In 2002, a little film entitled “28 Days Later” came out. A British release, the movie featured a main character who wakes up from a coma to find that the world has ended. Everyone but a handful of survivors, it seems, has been infected with the “rage” virus. While this movie drew some criticism from hardcore zombie aficionados, there can be no doubt that “28 Days Later” re-ignited the zombie craze in Hollywood. Ironically, the movie, directed by Oscar-winner Danny Boyle, still remains under the radar of many movie goers.

To understand how groundbreaking this movie was, you have to understand until 2002, zombies had become the objects of ridicule and scorn in pop culture. Numerous parodies depicted zombies as utterly brainless and slow, something easily outrun, outmaneuvered, and outsmarted. The idea of making a zombie movie that was scary was ludicrous. But Boyle made his own zombies threatening by changing a few of the rules in zombie mythology. First, he made them capable of running. Second, he made them highly infectious.

These two new tropes started off a craze that swept across the pop culture landscape. When the highly commercial “Dawn of the Dead” remake hit in 2004, just two years later, it fanned the fire initially started by “28 Days Later”.

Suddenly, zombies were everywhere. They were featured in video games, comics, books, magazines, and even used in slang parlance. Today, with the highly acclaimed comic “The Walking Dead” about to be put into production as a TV series, there is no pop outlet that these creatures have not infected.

Which brings up the question – why? Why have zombies caught on like wildfire? And why now? One possible reason the very world we live in. Our modern society is one of immense and rapid change. As it does, society’s rules change, making our place in the world feel uncertain. Some fear the rapid change so much that to them, it seems like society is breaking down. This is especially true today’s information age.

The zombie apocalypse, then, is a massive catharsis of these terrible fears. It represents the culmination of the ultimate cultural anxiety – that our the very fabric of our society will rip apart, and chaos will reign. Viewed this way, we can see why the zombie apocalypse was so popular an idea in 1968, when “Night of the Living Dead” was released. In that decade, there was tremendous societal upheaval as well, with segregation being outlawed and the sexual revolution in full swing.

Another possible reason that zombie fever has hit our culture may be far more simple than that. It may simply be that it’s a great template for a story. The typical zombie apocalypse narrative is virtually identical to a disaster story. A disparate group of people are thrown into an extraordinary circumstance and must work together to survive. This basic plot structure makes for a great story because it allows characters who normally would never be with each other to interact meaningfully.

Another good example of the same template.

Also, as a horror story, the zombie movie solves one of the fundamental problems that most monster tales have – the big reveal.

Most monster stories feature a build up to the creature at hand, only revealing the object of fear towards the end. However, the creature we see is often never quite as scary as the one depicted on the screen or page. So the final big scare can be disappointing.

Meh.

The zombie story, however, solves this problem right up front by showing you the monster early on. Indeed, it is rare that zombies do not show up in the first act of the narrative. This is because the horror in a zombie story does not come from the monsters themselves, but instead what their very existence means in the greater scheme. Zombies represent the fundamental breakdown of all order in our society. They are the reaping of laws, shelter, food, clothing, and even camaraderie with fellow humans. To live in a zombie apocalypse is to truly be alone in the universe – a horrifying fear to be sure.

Which finally brings us to zombies at Dragon Con. As you might suspect, there tends to be more than one geek in zombie make up at Dragon Con. Zombies are everywhere there. After all, it’s not so hard a costume to develop. You can wear your own clothes. Throw on a little make up and you’re done.

Of course, in an eternal spiral of one-upmanship, many of the zombie costumers at Dragon Con will often try to outdo one another. Some go for extremely “realistic” or gory make up. Others will cleverly blend their zombie guise with another. In past conventions, I’ve seen Zombie Princess Leia, Zombie Iron Man, and Zombie Laura Croft. I have not yet seen a steampunk zombie.

The zombie costumes are a staple now at Dragon Con, and it is simply a sign of the times of these monsters enduring popularity.

[Today's installment is a guest installment - and thank god! These mid-term essays are getting me way behind on my posting. Look for me to play catch-up this weekend!]

So, zombies. Zombies have pervaded every aspect of our current pop culture, from video games, to movies, to comics, to TV shows, to books, and even dance routines on So You Think You Can Dance. If you’re into zombies, you can see dozens of such movies at the video store or while browsing Netflix. The recent offerings of “The Crazies” or “Zombieland” might fill your needs for zombie cinema. You might listen to Alan Alda read “World War Z” while driving in your car, or check the book out from the library.

As Americans understand them, zombies have come to mean creatures who are the animated bodies of the dead. Unlike vampires or ghouls, however, zombies are fairly mindless, reduced to nothing more than the Id. They are purely instinctual creatures who seek to eat. More specifically, these beings seek to eat human flesh. Burgers and fries won’t cut it.

Like most movie monstrosities, the zombies of today are only distant relatives of their mythological ancestors. Historically, zombies come from the voodoo tradition and refers to a living individual whose soul has been captured by a bokur – sort of voodoo version of a warlock. The result of this terrible magic leaves the victim living, but without free will or personality. It’s easy to see why the idea of a zombie so easily captures our imagination. The voodoo zombie is a person whose very identity, mind, and individuality has been stolen – the one thing we prize so highly in this modern age.

The zombies that we all know and love, however, inherited their ghoulish attributes from the movies. The 1932 movie “White Zombie”, starring Bela Legosi, was the first film to feature zombies as slow, brainless, unrelenting antagonists. Zombies then started to appear more and more in popular culture, appearing other films and horror comics. However, it was Caesar Romero’s “Night of the Living Dead” which caused zombies to become truly ensconced as one of America’s favorite movie monsters.

The 1968 horror film broke the mold for horror films in many ways. For one, the movie was filmed in black and white, harkening back to the old creep shows of the 40′s and 50′s. But instead of taking a camp route, the film challenged many of the horror movie tropes of its day, and continues to challenge modern horror conventions. For example, the film’s main character switches in the first quarter of the narrative. It features a strong, intelligent black male as the replacement protagonist. And unlike the horror films of the 50′s, the movie featured scenes of gore, showing zombies gnawing cannibalistically on human flesh. It is also important to note that this is the first time we see the famous zombie apocalypse – a widespread epidemic of the walking dead. Without this film, there might never have been a “Resident Evil” or “Walking Dead” series.

Zombie films enjoyed a redux in the 80′s with the campy “Return of the Dead”. Like many 80′s movies, this film was more of a send up of a famous Hollywood monster, but it kicked off many more zombie parodies, each one seeming to ask, “What’s so scary about a monster than can only shuffle very slowly? We would not see the answer to that question until 2002. The year I declare as being…the Year of the Zombie.

Part 2 to come….

You can’t talk about Alan Moore without discussing what might be considered his magnum opus, the critically-acclaimed graphic novel Watchmen. Set in a version of the 1980s in which superheroes have had a major influence at key moments in history, Watchmen is perhaps the most thorough critique of superhero comics ever produced, featuring a deeply engrossing (and complex) plot, an understated (but nonetheless striking) art style, and rich layers of allusion that reward alert and attentive readers.

Watchmen’s narrative structure is non-linear and lacks a central point of view, constantly shifting from the major characters and moments in history as the plot advances. Many of the flashbacks provide a detailed look at the origins of the various superheroes (or “costumed adventurers” as the story calls them) as well as offering insight into their influence on American (and world) history. Such changes include an American victory in Vietnam and the continued presidency of Richard Nixon into the 1980s (the book subtly hints at Nixon’s involvement in JFK’s death).

Despite these startling changes, Watchmen’s world is still not particularly different from the real 1980s – the threat of nuclear war still looms, and crime and poverty continue to plague mankind. Indeed, in the absence of a clear “super villain,” the book suggests the impotence of hero figures to grapple with larger, societal ills; not even entire teams of costumed adventurers are able to affect lasting social change. On the other hand, the heroes often find themselves navigating some very morally questionable terrain, and more than a few of them are willing to employ brutal methods to accomplish their goals. The reader, much like the ordinary citizens of Watchmen’s world, might well ask, “Who watches the watchmen?”

Indeed, the work reflects deeply on the premise of a “hero,” and the dangers inherent in trusting individuals with so much trust and power. Very few of the main characters resist the temptation to abuse their authority (even when, after the passage of the fictional “Keene Act,” they no longer enjoy the sanction of the government) in order to achieve their desired aims. Even Dan Dreiberg, arguably the most healthy and “normal” heroes in the cast (despite his superhero-themed sexual hangups) crosses the line when he hears about the death of a beloved friend.

The heroes themselves are roughly divided into two groups, one representing the “first generation” of heroes who appeared in the 30s (mirroring the Golden Age of comic books) and their figurative (and in one case, literal) offspring, coming of age in the turbulent 60s and 70s. Though the first generation, largely represented by the clean-cut, all-American Hollis Mason (aka Nite Owl), seem at first glance to embody American optimism and purity, later developments in the story (and excerpts from Mason’s memoir, Behind the Mask) reveal a darker side, including an attempted rape of one hero by another.

Interestingly, only one hero actually has any “super powers” – the others are merely skilled hand-to-hand combatants, though some of them employ additional tools to assist them in their activities. The Comedian, for example, carries a considerable amount of military gear, including guns and knives, and Dan Dreiberg, the second Nite Owl, invents a wide variety of devices, including specialized temperature-resistant costumes and his own private air ship. Doctor Manhattan, the unfortunate victim of a nuclear experiment, develops god-like powers that enable him to teleport, duplicate himself, and re-arrange the atomic composition of anything he wishes, all at a mere thought. This kind of power leads to his gradual estrangement from humanity (represented visually by the shedding of conventional clothing) and a wish to leave Earth behind to explore the rest of the universe.

Perhaps the “breakout character” amongst the cast is Rorschach, the uncompromising (and brutal) vigilante whose philosophy and design are clearly inspired by Steve Ditko characters such as the Question. Rorschach seeks to impose order and meaning on a cruel world by any means necessary, and refuses to accept anything less than a clear assignation of guilt and punishment. Rorschach’s mask reflects his viewpoint: its special fabric contains shifting black blots against a white background – while the arrangement may change, the black never bleeds into the white, leaving no room for shades of gray.

Moore has since lamented that the story (and Rorschach in particular) has been taken as justification to produce “grim, gritty” comics and heroes for their own sake; Watchmen, like the Dark Knight returns, greatly influenced 90s “bad boy” heroes, and contributed to a generally darker take on comics in general (eventually necessitating the publication of Kingdom Come in 1996, largely meant as a repudiation of the dark, cynical trend in comics). In the wake of all of that, it’s easy to dismiss Watchmen at first glance as just another grim take on superheroes, especially if one isn’t aware that Watchmen helped kick off the trend, albeit unintentionally.

The recent film adaptation was passable… it captured the look, tone, and (most impressively) the labyrinthine plot about as well as any film adaptation could, which is no small feat. The problem, though, is that I don’t think the film added anything valuable to the story, and the necessary compression of plot and detail meant losing a lot of the richness and depth that made Watchmen so great in the first place. I’d further add that the Ozymandias’ character seemed mischaracterized in the film, though I’ll refrain from saying more for the sake of those who haven’t read the story yet.

One definite achievement of the film, however, is its opening credits sequence. The montage of scenes depicting the passage of time from the 30s to the 80s (all set to Bob Dylan’s “The Times, They Are A’Changin’”) was absolutely brilliant, and served to sum up the cultural shifts just as well as the graphic novel’s excerpts from Hollis Mason’s memoirs. Its clever updating of historical scenes to reflect the impact of superheroes is both entertaining and superbly expository – a real triumph in cinematic storytelling.

Watchmen is definitely a “must-read” comic, even if only for the passing history lesson that it offers (the anxiety about nuclear war comes across very clearly in the graphic novel, much less so in the film). It might also be rightly called a “must re-read” comic, as multiple passes through the pages will allow readers to pick up on a number of details they missed the first time through. Take, for example, the brilliant layout of one chapter, titled fearful “Symmetry”: the panels are laid out to be symmetrical from the first page of the chapter to the last, including identical beginning and ending images. A subtle visual choice, but extremely clever, and easy to miss the first time through (at least, if you’re a goofball like me).

So, those of you who have read the series: what’s your take? How did you like the film adaptation? What do you think the most important legacy of Watchmen is? Let’s hear!

Alan Moore is one of those writers who consistently produces thoughtful, entertaining, original work. Unfortunately, this work is usually adapted in the worst way possible by movie studios hoping to cash in on the success of his graphic novels. This, in turn, keeps a great many people from ever exploring the truly outstanding source material, much to their intellectual detriment. Today, I’d like to do my own small part to counter-act this effect, and help generate some interest in the works of Moore.

So let’s talk about the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.

The concept itself is strikingly brilliant: near the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th centuries, the British government recruits a variety of “extraordinary” individuals to serve as an all-purpose special operations team. The roster is composed of major characters from British literature of the period, including the Invisible Man, Mina Murray (formerly Mina Harker, wife of Jonathan Harker of Dracula fame), Allan Quartermain, Henry Jekyll/Edward Hyde, and Captain Nemo. Together, they battle against such nefarious figures as Fu Manchu, Professor James Moriarty (“the Napoleon of Crime”), and even invaders from Mars.

The cast (and even minor characters) are a “who’s who” of 19th century literature. In one scene featuring a bunch of young pickpockets, the urchins turn over their earnings to an elderly fellow named “Mr. Dodger,” who comes up with an “artful solution” to an impending moment of danger. Other cameos include a flashback to the death of Sherlock Holmes, an encounter with Dr. Moreau (who is developing biological weapons), a short murder investigation that is aided by French detective C. Auguste Dupin (protagonist of Poe’s “the Purloined Letter” and “Murders in the Rue Morgue”), and even John Carter of Mars. Moore weaves in dozens of subtle references to such characters and their stories, making each volume a treasure trove that rewards attentive readers (my personal favorite is a framed portrait of a previous version of the League, including the Scarlet Pimpernel, Fanny Hill, Natty Bumpo, and Lemuel Gulliver).

Of course, these allusions won’t hold any value for those not familiar with 19th century literature, but they can serve as a wonderful introduction to the richness of the stories that were being written in that period (especially the works of H.G. Wells). I myself was unfamiliar with Allan Quartermain before encountering the series, and I hope to get a chance sometime this summer to dig in to the source material more deeply.

This series has also been an important part of the Neo-Victorian and Steampunk movements that have been gaining steam (I couldn’t resist) in recent years. Moore’s take on Captain Nemo, for example, is that he is a “science pirate” who develops a variety of ingenious technologies to aid him in his domination of the seas in the ever-impressive Nautilus. Indeed, there’s a strong science fiction element to the stories, including everything from airships to alien invaders. The gritty, “dark side of England” that is often explored in Neo-Victorian fiction is also on full display in Moore’s work, which features more than a few gruesome deaths and a fair number of “adult” encounters. The protagonists each have their own dark history, and their “goodness” is often a relative measure against the forces they battle against – a common feature in contemporary film and literature, and an interesting complication to figures from the fictional past.

The less said about the 2003 film, the better – I recall arguing with a friend about whether or not it was the worst movie of the summer, in fact. Suffering from an overly large cast and underwhelming script, the film completely failed to capture the tone of the series or the nature of the characters, transforming a thoughtful, richly-layered narrative into just another Michael Bay-esque mindless action adventure. Though the addition of (and concept for) Dorian Gray was fairly clever, the pointless addition of (and subsequent focus on) Tom Sawyer to the team caused more than enough damage to offset such an innovation.

I firmly recommend Volume I, though Volume II is even richer in its complexity and includes a truly enormous appendix at the end to help flesh out the fantastic world in which the League lives and operates. I haven’t read the Black Dossier or the thus-far-published portions of Volume III yet, but based upon what I’ve seen already, I’m more than willing to vouch for their quality and entertainment value.

What about you, readers? Any other Alan Moore fans out there? Fans of Victorian (or Neo-Victorian) literature? Let’s hear!

Webcomics can be a pretty mixed bunch. A lot of would-be artists meet with initial success thanks to the ease of internet publishing, but when the going gets tough, they can easily lapse into update-less funks. The number of “stranded” webcomics is too vast and tragic to contemplate… let’s leave that aside for now.

I’m very cautious about which new series I’m willing to devote myself to. I can get very invested in stories, and the thought of a series suddenly ending without adequate (or any) resolution frightens me a bit (though perhaps not as much as it used to). I’ve just had my heart broken too many times to want to repeat that process.

We hardly knew ye.

That’s one of the reasons that I’m so glad to see Goblins: Life Through Their Eyes rise to its current level of success and reliability. The artist, who goes by “Thunt,” takes some fairly common tropes and really employs them effectively: his comic is about a small band of goblins who, contrary to popular belief, aren’t evil at all (or even particularly weak). Sure they fight amongst themselves at times, and they certainly have no love for humans, but they are shown to be every bit as intelligent as their counterparts among the other races (who are not themselves always especially bright).

Other common D&D parody elements are fairly common: obvious lampooning of player types (one character is actually NAMED Min-Max, and while he can’t read or even “rhyme on purpose,” he is an incredibly powerful warrior), lampshade hanging related to game mechanics, and so on. What sets this comic apart is its willingness to go into some really dark (and gory) places despite its generally light-hearted tone – a reflection, I think, of the very grim nature of much of the D&D world (at least, back in the day).

The artwork is also fresh and appealing. Thunt has a style all his own, and the way he draws the Goblins is visually striking. I especially like the minor touches that he adds, like the way that their eyes shift to monochromatic orbs (instead of the usual human-like version with pupils) when they are angry or in combat. It’s a subtle touch, and a very effective way to suggest a lingering animal-like quality to these otherwise fairly “civilized” characters.

Thunt is also so brimming with creativity that he can’t keep himself from doing side projects related to the Goblins universe. From time to time, as a method of raising a little more money for the site, he runs a special feature about the adventures of a goblin named “Tempts Fate,” who is bold (and perhaps reckless) but extremely skilled (and lucky). He lays out a series of challenges for Tempts Fate in the first comic, then sets a fundraising goal for each challenge. As each goal is met, Thunt produces an additional comic that shows Tempts successfully overcoming the related obstacle. Recently, he’s also taken to including complex riddles and puzzles for readers to solve before Tempts can successfully continue.

This is perhaps the most innovative feature of Thunt’s work, and it has always met with resounding success, often producing (or exceeding) the grand total fundraising goal almost immediately after he posts the first comic. The adventures of Tempts are also thoroughly hilarious, and allow Thunt to make tangential jokes that would otherwise be difficult to work into the main comic’s story (which is reflected in the main comic’s general lack of D&D-based humor in more recent story arcs).

This comic might be an acquired taste- for some, the early jokes and plot lines may not be fresh enough to hold your interest, and the violence is incredibly intense and graphic whenever it makes an appearance. Still, this is a webcomic with a lot of heart, and even though Thunt tends to be a little late with his regular updates, he does still get them up every week. I hope you all will check it out and give him a try.

Webcomics have come a long way, baby. Scott McCloud would surely wax academic on the whole thing, but I’ll leave that to him (since that’s kind of his “thing” now). What I will say is that I remember a time when there was great controversy over the role that comics on the web was going to play in the “New Media” (which weren’t even the “New Media” back then). Was this going to be the death of newspapers? Should artists be banding together to support each other against exploitation? Would a paying model work?

Not for your typical webcomic artist, no.

Well, a lot of those questions have been answered, and they’ve been answered by the Ur-webcomic, Penny Arcade. PA has been around for over a decade now… which doesn’t really sound so long. But to put it in Internet terms, they’ve been making comics since 1998. Yeah, that’s right, the freaking Stone Age. That’s a long time, but Jerry Holkins and Mike Krahulik (aka Tycho and Gabe) have kept art coming with a devotion to quality (and professionalism) that is a rarity amongst webcomics.

While the main focus of the strip is video games, the pair have touched on a wide variety of subjects, including corporate practices, child birth, and censorship. Indeed, they are well-known for having taken on one of the most annoying jerks to have ever tilted at digital windmills, and have served him up some sweet, sweet pwnage.

But aside from all that, there’s much to love about PA. The dense prose of Tycho’s postings can be a bit much for some readers (though I personally love it), but he brings a razor sharp wit and humor that serve the comic well. Gabe’s art has developed dramatically since the early days, and he constantly pushes the limits of his talent and skill. The two embrace side projects, and have eagerly done longer series of strips that are entirely outside the regular continuity of their comic, such as the popular Lookouts stories.

They’re also good friends with one of my favorite webcomic artists, Scott Kurtz, and their D&D podcasts have been absolutely hilarious to listen to.

The duo’s involvement in the greater gaming world has been nothing short of extraordinary. Their PAX (and recently, PAX East) conventions, with tens of thousands of attendees, are celebrations of gaming and related culture par excellence. Child’s Play, their personal charity, has contributed over 6 million dollars worth of games and toys for sick children, and gone a long way to disproving the myth that gamers are soulless, antisocial monsters. Perhaps the crown jewel of their achievements, however, is in being named among Time’s 100 Most Influential People for the year 2010. That’s right, they’re on the same list as Steve Jobs, Conan O’Brien, and Barack Obama.

They didn't make it on the cover, though. Maybe next year.

The comic isn’t for everybody; if you don’t have at least a passing knowledge of games and gamer culture, you may find yourself scratching your head. Even if you do, you might find it necessary to consult Tycho’s news posts for the necessary context for the comic’s humor. It doesn’t shy away from profanity, either, which has made for some interesting Google image searches to find pics for this piece.

All that aside, Penny Arcade remains (arguably) the single most successful web comic in production, with no discernible end in sight. Their noble hoisting of the banner of geekdom is an inspiration to us all. Godspeed, Gabe and Tycho. You’re f’ing metal.

In the heyday of my youth, one of the best things that a weekend could bring was a trip to Blockbuster video, where, with my hardly-earned allowance, I could rent a video game of my choice to enjoy for a few days. Many of my formative video game years relied on this buffet-style gaming experience (which seems sadly to have fallen by the wayside) to help me develop my gaming tastes. It was during one such experience that I encountered a game that changed the way I thought about video games forever. That game was Ogre Battle.

Released in the early nineties (and named after a Queen song) Ogre Battle was only sold in extremely limited quantities in the US (only 25,000 copies were made for the American SNES). Naturally, this made my life miserable when, after becoming thoroughly addicted to the game, I searched in vain for a copy to purchase for my own.

The game’s premise was that you were taking command of a resistance movement against the tyrannical Empress Zenobia. On the world map, you would select regions to liberate, and then you would deploy your combat squads onto a “battle map,” where they would march forth and liberate towns, fight enemy garrisons, and eventually have a show-down with the local governor, who was usually some flavorful NPC with cool art and dialog.

As your units fought, they could be “upgraded” along different class lines, depending on what types of enemies they fought and what tactics they used. Troops that fought against undead, for example, might become holy enough to become paladins, whereas squads that only attacked wounded or retreating enemies would become ruthless enough to be upgraded to ninjas.

This leveling system (and the sometimes puzzling requirements for upgrading your units) made the system incredibly complex and rich, and forced you to carefully plan and deploy your men for long-term gains. Folks who like micromanaging games would find this to be their dream come true, as you could spend hours mixing and matching different troops (all of whom got their very own names and stats, as well as equipment slots) for maximum effect.

Other gameplay considerations included the search for secret treasures, cities, and temples, as well as some RPG story elements; the player’s interaction with various NPCs, as well as his tactics in battle, would affect not only later plot events, but also his “alignment” and “reputation” scores, which affected his personal unit as well as his ability to interact with NPCs.

Finally, to add some tactical flair, the player could play magical tarot cards to support his squads in battle; this was a nice feature since normally the squads would only follow general tactical commands (“attack the leader,” “attack the strongest unit,” etc.), which could be a little frustrating for players at times.

This reading is for entertainment purposes only. No refunds.

The sheer scope of the campaign map was impressive – almost intimidating – and the ability of players to return to previously cleared maps to recruit NPCs and follow story threads gave the game tremendous depth. Add that to about a dozen different endings based upon the player’s choices in the game, and you ended up with a product that offered enormous replay value.

Naturally, the game spawned some sequels, like Ogre Battle 64 and Tactics Ogre (which also suffered from the strange decision to release it in small numbers in North America), which have been generally well-received. The original is now available for download on the Wii, thank God, meaning that a whole new generation can enjoy this outstanding blend of RPG and strategy.

What do you think, folks? Any Ogre Battle fans? How about other tactical RPGs? Let’s hear!

Part the Seventeenth: Final Fantasy OR The Most Horribly Named Video Game Franchise Ever.

This is barely even the MIDPOINT of the series.

Despite my fun-poking in the title, I must say that I love the Final Fantasy video game series. Few are the video game franchises that have spanned the breadth of time, system, and category as the Final Fantasy series. Think about it – Final Fantasy (hereafter referred to as FF) was first released on the original NES in 1987. Since then the series has appeared on consoles, hand-held systems, PCs and cell phones, plus spawned two movies, two anime series, and two MMOs (one still in production). It started as a classic RPG, but has since reinvented itself many times over. The RPG element is almost always there, but there have also been games in the series with heavy strategy, teamwork, and/or action influences, and even FF characters included in fighting games. Granted, not every title has been high quality (FF Mystic Quest anyone?), but the overall body of work has been nothing short of spectacular.

In its early years, pre-FF7 and the Playstation, the series was only partially released in the US, and numbered incorrectly at that. FF1 was really FF1 – they got that one right. But then the second and third installments of the series were not released in the US, and FF4 got the US title of FF2. Again with the skipping of FF5 and then FF6 was released in the US as FF3. Since then, the non-US titles have been translated, updated, and released onto US systems, but it was not done originally. FF’s heyday started in 1997 with the release of FF7 on the Playstation console, bringing the game into the world of polygons and out of the world of sprites. The franchise has been on fire ever since. “How?” you ask. By reinventing itself time and time again.

Also, every game has to have one of these guys.

There are certain elements of FF that remain constant. There is the general theme of good vs. evil and saving the world, of course, but there are common names for spells and some reoccurring characters and names too. And Chocobos. Other than that, the world is different (almost) every time. Each new FF game is not only its own independent story, but they often introduce new character growth mechanics and game play elements. Despite their numerical markings, there was never a true FF game sequel until the release of FF X-2 in 2003. There have been prequels and sequels to the popular FF7 released since then. The only other sequelish occurrence is that the world of FF12 is the same world of the spinoff FF:Tactics. I believe that it is this fresh look that each new game gives that keeps this series going.

Some common elements in Final Fantasy.

The pinnacle of the series, for me, has been their MMO, which has really stretched the definition of “Final” Fantasy, since an MMO is a game that never really ends. Their first venture into the MMO market was in 2002 with the release of FFXI. It was, for me, a near perfect adaptation of the classic FF game play into a multiplayer experience. In a typical FF game, about 40-50 hours of game play and you are done, unless you want to go and max out characters and such. For FFXI, there have been numerous expansions beyond the original release, each giving hours upon hours of additional storyline and game play. A game that never ends is both good and bad. I believe it is a good value for avid video gamers/fans. Rather than paying $50-$60 every month for a new game to entertain you, you pay the $50-$60 dollars once, and then pay the $15-20 a month for the online game play. If you are a big enough fan of the game, this is great! One must be careful though, because those that have played know how addicting an MMO can be. If you get too wrapped up in it, you can miss out on a lot – not just other fun games, but real life relationships as well. I have thankfully been blessed with enough sense to not fall into that trap myself, but I think every gamer has that MMO friend that is or was obsessed at some point.

So, enough of my chatter. What is your experience with the Final Fantasy series? Love it? Hate it? Is there another long-running series that you are a fan of? Discuss.

Marvel knows how to manage their properties. The huge number of successful film franchises they’ve been able to launch in the past ten years alone is staggering. And of course, we’ve already talked about the incredible opportunities that the Avengers film is going to open up. But I think one of greatest achievements using Marvel characters is the truly superb Marvel: Ultimate Alliance video game series.

Drawing upon the Gauntlet:Legends model of play, Marvel Ultimate Alliance taps into the core appeal of the Avengers comics – namely, a huge roster of everyone’s favorite superheroes, teaming up to fight evil. What could be more fun than sitting down with a group of friends and taking control of your favorite superhero for a super-brawl with the biggest villains in comics?

Keepin' it real in the Marvel 'hood.

Especially appealing is the ability of players to customize their heroes by purchasing/upgrading specific superpowers and costumes, as well as slotting various special items that can be collected along the way. These elements appeal deeply to the RPG geek in me, and offer cool ways to spice up the replay experience by allowing players to combine different teams, powers, and upgrades.

One of my favorite features, however, is the existence of special “teams” – combinations of heroes that either represent pre-existing superhero bands (like the Fantastic Four) or that fit a specific theme (putting the Human Torch, Storm, Iceman, and Thor together, for example, might give you a special “elements” team).

It's clobberin' time!

Though this game was preceded by such similar offerings as X-Men: Legends, I feel that M:UA improves over it in some critical ways. X-Men Legends suffers from… well, let’s face it, being the X-Men. This is not to downplay the mutant team supreme, but when the game came out, Marvel Comics was suffering from a severe case of mutant overload; there were just SO many mutants in the Marvel Universe, it was easy to forget that they were supposed to be a minority. (which helps explain why they subsequently introduced plot elements that wiped out the vast majority of the mutant population). I like the X-Men, but there’s a certain point in their roster where I feel like they’re just adding more mutants for their own sake, without them necessarily being interesting as independent characters (I mean, c’mon: Sunfire? Magma? Lame). M:UA broadens things up nicely by including a HUGE roster of heroes who are not mutant-specific.

Furthermore, M:UA’s plots have been cleverly designed, allowing the players to touch on almost everyone in the entire Marvel Universe – it’s really a treasure trove for fans of the comics all around. I was also impressed by M:UA’s clever integration of both the Civil War and Secret War storylines, though it did hamper gameplay somewhat during some sections (certain heroes became unavailable during certain parts of Civil War because they were… well, FIGHTING each other).

I’ve got a Wii, so my own experience is specific to that console, but I was really impressed with how well M:UA integrated Wii features into the gameplay. Although you could assign special moves to a limited number of (essentially) hotkeys on the controller, you could also trigger them by making certain motions with the Wiimote. Furthermore, certain boss battles required specific motions in specific combinations to successfully damage the bad guys. While the sequel scaled this back considerably, its addition of special combo moves helped to balance this loss, and still made for a satisfying experience.

At its core, though, M:UA is about the vicarious superhero experience. If you’re a fan of comic book heroes, you’ve surely imagined what it would be like to put on the tights and hit the rooftops in search of evildoers. Videogames like M:UA take that daydream and turn it into an awesome romp with your closest friends. And at the end of the day, that’s the best part of being a geek: sharing your obsessions with your buddies!

How about you, audience? What do you think of M:UA, or superhero games in general? Things you’d like to see in the future? Gameplay gripes? Let’s hear!

I recently picked up a book with an interesting hook to it, and I thought it would make an excellent addition to my ongoing series of notes (especially since I still haven’t caught up from the weekend! Ugh!) His Majesty’s Dragon is the first book in the “Temeraire” series, centering around the unexpected companionship between the eponymous character and his handler, (former) Royal Navy Captain William Laurence. Did I mention that Temeraire is a giant flying lizard? No? Okay, maybe I should explain.

During the Napoleonic Wars, England was locked in a bitter struggle against the powerful armies of “the Little Corporal” himself. Changing the dynamic of this nearly global conflict is the use (by both sides) of dragons, ridden by highly-trained (and valued) “aviators.” Though not all of them can breathe fire (some breathe acid, others nothing at all, etc.), they are nonetheless incredibly powerful forces on the battlefield, and the race is on to between England and France to amass superiority in the air.

When Captain Laurence unexpectedly captures a French dragon egg that is ready to hatch, he finds himself in an awkward position: this is a valuable resource for the war effort, but when the dragon finally cracks its way out, someone from his crew must accept the responsibility to allowing the dragon to imprint on him, lest it prove wild an untrainable. Unwilling to subject his men to any risks he himself does not share, Laurence soon finds himself the handler of Temeraire, a precocious and impressive specimen of dragonkind. The two are rushed off to be inducted into the Royal Aerial Corps, and adventure ensues!

Where the series might eventually lead...

Part of what appeals to me about this series so far is that it blends elements of high fantasy and historical fiction in such a creative way. This a series whose premise can essentially be summed up with: “What if the Napoleonic Wars were fought with dragons?” For such a silly-sounding premise, it really works well.

The picture pretty much says it all.

The relationship between Laurence and Temeraire is well-crafted, due at least partly to the very real depth given to the former. Laurence is a navy man through and through and the beginning of the book, and his willingness to sacrifice not only his ship, but also his social standing and hope for a family, makes his bond with Temeraire especially poignant and meaningful (dragons in Europe imprint when they’re very young, and are impossible to train if they aren’t paired with a handler immediately. Thus, their handlers are more or less “conscripted” into the Aerial Corps, and due to its… peculiar reputation, shall we say… become a kind of honored pariah group).

This series has also really done its homework, showing a knowledge of the time period that makes this especially satisfying for people who emphasize the history in their historical fiction. In fact, to some degree I find it preferable to the Aubrey-Maturin series, since it doesn’t play up the dense nautical jargon to the same extreme degrees (though it lacks O’Brien’s hilarious sense of humor).

Furthermore, the audience gets to enjoy exploring the world of dragons alongside Laurence, who, due to being suddenly thrust into the Aerial Corps, must learn a great deal about the species (which has a wide variety of different breeds, some of whom are cultivated quite differently in different cultures) very quickly. The effect is something akin to that of Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings readers while they’re first exploring the worlds of their authors- the wonderment and delight of encountering new and exotic creatures is at full force here.

I also particularly enjoy this because it’s got enough “grounding” in the historical fiction side that it helps the fantasy elements go down nice and smooth. After Robert Jordan, I feel pretty burned out on fantasy series, and have been actively avoiding them (with the exception of excellent Song of Ice and Fire series, though god only knows if that will ever get finished) because I don’t want to develop a negative reaction to the genre. This series is helping me ease back in gradually, and that’s a very precious gift. It’s helped me recapture some of the wonder and joy of exploring a new world for the first time in a long time, and that’s something truly special.

What about you, readers? What fantasy series are you reading these days? Any suggestions? Let’s hear!