. Some participants may immerse themselves in the game and “take it seriously” while others just mess around to have fun or let off stress, though that could inadvertently stress or annoy others in the process. This is something that needs to be addressed ahead of time, so that everyone involved can have fun, and not just a few at the expense of others.
I mention this because such attitudes and expectations of what a game or setting “is” or “is supposed to be like” can impact enjoyment just as much as whether someone is “taking the game too seriously” or not. If a player’s character treats all orcs as evil, but such belief is not valid in the game and setting presented, then where is the fault? Is it the player in question, who acted on an assumption? Is it the game master who didn’t clarify that such assumptions weren’t accurate for the game being run? Is it both of them?
Consider the myriad elements of identity possible for human beings of Earth to have, and how those things may be accepted or rejected by various societies for various reasons: appearance; belief; culture; ability; language; handedness; desire; status; caste; interest; region; etc. Now, multiply that level of complexity by the number of non-human beings that could exist in a fantastic setting. It gets to be a bit overwhelming and mind-boggling, to say the least.
But, also consider the factors present in that setting that are not present in our setting at all: magic, for example in a fantasy setting, or gene-editing, splicing and cloning in a science-fiction one. Then, ask yourself a serious question, with a relevant follow-up question:
If one could, would one use the unique resources available in that make-believe world to fulfill a deeply-held desire that individual may have? If not, then why not?
So, let us imagine that, in a fantasy world, an individual born male wishes to become female. And, within said fantasy world, there are magics that can fulfill that wish. Would the individual in question take that option? Let’s assume there’s no Faustian bargain attached to it or anything of the like—the offer/opportunity is there, and needs only be taken. What happens next?
In a similar vein, in a science-fiction/science-fantasy world, an individual who is quadroplegic desires to be able to join in activities like anyone else. How does the individual do this? Does the individual obtain unique devices and equipment to be capable of some of the demands while in their original body? Or, does the individual pursue other options possible with the advanced technology of that setting, such as transplanting their brain into a cybernetic body or a cloned body, or using remote-controlled systems to participate while staying safely away from danger, and the like? Once again, what happens next?
If either character accepts the offer and changes to their desired new form, who’s to know their past in the first place, unless they themselves disclose it to another? Yet, if either character rejects the offer and remains in their current form, yet still have their desires, then consider why the character made that choice. Are those individuals trying to prove something to others or themselves? Is there a reason why they chose not to pursue that option?
The reason why I pose these questions in this light is because we have to regard how the world at large may or may not consider those who do not conform to what that majority of others considers as “average” or “acceptable.” With the science-fiction example cited above, why would there need to be accessibility options for people when there are means to provide or restore fully-functional ability to those individuals in the first place?
This is one of the most difficult things that anyone can face: enabled and enforced conformity. A means for everyone to “fit in” and be provided for in a standard way, with no need whatsoever to modify or accommodate those who are different from what a society at large considers “standard” or “average.” Some individuals may understand why accommodation is important for some individuals while others may not. Some individuals with particular aspects may desire to change in order to “conform,” while others may accept who they are and ask that things change to “conform” to them rather than them changing themselves to “conform” to things.
I bring this up because I can, in my own way, understand the difficulties of not being considered, much less being regarded as the one to change in order to fit in rather than making changes to make things easier for me to participate in. My personal example is rather minor in the grand view of things, but it has affected me throughout my life and affected what I got involved in or invested my time in.
I am left-handed. If you think it’s not a big deal, then I challenge you to use your non-dominant hand only for a week straight, using ergonomic devices that are ill-suited to that orientation. I can’t tell you how frustrating it is using safety scissors as a kid that failed to cut paper properly since the blades were pushed apart rather than pushed together by the very action of using them to cut. Or handwriting or drawing pages of material with constant smears or stains of ink or graphite covering the bottom of my hand because the left-to-right writing method winds up dragging my hand across the freshly-marked page constantly.
Since there’s only 10% or so of the population that is left-handed, I face cost increases for trying to find items ergonomically designed for me, whether it’s scissors or electric guitars. While typing on a QWERTY keyboard is easy for me, an “ergonomic” one isn’t with my typing style, and playing piano is a thwarted interest because the very hand I’d be more likely to instinctively use to play free notes is instead relegated to playing chords while my clumsy non-dominant hand tries to hastily and accurately hit a flurry of notes while trying to stay in time.
Being a left-handed person in a right-handed world has been quite an experience for me. Regardless of any other attributes I have that could make me feel like an outsider, being left-handed has been a big one for me. In many cases, I have been made to feel by others that my left-handedness was a handicap to overcome instead of just a different sort of normal. Even looking at language, customs, and beliefs, my sinister trait makes me seem gauche in comparison with the right way to do things.
I remember how it felt to see someone who represented me, and it was rewarding. Oftentimes left-handedness was associated with evil, and actually having a left-handed hero made it easier for me to see myself in such a role. Whether it was having an action figure who could hold their main accessory in their left hand, or having a hero regularly depicted as left-handed, it made a world of difference to me.
So, I get it. And, on a related note, going back to the “would you change if you could” scenarios I posted above: I would not change via magic or super-science to become right-handed. I may consider ambidexterity, but I would still see myself as and be left-hand dominant. It’s the one part of my identity that I really feel the strongest about. I dislike the negative-left language bias in English as in other languages, and I actively try to avoid it the best I can, though it can be hard at times.
(Even when I try to use “correct” instead of “right” as a response, I’m still using a word that, at its roots, essentially means “right” direction-wise. Very frustrating, to say the least.)
However, I am aware that what is best suited for me and my preferences isn’t what best works for many more people other than me. I am aware that I do have to adapt to fit in or keep pace, even though I may feel at times that it’s unfair that I have to. That is the greatest challenge in any of this: to respect every individual, whether they conform to a particular set of “majority” traits or not.
I bring this particular can of worms up because diversity in gaming has been a hot-button politicized topic as of late, and gets latched onto like any other human endeavor or creation into the abysmal and toxic culture wars. Diversity isn’t a bad thing, but we don’t deal with the topic well or respectfully. We tend to consider our own stances and vilify any opposition to it, which only perpetuates the cycle of culture wars.
In role-playing games, there can be a myriad number of stories that can be told. However, in many instances, the memorable ones involve solving some sort of problem or overcoming some sort of challenge or threat. Adversity lies at the heart of the game, and whether mild or severe, overcoming said adversity is the goal of the game. With role-playing games, it’s a collaborative rather than competitive effort, so everyone contributes in some form or fashion.
However, part of this massive narrative can derive elements from many real-world incidents or concepts. Though the intent to use or refer to an element may serve as a quick and easy shorthand to communicate a concept with the participants, those elements could still have a harmful aspect that can’t be ignored. For example, Romani stereotypes have frequently been used in the media of the past, and efforts to remove where those appeared is made out of an earnest effort to stop using harmful stereotypes. While some may see this as an erasure of past attitudes and viewpoints that are no longer acceptable, we need to be mindful that these elements are being used in a revisited item that intends to get contemporary participants, rather than be ignored and lost to time with all of its original features intact.
So, how could this element be addressed?
Simply put, I think one way to do so is to inform all involved: the players, usually. Let them know what the game is and isn’t like. Provide a sense of general expectations that are or aren’t accurate: mining dwarves, forest-dwelling elves, militant hobgoblins, etc. Having a clear sense of what is and isn’t typical can help make game play flow smoothly, rather than having chaos ensuing due to personal incorrect assumptions.
If players show hesitancy or express resistance to this, then remind them how they might feel if they were playing a Star Trek campaign using assumptions valid during the Original Series era, except that the game being played is set during the Next Generation era. Or, how they would feel if they were playing a game set in the Eberron setting but players acted like it was like Krynn of the Dragonlance setting. In essence, wouldn’t they prefer to fit in with the setting of the game and the play, rather than intentionally clash and contrast with it and cause disruption? (If they want to cause disruption, then that’s a whole other issue, which I may address in another post. Or not.)
I also bring this topic up because, as I have seen and encountered in the past, sometimes players wish to adopt a role that is different from themselves, but not different from what is possible in reality. In some instances, it’s a male player playing a female character (or vice-versa), or a player adopting a different orientation than their personal one, or even having limitations or issues as a part of their character (such as limited ability or mental health issues). While I can understand the drive to experiment and try to take on the experience of others different from oneself, I am often very nervous about perpetuating stereotypes in such portrayals, or even trivializing a real struggle that people endure. This is not that different from issues regarding actors in respect to the roles they are playing (or should not be playing).
Part of the problem is that such adoption of other identities by individuals (often members of a majority group) has been done in the past by some as a means to mock or reinforce stereotypes espoused by some from said majority group, just as much as some may have adopted that role to provide an “earnest” depiction of those individuals. It can often rest on the razor’s edge of respect and mockery, or humor and derision, and be both and neither all at once, which makes it so infuriatingly annoying to us human beings who prefer simple, instinctive, often binary categorization of ideas and concepts. The removal of the Community episode “Dungeons & Dragons” because of Señor Chang’s drow/dark elf cosplay highlights this well.
A key thing that one should consider is what is your intent on playing someone different than yourself, and if there is anything that you might consider to be “naturally” a part of that character’s behavior that could come into question. Such reflection could serve to prevent instances occurring at the game table, especially with a new group whose expectations and viewpoints you are not aware of.
I think one problematic issue with player behavior in this regard is the failure to regard other individuals’ viewpoints. The defense of “well, I didn’t think it was offensive,” speaks to a lack of awareness of the speaker. Even “I didn’t mean to be offensive” is a problematic statement because it reinforces a lack of forethought about the age-old problem of intent versus effect. If intent was always clearly understood and never misconstrued, then the effect of that behavior would always yield the same expected reactions and behavior. But, as anyone who’s gotten into an argument over a misread text or misunderstood discussion can verify, what the effect of a message is compared to what the intent of the message was are two different things.
And getting down to the blame game of “not getting the message” is never helpful–step back, consider what occurred, note how it can be avoided next time, and move on. Obsessing about a miscommunication isn’t helpful, if it’s an innocent miscommunication. If it is something greater, then by all means address it to correct it, and not go ballistic in an effort to punish a transgression—if anything, it serves to alienate, chill expression, or even reinforce the very thing that you’re trying to stop in the first place.
Journeys Through the Radiant Citadel, a pending release from Wizards of the Coast, will add to diversity, showcasing the possibilities of Dungeons & Dragons through a lens not often utilized in past editions of the game (at least through an official publication, of course). While the tropes and trappings of a fantastical pseudo-Europe are common for fantasy, as exemplified by Lord of the Rings, Game of Thrones, Dungeons and Dragons, Warcraft and other prominent works, it is most certainly not the only possibilities viable. I’ve already pre-ordered a copy of the work, and I’m very interested to see what it adds to the game.
And that’s the thing—this is all about adding things. The more the merrier, I’d say.
After making a joke about Jada Smith’s haircut and saying she was prepping for “G.I. Jane 2”, Will Smith walked up onto the stage and hit the performer right in the face.
“Oh wow, wow. Will Smith just smacked the sh** outta me,” Rock announced to the crowd. Will Smith yelled the words, “Keep my wife’s name out your f***ing mouth!”, twice.
I honestly don’t know where to start with this.
I may have to update this later if charges are filed, (you can file within six-months), but tonight, Chris Rock’s loved ones saw him take a blow to the face in front the elite of Hollywood and no one lifted a finger in his defense. Worse, the Oscars are recorded and filmed in front of millions of people; and millions more, (like me) will see this clip replayed multiple times. And it will never completely go away. If you’ve never been hit in the face and felt the shock, or the helplessness of someone hurting you and everyone just ignoring it, then keep that in mind as you watch the clip.
I wasn’t watching the Oscar’s tonight, and I think the decline in viewership means most everyone else wasn’t either. But everyone’s going to be talking about them for a while now because this is big news. I’m sure this photo and the video of Will Smith walking about onto a stage in front of crowd, televised audience, family and God, and “smacking the shit” out of Chris Rock, (Rock’s words), will be all over the news for the next week. At least. It’s not just the slap, but that Will wasn’t arrested AND he stayed to win an Oscar later in the evening! At best, Denzel Washington and Tyler Perry went over to Will to talk to him, but that’s pretty far off from should of happened, or would have happened if this wasn’t Will Smith.
Let’s cover some basics:
California Penal Code Section 242 PC: Battery 1. Definition and Elements of the Crime
Battery under California Penal Code Section 242 PC is a frequently-filed criminal offense that involves any intentional and unlawful physical contact on another person. Battery is often discussed in connection with the offense of assault under California Penal Code Section 240 PC, however these are two separate crimes composed of their own individual elements.
To prove a charge of battery, a prosecutor must be able to establish the following elements:
- The defendant intentionally and unlawfully touched another person in a harmful or offensive manner.
- AND the defendant did not act in self defense, in defense of someone else, or while reasonably disciplining a child.
The slightest touch can be enough to satisfy the battery statute, if it is done in a rude or angry manner. Making any contact with a person, even if it is just through his or her clothing, is also enough to violate the statute. The touch in question does not have to cause pain or injury. In addition, the physical contact can be made on something closely connected to a person. For example, if a person is holding an object or riding a bicycle and another person strikes the object or the bicycle, that person could be charged with battery in both incidents because of the close connection between the physical object and the other person.
Pretty cut and dry: what Will did was definitely assault. Just watch a video of it and listen to the crowd get incredibly silent and uncomfortable the moment they realize it’s real and not staged.
But this is also going to be the first sticking point: defining “defense of someone else”, because the first headache in all this was that he didn’t like Chris Rock’s joke about Jada looking like she’s filming the next “G.I. Jane” due to her short haircut. Depending on who you talk to, that could be defined as an assault, or hate speech, etc. I certainly don’t believe that it meets the standard to be called “Hate Speech” or “Assault”, but that’s going to be one of the big debates over the next few weeks, because if you believe that it’s just a joke, then Will was way out of line. If Rock’s joke IS considered hate speech or assault, then Will’s act becomes defense of someone else. Expect this to be hotly debated over the next few weeks. Personally, I think that justification is thin; as a performer, he knows what it means to be on stage; as a human being, he knows about violence and the right and wrong ways to use it.
Now, for the Academy: I couldn’t find a specific rule, but I did find a quote from 2017 during the Weinstien scandal.
For this we need to go back to 2017, when the organization made a clear stance against misconduct after the industry sex abuse scandal. AMPAS CEO Dawn Hudson wrote to members via Variety:
“Academy membership is a privilege offered to only a select few within the global community of filmmakers,”
“In addition to achieving excellence in the field of motion picture arts and sciences, members must also behave ethically by upholding the Academy’s values of respect for human dignity, inclusion, and a supportive environment that fosters creativity,“ she continued.
“There is no place in the Academy for people who abuse their status, power or influence in a manner that violates recognized standards of decency. The Academy is categorically opposed to any form of abuse, harassment or discrimination on the basis of gender, sexual orientation, race, ethnicity, disability, age, religion, or nationality. The Board of Governors believes that these standards are essential to the Academy’s mission and reflective of our values.”
Walking up during the Oscars, the most visible and public moment the Academy has, and smacking the host on live television very likely violates “recognized standards of decency”. Up until now, streakers on stage and bad chemistry between hosts were the weirdest things to happen on stage. (5 of the Weirdest Things to Ever Happen at the Oscars (cheatsheet.com) Now we’re in a whole new territory.
We also come to problem two: no one came to Chris Rock’s aid when this happened. No one filed a police report, and even knowing that Will Smith was a winner later in the night, the production team just kept rolling and didn’t appear to change their night in any way. The Academy is in a “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” spot with this. By not acting against Will, it can be seen that because Will Smith is a powerful figure who just brought more attention to the Oscars then they’ve had in two years, and that they are still awarding a guy who is brazen enough to attack another member on public TV. If they do remove Will from the Academy or sanction him somehow, they’ll still be hit with the question of why they didn’t immediately act and why they still handed him an Oscar that night. If they continue to do nothing, it looks as though they don’t care, and if they do something, they’ll be judged that it was too much or not enough.
Where do I sit on this?I’m shocked he wasn’t arrested the second he got back to his chair. Chris Rock is a comedian, and this was an award show for performers who understand the nature of comedy and acting. Will Smith has been in the game for decades and has certainly joked and roasted others before. There is no excuse; this isn’t the 1800’s where they’ll be pistols at dawn to demand satisfaction, or the Wild West where we punch and shoot our way to justice. I completely understand Will’s desire to guard his wife’s feelings, but this wasn’t somebody’s backyard barbecue, or a billiard table at the bar, or schoolyard. Everyone walking in that door tonight understands the difference between reality and performance.
To be honest, how this is handled is going to say a lot about Hollywood. Can you imagine if Ryan Reynolds had walked up and done that? Or what would have happened if the host had been Billy Crystal and Will had done that? This wouldn’t have been right if it was two white guys, two Asian guys, two green aliens or any combination you could put together. At some point, we have to recognize human decency and where we cross the line. Will definitely crossed that line. This isn’t about race, but it might end up being about power if Will squeaks by with no punishment.
Here’s the question: “If this hadn’t been Will Smith, would this have gone differently?” I think the answer is actually yes; I think the only reason he wasn’t immediately approached by cops afterwards is because he’s a mega celebrity. He’s in the AAA tier. Because it was Will Smith at the Oscars, no one there knew how to handle it, even though the process was probably crystal clear.
Did Chris Rock cross a line, first? Did he “deserve” it?– No.
I’m not an expert on victim blaming. But I am familiar with the Oscars, and when they’ve had comedians host, part of the joking can occasionally be roasting the audience sitting in front of them. Even if this wasn’t a group of performers who were sitting there, would an audience member in a comedy club coming up to the stage and smacking the comedian be acceptable? No. So why would this be acceptable here? Part of Chris Rock’s job as host is to entertain; there is an understanding between performers and the audience. Will and Jada didn’t like the joke; I get that. Was it in bad taste? I don’t think so, but that doesn’t really matter: there are times and places you can let performers know that what they said hurt you. Walking up on stage and hitting the performer isn’t it.
What exactly is a “broken” power in fiction? I’ve talked about this a bit when we talk about Mary Stu’s and Gary Stu’s, but I think it helps just to tackle this by itself, because sometimes, characters are thought to be “broken” due to their powers, but may have other limitations that keep them grounded as characters. Other times, a broken power can kill the fun of the story. So how do we define this?
I define it the same way I look at a Mary Sue or Gary Stu: if the universe entirely bends around the powers of the character, so much that it breaking the rules of the setting the story is taking place in, the power is (probably) broken.
I think the best examples are usually found in Isekai Anime, which launches a lot of their stories with the premise that the hero is ‘breaking’ the rules of that new world with whatever power they have.
In the Land of Leadale
Wise Man’s Grandchild
(Not all Isekai have lead character with broken powers. Some can be very, very good. But that said, it’s a subgenre that has a very high amount of stories that feature broken powers per capita. I don’t want you to think I’m just picking these anime.)
Let’s go a bit further. Every story has to rely on the basics: plot, setting, and character. Within the setting, there usually needs to be a set of rules on how that universe works. That goes double for works that include a system of ‘magic’, even if that magic is sci-fi based. Whatever ‘empowers’ your characters in your setting, whether it’s technology, psionics, magic, alien biology, mutant powers, or divinity, for the writer, there needs to be a set of rules in place for how they work. The audience may not need to know all of them, but anything you establish needs to have parameters for how it works, and normal parameters can be pushed, ignored, or broken, and what circumstances create each condition.
Brandon Sanderson, who finished writing “The Wheel of Time” series after Robert Jordan’s passing and has quite a few books of his own under his belt, has “three laws” that I really like to bring up to help define what we’re talking about.
What Are Sanderson’s Laws Of Magic? | Brandon Sanderson
Sanderson’s First Law of Magics: An author’s ability to solve conflict with magic is DIRECTLY PROPORTIONAL to how well the reader understands said magic.
Sanderson’s Second Law can be written very simply. It goes like this: Limitations > Powers: It isn’t what the heroes can do that is most important to who they are, but what they have trouble doing. (Or what they can’t do.)
The third law is as follows: Expand what you already have before you add something new.
Let’s look at one that follows the rules: Gene Starwind and his caster from Outlaw Star.
Outlaw Star
The series establishes that this weapon let’s people without magic powers cast magic spells. There are conditions set: finding ammo for the gun is rare already, and the more powerful the spell you try to use, the more of your life force it will end up taking to cast the spell.
We see the series stay within the limits: there is a whole episode where Gene has to find ammo for this gun, and it’s an adventure on its own. When he uses them, it nearly kills him, exactly as advertised.
To ‘break’ this power, we would have these same rules in place in the setting of how a caster is SUPPOSED to work, but then have the weapon and the hero using as many shells as they want completely consequence free, defeating every villain with ease because the caster can just crank out spells on demand.
By establishing a set of rules and telling the audience, “this is how this is supposed to work and here are the limits” but then breaking those rules so that device/magic/power doesn’t need to follow any of them, and WORSE, bypasses all the limitations those rules were supposed to put on the character or story breaks a big part of the fiction for the audience.
Star Wars: Rise of Skywalker
A great example of rule breaking: Rey using Force Lightning. It’s been established as a Dark Side power that is only accessed by the evil characters. That’s rule one being broken. Rule two being broken is that she supposedly kill Chewbacca, (a consequence) which is immediately erased not long after.
The logic of the setting had already been established under the original writer for six films on how the Force works; it’s established that using the Force takes training, and using the Dark Side of the Force requires a Dark Side master to teach the advanced techniques, and the most advanced technique we see one use is Force Lightning. For Rey to ‘just use it because she wants to’ breaks that logic completely.
But what about the power itself? How do you define the power as “broken”?
Let’s go back to Isekai.
Wise Man’s Grandchild
Shin in “Wise Man’s Grandchild” lives in a world with magical rules; he constantly breaks them. He can make any spell he wants whenever he really wants to. If there is a stated limit such as, ”one enchantment per item” that no top-tier enchanter can break, he will break that limit effortlessly.
The powers that the character has force the rules of the setting to change around the character.
This isn’t something like breaking the sound barrier, where no one thought it could be done until the math, technology, and skill lined up to do it. What we have here are the laws of magic for that universe being changed by this character’s powers whenever it’s convenient for the character.
“In Another World With My Smartphone” is probably an even better example.
In Another World with My Smartphone
In a world of magic and no high technology, the protagonist dies in our world but gets to pick something to bring with him: he chooses his smartphone, and that ends up being a universe-breaking device in the new world. There is nothing the character can’t accomplish in this new world thanks to this combination.
What’s the result?
It’s a total break of Sanderson’s Second Law. Now, Sanderson will always be the first one to tell you that no law is absolute. But even if demoted to a “rule”, it’s a pretty great rule for storytelling.
The Second Law: Limitations are more important (greater) than the powers.
This is what sets up your characters to be CHALLENGED. This is why determines whether they will struggle to overcome obstacles. And this also determines if they need to grow as a character or dig into their bag of noble attributes like guts, determination, or self-sacrifice to overcome their obstacles.
Fictions with broken powers typically have a busted protagonist that is uninteresting to watch, because they are never actually challenged.
How do you avoid it?
Superman
Saitama/One-Punch Man
Spider-Man
Asta, Black Clover
With characters like Superman, he’s mortal, not perfect, makes mistakes, cares about things like his job and relationships where his powers don’t necessarily help him, and good Superman stories show him struggling in a human way. The rules of the setting limit what he can or can’t do with his powers, give him weaknesses, (like Kryptonite) or conflicts, (like having to keep his word and rescue someone due to a promise, even if that means he can’t rescue someone he loves, like Lois).
Saitama is ungodly powerful, but the world doesn’t just bend down for him. He struggles to get work, he’s instantly loved and respected, and actually has to learn about what it means to be a hero sometimes by the examples of the other, more fragile heroes around him.
Spider-Man’s powers, though amazing, rarely let him profit from it. In most of his stories, it SUCKS to be Spider-Man.
With Asta in Black Clover, he’s a guy with no magic in a setting where EVERYONE has magic and it’s integral to the universe. His power for magic negation would look like a busted power on the surface, but it’s written with a TON of limits. On top of that, the character is shown having to work 50 times as hard as any other character to achieve even moderate results.
These are four really good examples of characters who could have ‘broken’ powers, if the writers hadn’t done such a great job in their stories making sure that the limitations surpassed the powers. Each character struggles; it’s not a physical struggle, (like Saitama and Superman), sometimes it can be a person struggle that puts limits on the character.
TL;DR:
“Broken Powers” usually break the laws of the setting that has been established in their fiction, and they break the setting so hard there is likely no real challenge for the person using those powers.
In the short run, it can be fun to watch someone in an Isekai, for instance, turn the setting on its head. But in the long run, it usually makes for boring characters and stories, because the person using the busted powers is never really in any actual danger, and may not have to grow or change at all to surpass their limits or overcome obstacles.
