Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Summoner 2: Raidou Kuzunoha vs. King Abbadon

Thus far, game discussion on this site has focused solely on Playstation 3 games. Alas, I do not yet have a Playstation 3, so I begin my game-reviweing tenure at Me and Matt on Media with a discussion of a recent PS2 game.

The other Matt often derides Japanese games for being needlessly retrograde, archaic, and generally behind the times. When one looks at the portrayal of Africans in Resident Evil 5 or the fourteen years Capcom went without updating a major character's graphics, my arguments for the continued vitality of Japanese game development start to look pretty weak. Role-playing games often suffer from this kind of stagnation; when Square-Enix announced that Dragon Quest IX would have an action-based battle system instead of the same battle system, more or less, that the original Dragon Quest had in 1986, fans protested so much that Square returned to the old battle system. At least they got rid of random battles - In most Dragon Quest games, you'll walk around an area until, without warning, you find yourself facing monsters on the battle screen. So they got rid of that old design crutch. After twenty-three years.

Given the state of Japanese game development and the bad tendencies of RPG developers, it’s somewhat surprising that some of the best and freshest games I’ve played in the past few years have belonged to one of the oldest and most popular Japanese RPG series, Shin Megami Tensei. I’ll summarize by saying that SMT games generally involve recruiting, summoning, and fusing various “devils” based off figures (not always malign) from various world myths, literatures, and religions. The interpretations of these characters are often a bit strange, and I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that the infamous bondage Angels or the phallic Mara offended someone. And while I may claim that the Meagami Tensei games are fresh, the games often reuse assets, including 3D renders and artwork, from previous games in the series. The demon Leann Sidhe (Gaelic scholars will tell you "Sidhe" sounds something like "Sithi"), for example, has the same character model in Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3, Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 4, and the subject of this review, the epically-named Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Summoner 2: Raidou Kuzunoha vs. King Abbadon.

Unlike most of the SMT games, the Devil Summoner games are action RPGs, meaning that the games mix skill- and reflex-based gameplay elements with more some more leisurely-paced business involving strategy and screens full of Important Numbers. The RPG genre isn't for everyone, and an RPG is much more fun to play than to watch. A "girlfriend game" Devil Summoner 2 is not.

The first Devil Summoner game, Raidou Kuzunoha vs. The Soulless Army, was apparently fairly mediocre, despite the fact that it involved using demons to fight a robotic, time-traveling version of the Russian monk Rasputin in early-twentieth-century Japan. The plot also involves rocketing a talking cat into outer space to destroy a satellite that controls a Soulless God. Doubtless it all makes sense if you play the game. Devil Summoner 2 doesn’t assume you’ve played the first game, which was neither a critical nor a popular success. The plot of King Abbadon is less baroque than Soulless Army’s, but it still has its share of bizarre moments. Once again you play as the devil-summoning detective Raidou Kuzunoha, who wanders about nineteen-twenties’ Tokyo solving supernatural crimes. Though there are scenes of deduction and investigation, this game isn’t really about solving a mystery. It’s about hitting things with swords and magic, not establishing who shot whom in the dining room.

Though Raidou is a silent protagonist, other characters are often overly talkative – There are several plot-recapping “Investigative Meeting” scenes that are quite frustrating, as Our Hero’s companions seem to assume he has zero long-term memory. I was surprised to find that Devil Summoner 2 has no voice acting; it’s been years since I’ve played a console RPG without it. The cutscenes aren’t terribly attractive either; this was not a big-budget game.

Devil Summoner 2, unlike the last two Persona games, includes random battles. Normally I would spend whole paragraphs complaining about this antiquated design choice, this crime against responsible game design, but they actually work well here. The battles load quickly and the “battlefield” you fight in has more room to maneuver in than the areas you explore. I still don’t believe random battles are ideal for any game, but they work well enough here. If anything, the battlefield is too big – the player doesn’t control the battle camera, and your enemies (and allies) will often be off the screen. Still, it's not too much of a problem. For one thing, the game isn't terribly hard, so one doesn't need to always have a perfect grasp of everything happening around Raidou...

The game’s battle system is fairly simple – Raidou can shoot a gun, perform strong or weak sword attacks, use items, block, and roll. The variety in combat comes from your demon allies. You can have two demons “out” and fighting with you at any given time, but there are 158 demons in the game, though you cannot gain all of them in a single playthrough. I would say that the demon acquisition methods are unique, but they’re actually fairly typical for a Megami Tensei game. You can either negotiate with the demons you encounter in battle – almost everything outside of boss fights is recruitable – or fuse two of your older demons together to create something new. While one could theoretically beat the game without fusion, many of the strongest demons are available only to cunning fusers. Plus, fused demons gain skills from their “parent” demons – With a little skill, you can create demons much more powerful and useful than the ones you might find in the “wild.”

I haven’t touched on every aspect of Devil Summoner 2 – I find few things more tedious than the sort of exhaustive, multi-page review IGN specializes in. I’ve barely discussed the plot, nor have I described the wide variety of side quests in the game. Devil Summoner 2 may not be the greatest game ever made, but it’s worth your time if you have an interest in the Action RPG genre. It’s fun, somewhat addictive, and decently long – over twenty hours provided you don’t rush through the game.

While Devil Summoner 2 is a very good game, I’d recommend that anyone who wants to try Shin Megami Tensei and doesn’t mind a turn-based battle system try Persona 3: FES. A reissue with added content, FES is one of the best games on the Playstation 2. It features a long and compelling story (with voice acting), a deep and fast-paced battle system, and great art design. Unlike Devil Summoner 2, FES is an extremely polished game. While it may not have the mass appeal of a GTA, a Metal Gear, or even a Final Fantasy, I think there’s a case to be made that Persona 3: FES is the best game on the PS2.

Because American gamers have no taste, FES did not sell as well as it should have. It’s currently available for $15 on Gamestop clearance. It’s a wonderful game, even if it doesn’t have Rasputin or cats in space. It does have a knife-wielding dog though, and that's something.

A Eulogy for Analog TV (or, Me Preaching to an Empty Church)

It's funny. Analog TV has been dead and gone to a lot of us for some time now. Yet, I have to admit that I feel a bit wistful when I realize that, within the next 48 hours or so, it will cease to exist. It is perfectly possible that you do not even know what analog TV is or why it's going away. It suffices to say that it was what mom and dad watched as kids – it was all they could watch. For decades, in fact, all a television could do was tune into analog, over-the-air broadcasts. Analog TV was what made TV as ubiquitous as it is today, even if it is about to become a mere memory.

As a predictably nerdy kid, I occasionally enjoyed experimenting with TV sets. I would grab the old 13 inch TV from the kitchen, and a dusty set of rabbit ears from the basement, then proceed to tilt them in every conceivable configuration. I was looking for something – signs of life – in the thick haze of the static that pervaded most channels. I knew where I could go for my local, New York City stations – those came in pretty clearly – but I was more interested in the stations I was not supposed to see. I would go where I knew I would not easily find anything, in hopes of getting a glimpse of some bizarre, alien station from places like Connecticut or upstate New York. There was something thrilling about staring into the frantic black and white dots, trying to discern a face, a car or perhaps even a logo that would inform me of the missive's origin.

Little did I know that I was partaking in a well-established hobby, called "DXing." Serious DXers use slightly better equipment and take into account atmospheric conditions that allow them to attain surprising results. (One of the oldest examples of television DXing supposedly came in the 1930's when a group of Long Island broadcast engineers mistakenly got ahold of a British TV signal.) YouTube is full of more contemporary examples, like this one, where a DXer in Springfield, Massachusetts found an Oklahoman signal.

The switch to digital will hardly be the end of TV DXing but it will, in my opinion, take some of the romanticism out of it. Digital TVs do not have static; you simply get the signal or you do not. Cryptic figures amid static will be replaced with a plain, black screen and a blunt "No Signal" notification. Our children, if they ever come into contact with an image of TV static, will have absolutely no idea what it is.

For my entire childhood, my family relied on our house's rooftop antenna for television. It worked well, even if I became more and more bent on getting cable as I grew up. Even when I convinced my dad to pay up for satellite, we still used the antenna for local channels. We only gave up on it when the September 11th attacks obliterated the area's primary broadcasting tower atop the Twin Towers, permanently degrading broadcast reception in the region.

In fact, September 11th must be one of my memories that has the strongest bond to analog TV. For thousands, possibly millions, of New Yorkers, local news reported the first stages of the attack, then fell into horrifying silence as the towers collapsed, bringing all of the major TV stations' signals down with them. For those without cable, it prompted a frantic scramble for smaller stations that were not originating from downtown Manhattan. By the evening, the major stations were leasing time on these smaller stations, in order to get their news reports out to cable-less New Yorkers.

As a fourteen year-old, mere days into my high school career, I once again pulled out my rabbit ears and found myself reaching into the expanding void of static. This time, I was searching for something far more immediate. Vague images of frantic news reporters attempting to describe surreal landscapes of destruction and panic played across my screen. The fascination that I had once enjoyed as a child now gained a marked sense of urgency. Yet, while I had the option of turning to CNN and our recently installed satellite system, I did not prefer it. I did not want the glossed digest of the news that cable provided; I wanted to experience it in all of its grittiness, as I struggled to find a signal and our local reporters struggled through the most harrowing moments of their careers.

It has been eight years since then, and probably just as long since I last experimented with an antenna. Ironically, however, a step up in technology has brought my back to my rabbit ears. Having recently bought an HDTV and all but renounced pay TV (a rant for another day), I now search the skies for digital signals. Amateur DXing hardly remains a hobby for me, but I recently discovered that I can still see those old analog signals. I have left a number of them programmed into my TV, too. In these final hours of life for the connections that were once so vital to Americans, I feel that someone should be seeing them off.

Another set of static-laden videos fill YouTube: Footage of stations' final, analog sign-offs. I find these moments wrenching. I know that it is only TV and I know that the digital signal is one press of the remote away, but as those fuzzy images lurch into thick, unquestionably dead static, I cannot help but feel a sense of loss. Nevertheless, out of a sense of duty, I will be watching on Friday – I will be watching as the faces and voices disappear into the static one, final time.

Yes, Dammit, I Liked the Movie: "Taken"

Taken may be the best bad movie that I have ever seen. This may take some explaining. The script and acting are generally mediocre, the plotline is pandering and the violence meaningless. And did I mention how many clichés the film evokes? Despite being shot in Paris by a Frenchman, the filmmakers managed to work in a gutless Frenchman out of an anti-Vichy propaganda film.

And yet Taken is one of the most satisfying films I have seen in years. The plot is simple: Ex-CIA “preventer” of bad things Bryan Mills (Liam Neeson) has moved back to the United States to get back in touch with his daughter Kim (Maggie Grace), who lives with his ex-wife Lenore (Famke Janssen). Kim goes on a trip to Paris. Kim gets kidnapped. Mills has ninety-six hours in which to shoot, throttle, torture, and beat various Very Bad People to get his daughter back from the sex slavers who have taken her.

The most famous scene in Taken occurs near the beginning of the film. Liam Neeson’s character is talking on the phone to his daughter, who hides under a Parisian bed as a group of kidnappers look for her. The kidnappers find her, and Neeson gives a stirring speech into the phone, a speech that ends with a vow that “I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you.” For the rest of the movie, he does exactly that. Thankfully, Neeson’s speech, featured in all the film’s trailers and on the movie’s poster, is not the coolest portion of the film. Bryan Mills’ vengeance lives up to his vow – In the next seventy minutes, dozens of heartless and nameless criminals get hit by trucks, electrocuted, knifed, shot, and otherwise liquidated.

Taken was not a particularly expensive film to make; the budget was apparently less than $30 million. I think this actually works to the film’s advantage; director Pierre Morel couldn’t go overboard with the explosions and set pieces – though Our Hero at one point claims he would “tear down the Eiffel Tower” (!) to get his daughter back, there aren’t too many buildings collapsing in our hero’s wake. Indeed, I only recall one or two explosions in the entire film, and even those fireworks are fairly small. Instead of burning down half the city with CGI, Taken emphasizes brutal fist- and gun-fights. Though there’s not too much blood, Taken nevertheless feels like a “hard” PG-13. The movie, after all, features, amongst other things, sex slavers, prostitution, drug abuse, torture, and quite a few bullets to heads.

Liam Neeson really makes Taken. He’s lean and gruff enough to be believable as the cunning and brutal killer Bryan Mills, but he’s also a good enough actor to be believable – and even endearing – as a father trying to get back into his daughter’s life. He makes us wince at the faux-pas he makes in civilian life and cheer when he dispatches the bad guys.

A lot has been made of Taken’s resemblance to the TV series 24. Both Taken and 24 feature US government operatives forced to torture, maim, and kill to save their pretty daughters named Kim. Yet Taken’s departures from the 24 formula are what make it so much more enjoyable than the TV show. For one thing, Taken is fast-paced and focused; the film has no equivalent of 24’s tedious side plots (Taken’s Kim never runs into a mountain lion). I don’t think Neeson ever utters that irritating 24 catchphrase “within the hour.” Bryan Mills is also much more efficient than poor Jack Bauer, who never really seems to resolve anything until the last episode of the season. Jack’s enemies tend to escape and initiate new plans; once someone ends up in Mills’ clutches, they are generally as good as dead.

Perhaps the biggest departure from 24, however, is Taken’s lack of moral ambiguity. Mills does some nasty things, to be sure, but he never seems to feel guilt or ambivalence about what he does. He even makes a few morbid jokes as he’s about to torture one of his daughter’s kidnappers. The audience gets to cheer for the violence without ever considering the morality of that violence. There’s one scene where Mills hurts an innocent, it’s true, but the film makes it clear that such injury was a necessary evil and that the person in question will suffer no long-term physical damage.

Spoilers coming up.

I know some critics have praised Taken for its “traditional” values, but there are a few aspects of the movie I think one really must take exception to. For one thing, the hero of the film, though generally likable, is disturbingly cold-hearted at times, most notably when he tortures one of the slavers with electric shocks. Once he gets the information he needs, he turns the electricity back on and walks out of the room while his victim screams. On some level, all revenge movies are built on the audience’s sadistic and vindictive tendencies, but this particular scene was particularly unpleasant.

The other issue I have with Taken involves the hero’s daughter Kim and her ill-fated traveling companion. The daughter, the script reminds us at least twice, is a virgin. Given this is a wish-fulfillment film, Kim stays that way to the end of the film. The daughter’s traveling companion Amanda seems fairly promiscuous; she ends up a dead of a drug overdose. If they hadn’t spent so much time establishing Kim’s virginity, perhaps Amanda’s death wouldn’t have played like an eighties’ slasher film, where anyone horny must die. The whole “Kim, Amanda, and Sex” subplot is by far the most awkward part of the script.

End of spoilers.

As I hope my review has made clear, I had some major issues with Taken. But for all its flaws, I still really liked the movie. It may not change the way you look at cinema or even reinvent action movies, but it is a lot of fun. It’s not an enduring work of art, but it’s a fine piece of craftsmanship.

So, should you see Taken? My advice: Watch the trailer. If it gets you at all pumped, put it at the top of your Netflix queue. There’s a lot more awesome where that came from.

Boldly Going Nowhere Particularly Interesting

Oh, J. J. Abrams. If the sci-fi world is a battlefield, you're packing the biggest Nerf gun in your platoon. Travelling at "warp speed" and "reinvigorating the franchise" with "slam-bang, kick your mother in the face" action, J. J. Abrams' new "Star Trek" is tearing up the box office these days.

I have no idea why.

Do not misunderstand me: The film holds a special place in my heart. Never before has a movie allowed my mind to wander during its climactic final battle. J. J. Abrams has pretty much mastered the mediocre. I found myself caring almost as little in his last attempt, "Mission Impossible III." The man does not patently suck like, say, Michael Bay does but he certainly draws from the same bag of tricks. "Star Trek" is rife with ridiculously elaborate special effects, melodramatic close ups and slick, "How many lens flares can we fit in one shot?" cinematography. Given the popularity of this movie with critics, however, it may be more insidious than Michael Bay's typical shenanigans.

Blame the screenwriters for that. For, where J. J. Abrams is mediocre, Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman are plain dumb. The only real achievement these two have made with "Star Trek" is the impressive feat of convolution that prevents the film from stepping all over the original "Star Trek" universe. Who, though, really gives a shit? If the movie was any good, trekkers would not be in any place to bitch about changing things and, the way things turned out, it seems like the entirety of the plot centers on explaining this continuity loophole. This could explain why the movie felt like little more than a first act. The first two hours are all set up, then (oh yeah) the bad guy falls down a giant tube. That's not a movie; it's a really long commercial for the sequel... that you pay to watch.

The note about the giant tube brings me to my next point: Is this really "Star Trek?" As I was watching a smug pretty-boy getting chased around an ice planet by a giant monster, I genuinely believed that, instead of a "Star Trek" reboot, I was watching the best "Star Wars" prequel yet. As a continuation of the "Star Trek" franchise, however, this movie is as limp as they come. There is not a shred of science to be found here (lots of sparkly production design, but no science). The new Starfleet is not convincing as a military organization for a second, with recruits constantly mouthing off to superiors and hooking up with each other in the elevators. More importantly, there are not any real ideas fueling the film; the writers clearly find hormonal idiocy more interesting than real drama.

The original "Star Trek" series was rife with social commentary. The casting itself made a bold statement about the type of ideas the franchise pursued. The introduction of color television gained a bit of symbolic value as the Enterprise's unabashedly multicultural crew changed the way TV looked. "Star Trek" presented an Earth where our cultures had fully accepted one another, but faced a new challenge: relating to people from other worlds. It was potent stuff and it made the series great. So, what did Kurtzman and Orci do with it? They made Chekov's Russian accent a punchline and they made Sulu do flips while fighting with a ninja sword. Critics seem to love how Uhura has been developed. She used to do little more than look pretty and answer the phones. What about the new and improved Uhura? She runs around in her bra and has heightened "oral sensitivity." My, how far we've come.

That is not to take away from the quality of the cast. Chris Pine makes the snotty, new Captain Kirk far more likable than expected. Zachary Quinto does Spock justice, even if the writers fail to develop him in any compelling way. The rest of the crew admirably emulates their predecessors, despite getting little opportunity to do more. Perhaps they are the reason Paramount has gotten so lucky with this one. (The special effects may have something to do with it, as well.) If Abrams and his lazy writers are replaced for the inevitable sequel (highly unlikely), it may be a worthwhile film. Until then, I think I will wait for the "I Love Lucy" reboot. I hear they are getting Roland Emmerich to do it.

Reboot

Me and Matt on Media has been your one-stop source for entertainment media criticism for months now, but we have realized that we are not reaching the same audience we had hoped. To help this wonderful blog grow, we have brought in a new writer: my good friend, Matt Keeley. He will provide what I consider to be a fresh viewpoint that is much more in tune with what the hip, modern, tech-savvy, 18-24 year old male wants to hear about. He will be reporting on topics that we believe you, our readers, truly care about, such as sports, drinking games and celebrity nipple slips.

Faithful readers, however, need not fear! These topics will be tackled with the same critical, dry wit that you have come love. I can assure you that MaMoM will only become bigger and better with the addition of Matt to our team. So, I invite you all to welcome him and embrace the next incarnation of this wonderful blog.

Peace Out,

Matt