All done – well bar three or four films that I’m struggling to find any consumer release for.
I might put a still image next to each movie and a short synopsis/ my own thoughts if I find time but, for now, the list is functionally rather than beautifully complete.
There are a fair few films in there I disagree with but all of the ones I have watched I have enjoyed and there are certainly a lot of gems that wouldn’t get touched in a comparable Channel 4-esque 100-greatest-whatevers-you-must-see-before-you-whatever as voted for by Johnny Obvious.
Pokemon-style Gotta Watch ‘em All fever has gripped the compulsive side of my personality since working on these pages so this week I’ve watched Bonnie and Clyde, Cabaret, The Letter and Orson Welles/ Graham Greene’s delicious The Third Man. It’s obvious to see Halliwell’s bias towards early 20th Century Films – many of those featured were released in the 1930-40s – but that’s OK seeing as no-one really mentions many of those beyond Citizen Kane in current listmania.
It’s a playground debate that may never be settled. On the one hand, pirates wear eye-patches, clutch daggers between their teeth, make irritating floppy-fringed heroes walk planks of wood into the gleaming jaws of sharks and get to drink grog all day. On the other, ninjas make it okay to wear headbands again, get to throw shuriken at enemies’ foreheads and can live in your house undetected for years.
Will it ever be clear which is better? The former is a communal profession: pirates stick together, pillaging and plundering in one boisterous, salty family. The latter is for the solitary worker; the ideal profession for a loner prepared to instantly kill himself in a spray of hara-kiri should he accidentally make the slightest honour-defaming noise.
That both ninjas and pirates are aspirational playground heroes is obvious but in reality you probably wouldn’t make friends with either: take one home for a quick game of Pro Evolution and the moment your back’s turned, they’re either stealthily gutting or noisily seeing to your mum. Being a game all about ninjas, darkness and grudges that can only be settled by shadows and blood stains, Tenchu: Time of the Assassins mercifully focuses your attention on the former: stealth and cuts.
Leslie Halliwell, creator of the most ambitious and comprehensive guide to films, died in 1989. Passionate and informed he was one the most respected film critics of the last century, especially to those of a similarly ruthless critical persuasion. He was responsible for creating and adopting the famously stringent Four Star rating for his eponymous film guide, the first of its kind, which has run yearly since 1965.
By Halliwell’s standard, all films by default receive a zero star rating. Only exceptionally interesting and important films manage to receive a one or two star rating with a tiny handful (just over 1%) of the 23, 000 odd films covered receiving the maximum recommendation of Four Stars.
This marking scheme, which many people disagree with or plain misunderstand, is a way of positively affirming interesting, well-executed and excellent films while damning all other comers with indifference. Ironically, for a scoring system so misunderstood, it makes the most realistic sense compared to all the other non-textual critical ‘scoring’ systems in my mind.
The first of its kind, Halliwell meticulously documented each and every film released worldwide for the book, including under each entry, names and details of the actors, the scriptwriter, director, composer and the year of release while collating any remarkable press cutting or notable rival critics’ words before adding his own critical synopsis for each entry.
It’s something we’ve talked about doing for videogames for a while now – even with publishers – but the crippling work load and sheer drain on time to get that first edition out, plus the fact older games are not freely available at retail, has always provided too big a set of obstacles to overcome.
The Halliwell’s guide was and has been an extraordinary single-minded and coherent critical resource, often imitated but never matched mainly because of the author’s immovably strict reviewing policy and intolerant approach to cinematic mediocrity.
Since 1989 editing of the guide has passed on to John Walker and many fans of Halliwell’s have bemoaned the more lenient and mainstream approach. Nevertheless, Leslie’s work remains intact in each new edition of the Film Guide and, as there seems to be no repository on the internet of that 1% of remarkable films to receive a Halliwell’s Four Star Rating, I decided to collate them here on Chewing Pixels. This is partly because I’m trying to collect/ see each one myself, and partly because many of them are extremely hard to track down, tucked away on compilations or unhelpfully tagged on Amazon.
So I’ve done all the hard work for you.
Even if you disagree with some of the inclusions (if indeed you’ve even heard of them) or, more likely, strongly disagree with many of the ommissions, I urge you to try to see each film on this list; every one is enjoyable and/ or important, even if you don’t agree that it forms the summit of the cinematic canon as Halliwell did.
The list contains links to buy each DVD. Many of these films are currently only available in America, or are out of print, or appear on obscure compilations. Wherever possible I have provided a link to buy the film firstly in Region 2 format, or, if none exists, in Region 1 format, or if none exists, in Pal VHS format etc.
Many of these DVDs can also be rented via Amazon. If you would like to rent DVDs via Amazon then please use the button below.
As usual, there are some interesting points that need debating within the issue. The ‘M for Mature’ videogame rating is too vague in the States; Retailers allegedly don’t enforce ratings at point of sale as stringently as they should and marketing has targeted children younger than the age rating limit of the game it’s promoting in the past.
But, as usual, the important stuff gets muddied and confused by other irrelevant and schismatic factors, not least, as Stewart points out in the clip, that a tough stance on videogame violence is a popular voter-pleasing political riff for anybody of any party. Besides, it’s never as easy shouting at watchdogs as it is suspicious creatives.
Briefly, some facts:
Last year Culture Secretary Tessa Jowell, jointly responsible for the regulation of the videogame industry, summed up the crux of the issue saying: “You wouldn’t let your child watch Texas Chain saw Massacre; you wouldn’t let them go to a strip club, so you shouldn’t let them play and 18-rated game.”
In the UK at least, last year only 1.6% of videogames released receive an 18+ ELSPA rating.
According to the Entertainment Software Association, 92% of parents say that they do monitor the content of interactive games their children play.
However, only 55% actually play a videogame with their child once a month.
Enjoy the clip – it’s fun satire and takes a healthy stab at both sides.
But, sheesh, wouldn’t it be refreshing to hear a sensible and considered US-based discussion of this issue outside of a satirical news round-up?
Despite knowing less about football than you do, I’ve joined one of those online fantasy football games for the World Cup.
The idea is you pick a team of 11 (there are always 11, right?) men (they are always men, right?) from across all the teams competing in the championship. Then, as the matches play out in real life over the next few weeks, each of the chosen players earns points for how
they’ve performed in their games. Finally all the points your individual players have earned are aggregated to make up your team’s total score. The team in your league with the most points wins. Simple.
My friends all know loads about football and were trash-talking before the tournament started – boasting of how their 4-4-2 formation will trounce my 3-4-3 and basically I’ll be lucky to not die of embarrassment because there is literally no way someone that can’t tell his Trinidad from his Tobago could ever do well at something like this.
So, anyway, I’m in first place now, obviously. And I let the computer pick my team. Admittedly, some of the strips like Brazil and England I recognise but lots I don’t. But the reason I’m winning is because just picking the highest goal scorers from the biggest name teams doesn’t always lead to victory: it’s all the other things the players do that swing the win and clinch the tournament.
These character tests, like some kind of terrible vocational horoscope, are usually best run from with eyes and purpose set straight in the opposite direction. But the Jung Typology/ Myers Briggs one seems actually worthwhile, as evidenced by the apparent vast numbers (“2 million people a year”) of major companies making employees take it in order to construct the most efficient teams of differing personalities.
I took the test last week and, reading through the various online portraits of an ENFP was at once amazing, revealing and a little saddening; all reactions hopefully to be followed shortly by motivation.
Lots of things it says about me are true; the one that most sticks out being that I’m good at starting projects and bad at finishing them. OK, so, just like some kind of terrible vocational horoscope, that statement could apply to pretty much anybody anywhere, but with me it really is true. Honest. I’m too distracted, too fired up about whatever scheme that has currently grabbed my mind and too unfaithful with my time to really settle on what I want to do. I guess lots of ENFPs turn out to be freelancers turning their hand to whatever’s their current flavour of the month.
Anyway, this is all a boring, long-winded, cliched, God-awful-blogger-type way to tell you about a new project I’m involved in. Sharp readers may have spotted from the feature production work I’ve been doing for One Life Left recently, I also do/try music.
Truth be known, even that is vastly compartmentalised – all ideas started with good seeds and intentions then most wilted from lack of attention, while I manically run between projects, watering time and waiting for one to really bear fruit.
Needless to say, Knives and Kisses is the one that is currently exciting me the most. Go here and take a look and, if you like what you hear, let’s be myspace friends. I’d like to try and get a 7-inch put out, ideally with someone like Morr Music but that’s pie in the sky and my mixing is mediocre and I worry it’s all a little bit too much like the kind of midi-bedroom-knob-twiddling that 5 million other pasty faced boys across the UK are doing.
That said, I like it and think it’s good enough to tell you about and hopefully the melodies and arrangements might inspire you in some way and you’d get just a little enjoyment out of what I’m determined that won’t just end up as a miserably discarded project. Let me know what you think either below or in the myspace comments.
Also: take the test for free here and see your future!
Even if the game turns out mediocre at best, you have to admire publisher Atlus for repeatedly taking risks in bringing some of the most curious, interesting and leftfield Japanese games to a western audience. Having scored its greatest coup with Strategy-RPG wunderkind Disgaea, bringing Nippon Ichi to a quickly enamoured audience, Atlus has gone on to champion titles such as surgeon ‘em up, Trauma Centre: Under the Knife to become one of the most notable diminutive publishers today.
As you might expect from a company that cherry picks strange Japanese games no other publisher wants to take a chance on, the translations are usually lovingly transposed from the original text with wit and flair and each game has a unique hook to make it stand out from the competition, at least in terms of ideology or execution, if not sales.
Steambot Chronicles is the latest title to fit this bill and, brilliantly, it’s far from mediocre. Originally known as Bumpy Trot (or, more comprehensively, Poncotsu Roman Daikatsugeki Bumpy Trot) in Japan, Atlus, when trying to decide how to rename the game for the West, first settled on “Relaxing Non-Linear Adventure: Be A Bad Guy If You Want”. It’s not a great joke – evidenced by the change to the easier on the oxygen, Steambot Chronicles but it encompasses the game’s primary aspiration: GTA meets Harvest Moon.
Oops- didn’t notice this go up yesterday. It’s pretty heavy going for a Eurogamer review but I don’t care – the dark theorising reflecting my current bed-ridden-with-tonsillitis state of mind.
I’m tired with writing about games this month. Spent, wrung out with few things left to say about them – especially Japanese RPGs – the niche I’ve carved for myself 60% out of necessity (no magazine staff writers have time for them and few freelancers can be bothered) and 40% out of passion (Chrono Trigger, Final Fantasy 6, 7 and Tactics, Disgaea and…). Those percentages were the other way around at one time. At least the other way round.
No more.
I read Alan Moore’s Smax recently and delighted as it displayed all the things that could be possible with the videogame RPG genre. But then I just felt sick. Moore’s confidence and genius playing with the genre highlighted a kind of cultural osmosis of mediocrity I’ve experienced through playing too many of the darn things. Perhaps it’s time to move on.
On a partially unrelated note: An announcement in the next two days. And no, it’s not that I’m set to review Steambot Chronicles next for the EG lot…
er…anyhow. Where were we? Ah! Atelier 2:
It’s rare for a videogame sequel to really screw up. We’re used to secondary-suffixed movies being dull, trite or rubbish having lost narrative momentum, integrity, directorial vision or a big-name star somewhere in-between the first’s poignant ending credits and the second’s dollar-hungry whored conception. But videogames are usually a little different in that, to be a success (providing the first was), gameplay need only be gently tweaked and streamlined and a few simple new features introduced to meet with player expectations.
Unlike film, it’s not even necessary for the videogame sequel’s narrative to synchronise in any way with the first title’s – Final fantasy’s cyclical and ever-successful reinvention of the characterisation wheel proving that players perhaps find primary comfort from familiar videogame mechanisms more than familiar videogame faces. So when a game like Atelier Iris awkwardly trips and breaks its nose at the second hurdle (at least, second in the West) you have to wonder how exactly things went so wrong.
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For those that missed it, the first Atelier Iris delighted with eccentric humour, brilliantly coloured characters, gotta cook ‘em all recipe gathering and gameplay that occasionally poked its head over the parapet of RPG cliché. The internal market economy (you contributed new concoctions to your favourite restaurants and shops to boost their sales and popularity) turned the traditional smash and grab approach to RPG item consumerism on its head, giving us opportunity to put back into a virtual world that which we are so attuned to just taking. And despite the Japanophile’s dream presentation and execution – the kind of universe all pale-faced, anime-guzzling, black and white kanji emblazoned headband-wearing teenage karate students dream in – the appeal ran deep and wide to the marriage of Nippon Ichi’s usual sparkling localisation work and Gust’s original, solid, universally-appealing storytelling.
Review for Joao et al’s Pocketgamer site. Remember that this is meant to be written for people that don’t usually play many games before you start whining about the lack of hardcore detail/ historical context. I don’t do often do fun in reviews: this is me trying. Think generous thoughts.
Usually at Pocket Gamer we like to start our reviews with some gentle pop culture references and maybe sprinkle over some witty, perspicacious observations on how gaming so often mirrors real life. We try to ease you into the cogs of our critical machinations, warmly welcoming and comfortably recognisable on the outside, disarmingly incisive and furiously intellectual on the inside. We’re Stephen Hawking in a Mickey Mouse costume.
With Me & My Katamari (or My Katamari and I as we like to call it, what with having been to school and everything), this is tough. After all, who of us can really identify with the plight of a six-inch high green alien prince, the son of the galaxy-tall King of All Cosmos, as a lead character?
Nor indeed does the game’s premise offer much in the way of common ground experience. After all, even if you’ve holidayed on a tropical island before, it probably wasn’t in the company of a royal family and it almost certainly didn’t result in your having to build new islands with your cousins. And in the unlikely case that it did, then it categorically wasn’t for the purpose of providing homeless animals with somewhere to live.
I mean, even if you are a unique-type of charity worker tirelessly campaigning for furry and abandoned flora and fauna, I doubt your average day requires you to roll a sticky ball around town picking up any of Creation’s debris not nailed to the floor until your ball of life’s refuse is tall and wide enough to be plunked into the ocean as impromptu sheltered housing for estranged mammals.
So cut me some slack here and let’s get on with it, okay?
All done – well bar three or four films that I’m struggling to find any consumer release for. 
Pokemon-style Gotta Watch ‘em All fever has gripped the compulsive side of my personality since working on these pages so this week I’ve watched Bonnie and Clyde, Cabaret, The Letter and Orson Welles/ Graham Greene’s delicious The Third Man. It’s obvious to see Halliwell’s bias towards early 20th Century Films – many of those featured were released in the 1930-40s – but that’s OK seeing as no-one really mentions many of those beyond Citizen Kane in current listmania.
