Tuesday, 14 March 2023

Games of the Abstract: Frog Fractions (2012)

 


Developer: Twinbeard Studios

Publisher: Twinbeard Studios

One Player

Flash / Windows

 

[Huge Spoiler Warning: The point of Frog Fractions is as much pure surprise from what you progress to. This review will include full spoilers, so play this game first if you wish to still have this surprise; thankfully, this is a game you can play with ease on PCs.]

Frog Fractions is more of an interactive farce in what was originally a flash animated game format. Its creator Jim Stormdancer, after a series of older games he developed created an absurd jaunt through genres, with no game-overs but only having to figure out how to progress. Contrary to its title, it is not edutainment, merely under the veneer of mathematics education where, at a pond, our titular frog has to gulp up insects with his tongue to prevent them eating his fruit; the score is kept in mathematical fractions. The joke something is amiss is found before you even leave the lily pad, in how when you unlock new tools, you can turn on and off lock on technology to the point an over-extended arguments for and against end up turning into a discussion on waffles.

The tale of Frog Fractions is seemingly innocuous even still by this point, up until you acquire warp drive in the unlockables and can venture up into the cosmos, right into a parody of a scrolling shooter and the game moving on from there. Frog Fractions is a gimmick game, which is far from an insult; even this extended joke is impressively when if you know the punch line for how many genres and moments this gets into. The jokes have aged at points, showing their time period when, as your frog decides to become President (and ruler) of the entirety of a planet of bugs, it has a parody of the opening to The West Wing, a popular American series in syndication from between 1999 to 2006. Others have stayed funny because the genre they referenced, the text adventure section, were obscure and deliberately there to baffle me let alone a younger person at the time exploring Flash games.


Scrolling and shooting insects eventually causes one to be arrested, but you have the luck to avoid being shot into the sun as a crime by becoming a bug citizen, all done in a quiz where any answer, even screaming about everyone being a bug, is the right one, among the jokes which still land. Baring some interactive sections, this is mostly an interactive story, one where the genre changes are instead deciding how to progress to the next chapter, the puzzle how to turn the page of this game metaphorically, with a few sections showing imperfections even if they are harmless. One great example of the later is how the rhythm game parody, of the dancing game Dance Dance Revolution to win bug presidency, is a mess to have properly beaten to win, any level of accuracy thankfully still a win and the scene able to still be a good one, legitimately, because it thankfully found a way to make the technical problems not a hindrance but the gag. Surprisingly there is one bottleneck which could cause some to struggle, and it is entirely because Jim Stormdancer picked a genre which was obscure back at this time, which is the text adventure section. This is not the game's fault, but that the text adventure, from the earliest days of gaming, involves purely text and builds a world you can interact but with the restrictions from that structure, that it offers its own challenges even for this very simple version. The predecessor to the point and click adventures, what typed commands are accepted before you get the puzzle of operating the bacon goop machine becomes the one potential challenge for any gamer, even next to the fun tangents into Frog Fractions teaches typing, a potentially fun arcade game in itself; you are having to figure out objects going with others in unconventional ways but also now with the idiosyncrasies of this founding gaming genre.

Most of Frog Fractions, though, is trying to figure out the progress without this additional challenge. Even cheating is part of the mechanics at one point, with the parody of Lemonade Stand, a 1973 business management game created by Bob Jamison, involving manufacturing insect planet pornography; destroying the planet's economy through inflation, by printing all the money you need, is an acceptable plan then trying to win in the simple business management simulation, with no consequences whatsoever. Again, this is a farce, ending on the credits with a metal instrumental over photos of insects strategically blurred to look rude, and from its origins as Flash game, this was meant to be an experience first as an interactive work meant to make the player laugh and play with bafflement. Adobe Flash animation was animation software produced by Adobe Systems Incorporated, existing between 2005 to 2020, and among its many uses, from animation to video games, it was capable of great creative work but also used to create silly short pieces, interactive or not, to make people laugh and create memes, to which Frog Fractions, from late in the cycle, proudly succeeds in doing itself. Its imperfections do not undercut its best moments, such as a sequence merely swimming underwater on Mars to your destination, whilst a narrator explains the origins of boxing, originally a sport derived from when men regaled boring tales at each other until one fell over, the punching rule a controversial one brought in later and superseding the original ones.

I admire it as a clever piece of interactive silliness, if aware of its limitations. Honestly, the hype of the game's legacy, becoming a sudden hit to circles who would find it, is its biggest enemy, because it puts on too much weight on a work which is at first a silly game, even with its parodies from the period to the limitations of the gameplay, and works even if you know the spoilers for its weirdness. The game was like catching lightning in a bottle, but I wish to still view it as the curious independent production which you return to once in a while. As I have by its original browser version and now, when Flash was discontinued in 2020, by Steam for free, I can appreciate the game returning to it in periods of time, return for the punch lines and the absurd tangents this gets into. It was a work meant to befuddle and it works, and the legacy from this became as well how Stormdancer felt he had to follow it up. They deserve their own days at the lily pond. The tale of the fabled Frog Fractions 2, by way of being housed in another game Glittermitten Grove (2016), is its own curious multimedia spectacle. Frog Fraction's downloadable content for the Game of the Year version, Hop’s Iconic Cap (2020), is seemingly a hat for your frog, which poses a question of how to review merely a DLC for a character accessory, but I suppose it is a really big hat and worth its own review.


Saturday, 11 March 2023

Cosmos (2015)

 


Director: Andrzej Żuławski

Screenplay: Andrzej Żuławski

Cast: Jean-François Balmer as Leon; Sabine Azéma as Madame Woytis; Jonathan Genet as Witold; Johan Libéreau as Fuchs; Victória Guerra as Lena; Clémentine Pons as Catherette / Ginette

An Abstract Candidate

 

Fuckallismus!

Taking residence in a family run country guesthouse, Witold (Jonathan Genet), an aspiring novelist and law student who has to retake his exams, and his friend Fuchs (Johan Libéreau) believe themselves to be in the midst of a mystery when Witold finds a dead bird hung by its neck on a branch. Witold, visibly in emotional turmoil from the start, is nonetheless convinced of this mystery as further strange sights disrupt his reality - the maid Catherette's (Clémentine Pons) lip disfigurement, a tea kettle in a tree, strange images marked on the wall - as everyone around him in the family is as eccentric and in the midst of their own emotional angst. One such figure, the married daughter Lena (Victória Guerra), becomes a singular obsession for him. From the get-go, the idea that legendary Polish director Andrzej Żuławski's last film is seemingly a comedy of manners is itself a great conclusion for him to have done. Taking a novel by legendary Polish author Witold Gombrowicz, whose namesake fittingly travels through this modernised parody of a mystery, he makes a tale of purpose or coincidence, the seemingly strange choice for a director who was both acclaimed and infamous for his filmmaking style, its hyperbolic emotion, a great joke from the get-go before you get to the story itself. Why the bird is tied to a string like a noose is just the beginning of the questions which may be real, as even before the sparrow hanging, dialogue emphasises this has been happening beforehand the students arrived, with a plucked chicken left in the street a week before to dumbfound people.

Żuławski's unpredictability is his forte; like the best and true definers of auteur theory, they are never predictable in the types of genre they blend and tackle, and the bias of Possession (1981) as the key film of his career, and the only film of his most had been able see, does have a drastic effect on your attitude of his filmography as a whole, which has a vast spectrum of genres he tackled. Cosmos stands in fittingly among them; the only difference is that whilst the likes of Diabel (1971) have characters constantly screaming about death and misery, this is a farce where a family and their paying guests constantly scream about how each other not understanding them or how they have unrequited feelings for another whilst they are trying to collect all the peas dropped on the kitchen floor. Witold in particular, in his attraction to Lena, fits the template of the director-writer's male leads of films before in their obsessions, becoming more on edge than he was before, a neurotic who over thinks, is over enlightened and will eventually set off the catalyst for all this pressure in the guesthouse at the halfway point.

The film is exceptionally dense just in the literary and cinematic references alone, the dialogue and the story needing multi watches to fully digest, but the significant idea behind Cosmos is this pressure cooker farce, between love being a destructive and compelling force, which has been a common theme between the director's films, to that farcical nature, be it the childish older patriarch Leon (Jean-François Balmer), the idiosyncratic turns of phrase and punning, and the piss take of the notion of a mystery. The extremes, the hysterics, were for the psychology of Zulawski's films. This seemingly quaint film, tonally like many middle class French dramas, is exaggerated by hang ups and strange obsessions, when odd details appear or are presumed to be. It becomes slapstick in its own way, hormonal angst found seeing sensuous calves being bend and flexed, or the stain on the dining room wall which may be more of a stain, but could also be Witold's obsessions consuming him. That he is missing things, like the more explicit looking stain on a wall when he sees a rake, adds to this parody, especially as the clues and suspicious are curious, like the aforementioned tea kettle, as much as they can be morbid.

In the end none of the strange circumstances Witold encounters are anything else but odd coincidences or a result of someone's angst, even he going as far as contributing to the events with the most severe of the acts, an incident involving the pet cat that, in any other film, would damn him as a villain, but in the world of Zulawski emphasises the madness of the emotions. Tailed by his trusting friend Fuchs, smartly dressed but appearing in each scene with new bloody noses and bruises each morning from constantly disastrous cruising nights, they have to wrap their heads around the guesthouse owners and their quirks, which are just as irrational to our world as viewers. The matriarch Madame Woytis (Sabine Azéma) can get so overwhelmed, she actually freezes in the spot for a period of time like a malfunctioning machine. Leon, whose dialogue at first is witty and henpecked by his wife, but starts to take on childish plays on words and more swearing as he goes along. Their maid Catherette, who is baring a small lip disfigurement, is the sanest person in the house, but with someone in the family who is also played by Clémentine Pons later on in the film, continuing an obsession the director-writer has had with doppelgangers. And Lena, the object of Witold's overwhelming obsession, who is introduced lying on a bed without the mattress on the springs, does not react to severe events as the viewer would presume her to, and whose husband is more disconnected to her than he wishes to be. Then there is the other character who eventually dresses as Tintin, which in itself is just as strange in context as outside of it.

As the mystery is ultimately a farce, you are instead turning your attention to the world and its little details; a "metaphysical noir thriller" according to its late director, the title Cosmos is apt in how ultimately the mystery Witold is obsessed with is insignificant to the literal cosmos of human behaviour, able to see a rake etched in water stain in the corner of the wall but completely blind to the significantly bigger sexual symbolism in the same spot in the lounge. A pressurised farce, where the performances break into maniac expressions and dialogue as Zulawski trademarked as his own, the anxiety that is normally found in these type of French dramas, even when their scenarios are as absurdist in the plotting, is here acted out literally. Even in terms of the plot, this is the same, as the strange acts are part of someone's plan just to keep the people around them shocked alert. Sometimes as well, Zulawski even breaks into the completely unnatural when, at a dynamic moment, suddenly one man unzips his trousers and bees are projected from them, seemingly the most irrational and unexplained moment but in context a sudden break in the tensions.

As Witold reacts violently to each odd event which bursts his personal bubble, even beating his chest like a deranged gorilla at the dinner table at one point, everyone's internal emotions are literalised as part of Żuławski's trademark, slapstick for him kinetic and as exhausting for the characters themselves as it will be for some viewers. All Witold is able to find is absurdities with little connection, instead the real mystery to be found in dealing with his emotions for Lena, her emotions for him back and how her husband, a likable guy himself, reacts badly when he pegs what is taking place between them as they all decide to go to a summer cottage to escape the stress of the hostel. Żuławski's style is entirely artificial but for the sake of his own form of realism, hence why his most well known trademark, the hyper stylised and extreme acting style, is what it is, the idea mentioned before of literalising his characters' external concerns as much as the events they are negotiating around. Restraining his use of prowling camera movements for his final film, it makes his prescience known instead by gliding through the guesthouse corridor and tracking characters along through their monologues, the irony of his hyper dynamic style tackling a genre which would seem safe and dialogue heavy perfect as the final film in the shift in tone. It is fitting for such an openly brazen and intelligence person to conclude on for his filmmaking career this production, able to get away with actor Jonathan Genet doing one scene directly to the camera, in extreme close-up, in a Donald Duck voice and it making perfect sense in context.

The dialogue in particular, in testament to translator and Żuławski documenter Daniel Bird for creating English subtitles for a film this quickly paced and dense, is a huge chunk of Cosmos' style. Restraining himself in terms of the more extreme moments of his career - from a man who had Isabelle Adjani writhing around in white milky liquid in the subway to On the Silver Globe (1988) and its mass anal impaling crucifixion - or in the use of constantly moving camera, the dialogue is still rapid fire and breath taking to follow, each character having individualistic quirks to them seen in their dialogue which, even if you were to struggle with at times, still paints their character in the poetic flourishes they use. That Żuławski has no qualms with referencing anything from himself to even Star Wars means the dialogue is exceptionally flexible and inventive, a reflection of how imaginative he was as a screenwriter. The acting as well is also exceptional as to be expected from Żuławski's films, able to convey just in exaggerated body language what their emotions are before they even speak. As a result, Cosmos feels like entering an alien environment, yet one relatively close to reality within a guesthouse full of arguments, constantly delicious culinary dishes and nature constantly appearing within the middle class environment, a slug literally letting nature be known sitting on the butter for the croissant. When the extreme emotions of the occupants of the house are shown, and reach their peak however, things drastically change, having to keep pace with Cosmos and see the literal "cosmos" of title in how dynamic and unconventional human behaviour is at its fullest.

As a result of this, the experience of Cosmos is an ever increasing series of stranger events taking place. As the realisation Lena is as interested in Witold is eventually known, the deliberately maniac energy is actually more pronounced in a film like this than in one like Possession as, while the later is more extreme in content and tone, the stereotype of what this type of slice of life drama with possible mystery content is belies the surprise of what actually takes place, having greater impact. Sadly, Żuławski would pass in 2016, just after this film, but with his final production Cosmos he was still as uncompromising as his reputation suggests, delightfully wild with intelligence and actively encouraging people to rewatch it over and over again to catch more details and moments of gleeful humour. Even ending the film, on the end credits, by breaking the forth wall and showing the film itself being produced is the sort of subversion befitting him, aptly ending the film and his life with waking up the audience too.

Abstract Spectrum: Expressionist/Weird

Abstract Rating (High/Medium/Low/None): Medium

Wednesday, 8 March 2023

Treasure Island (1986)

 


Director: Raúl Ruiz

Screenplay: Raúl Ruiz

Based on the novel by Robert Lewis Stevenson

Cast: Melvil Poupaud as Jim Hawkins; Vic Tayback as Silver; Martin Landau as the Captain; Anna Karina as the Mother; Jean-Pierre Léaud as Midas; Sheila as Aunt Helen; Lou Castel as the Doctor / the Father; Jean-François Stévenin as Israel Hands (The Rat); Yves Afonso as  the French Captain; Tony Jessen as Ben Gunn

An Abstract Candidate

 

Don't hit a blind man if you want to find treasure. Let a blind man hit you.

Among the curiosities Cannon Group produced or/and released, they secured a film by Raúl Ruiz, in the midst of his glorious eighties era, adapting Robert Lewis Stevenson's legendary pirate novel. The film we received, likely acquired due to the cache the novel has, is one which would have not been suitable for a family audience, in spite of the amount of death in the source novel, and is one that would befuddle many. Ruiz however loved the author, so this subversion of the text is not to destroy it at all, his own drastic adaptation not an absurd project he ended up on, such as Cannon financing Jean-Luc Godard's King Lear (1987) where Godard completely went against the plan, but one Ruiz deliberately turned into the film it became.

It was a film too, mind, which he would come to revisit, the resulting production here fascinating as a mixtures of those who got involved with the film just in the cast - Martin Landau as the sea captain who visits our protagonist Jim Hawkins' home and begins the narrative, Anna Katrina as Jim Hawkins' mother, and Jean-Pierre Léaud as a mysterious writer following Hawkins as an outsider to the story itself. The dubbing adds to the strangeness to what is a film fully from this phantasmagorical era of Ruiz's career, set in the current day yet existing in a dream world. With the romantic music, of the tone not of a love story, at one point a constant in the early scenes, it feels unreal as we meet Jim Hawkins (Melvil Poupaud), a young boy living on an island at his parents' inn, only to be violently contrasted by the grimness of just content in the first act. This is not a film for the family as previously mentioned, for its tone and because this becomes a tale of a Jim Hawkins who, as a bystander, finds himself going through horrible events the adults play. As much as in the original novel, this includes the reoccurring theme for Ruiz of the menace of death. A blind man, as from the novel, signals the first outside threat when at first a sea captain (Landau) stays at the inn, leaving a glass eye as a threat. There is no innocence here, as before he even reaches Treasure Island, Jim will be traumatised by thugs raiding his home, being punished by them with belt shots, or his father's many staged suicide attempts finally succeeding.

But credit to Ruiz, his take on Treasure Island, whilst drastically altered and eventually a meta-textual interpretation fully retells the story in some new form, including nodding the source as a text within this world itself. It is an obsession for characters, the film eventually becoming a meta-dissection whilst reinterpreting the source, the adults actually playing out roles with Jim Hawkins a reluctant stand-in for this lead. It offers Long John Silver as Silver (Vic Tayback), the shoe maker who runs a Lebanese restaurant. Even if he makes a great omelette, done by using a syringe to extract the egg yolk, he is still the nefarious Silver, and this still involves ships and eventually getting to the titular island. The aspects which are entirely Ruiz stand out more as a result, torturing someone to know what their favourite song is, or this character believing all, regardless of virtue or sin, go to Heaven and thus a socialist.

Production wise, there is clearly the fact Treasure Island, if you attempted to film a faithful adaptation, would have been expensive, and there is the other fact that between Errol Flynn to Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003), pirates in cinema were not financially successful, in 1986 as well Roman Polanski's Pirates, as well as being a tumultuous production, was not a box office success at all as a big budget "proper" pirate film. Treasure Island is curious in its production companies as well, handled between Cannon Group, BFI Production, the film producing arm of the British Film Institute, our most significant institution in Britain for cinema, and Les Films du Passage, who produced other Ruiz films. None of them, even Cannon with their attempts to with the likes of Lifeforce (1985), were companies who specialised in big budget works either, so Ruiz's adaptation is as much improvised as throughout his career, shot in Senegal for a portion of the film, but changing galleons to modern ships and with the pirates their modern equivalents with assault rifles.

The sense of adventure is still there with only the edge of the morbid added. The compositions also stand out; shot by Acácio de Almeida, a regular collaborator at this point and prolific in Portuguese cinema, Treasure Island has Ruiz's trademarks of deep focus scenes (figures and objects like cats in the fore ground, characters in the background), and his vivid use of colour and lighting. Once we actually get to Treasure Island itself, the pace of the film fully, proudly, becomes its own spin of the source text as the meta-textual nature fully takes over, that this story and the character names are literally personas, for a game even with real casualties that has continued over many times. Arguments about game theory transpire over gun fire, whilst the one native on the island, the Ben Gun equivalent, has been using the treasure, diamonds in this world, as the perfect slingshot ammo. By the point of the finale, any question of wanting a faithful adaptation dissipates as this drastic reinterpretation of Robert Lewis Stevenson stands out as an admirable and strange adventure. Works of canonical legacy, especially when they enter the public domain, gain so much because the source text still exists proud of its virtues, with this one absolutely the case, and that the adaptations can vary so wildly with their own flourishes as the tale survives in multiple forms.

The first take of this tale I grew up with, with fond memories of, is a musical version with the Muppets and Tim Curry as Long John Silver, for Muppets Treasures Island (1996), and it is perversely appropriate that it can co-exist as Ruiz's, dimensions connected by the same text, even if Ruiz's has more cursing and significantly less Kermit the Frog. Ruiz's even takes its playful unrevealing of the reality into the oneiric, with a reoccurring obsession for Jim Hawkins being an action television show set in Africa the adults around him may be the stars of, which blurs the lines between what is real for him in the world, and what is staged and he needs to not take seriously for his safety. Sadly, even as a Cannon Group release, this has become obscure, Raúl Ruiz one of my favourite filmmakers still doomed to hazy VHS images even if appropriate for the sources, including if you find it with Spanish subtitles. It is a credit to Raul Ruiz that, in 1986 alone, he also released four others films, so Treasure Island even if an imperfect work was contrasted by the vast tableau of titles which came at the same time. It is telling he returned to this film, with the 2008 novel In Pursuit of Treasure Island, which in itself befits the project and his entire career, a text which can grow and change in new telling within another text.

Abstract Spectrum: Dreamlike/Eccentric

Abstract Rating (High/Medium/Low/None): Low

Saturday, 4 March 2023

Games of the Abstract: Super Castlevania IV (1991)

 


Developer: Konami

Publisher: Konami

One Player

Super Nintendo Entertainment System

 

Returning to the Castlevania franchise, we get to a jump for the series where they transitioned into the 16 bit era of gaming. Whilst there was a divisive Game Boy game (Castlevania The Adventure (1989)), a significantly better Game Boy sequel (Castlevania II: Belmont's Revenge (1991)), a maligned arcade game (Haunted Castle (1987)), and a MSX 2 game (Vampire Killer (1986)), this was a franchise which kept its main franchise on the original Nintendo Entertainment System/Famicom console for Nintendo. The irony is not lost that, bringing the franchise onto the SNES, Konami even if making more spin-offs to the main franchise for the next few years would effectively focus more on widening the audience to the franchise, eventually leading to one of the game's most important, Castlevania: Symphony of the Night (1997), being a Sega Saturn and Sony Playstation release, Nintendo 64 instead getting an attempt to bring the main franchise to the third dimensional polygons which was divisive. That does not dampen that Super Castlevania IV, effectively a remake of the original 1986 NES game which began it all, was their head long charge into a new era of technological tools to play with even if Konami would expand the franchise onto other consoles from here on.

Coming as a spruced up version of the original Castlevania, where Simon Belmont, heir to a family lineage who fights Dracula, has to deal with the Count, there is not much beyond this simple mission in terms of plot, what progresses is a series of levels travelling through the villain’s castle to the vampire lord himself. Made originally for the SNES, this throws itself into the aesthetic and technological boosts of the machine, it also contrasting Castlevania: Bloodlines (1994), the title released for Sega’s own 16 bit machine which had its own innovations. Both are straightforward platforming games – one direction, hit enemies with your vampire killer whip, and negotiate obstacles – before the series would help create the “Metroidvania” genre. Notably each has their own gameplay differences, and aesthetically they are different to, standing out from each other.

Even in terms of the colour palette between the pair being distinct, the pair together are a reminder that back at this point this was something that could vary between home consoles considerably even in this little touch; different technological choices means Bloodlines is a vibrantly morbid game in look, whilst in contrast Super Castlevania IV has a considerable amount of atmosphere to its aesthetic. The games do stand out from each other as, a side story, Bloodlines has the levels set in different countries and locations, allowing drastically different aesthetics per level, whilst Castlevania IV is set around one location, Dracula’s vast castle, and embraces a connecting aesthetic of a decayed and haunted environment which is out to kill your protagonist. The SNES game has its own personal quirks; probably one of the most obvious is using the console’s “Mode 7” graphics. Designed to allow a background layer to be rotated and scaled, creating many possibilities for different effects, this means using the graphical techniques to create a section where, comparable to those spinning tunnels in haunted houses people walking through, there is a quasi-cylindrical tunnel which rotates as Simon Belmont has to jump across platforms. There is also a section where the gravity changes, having to hang off a grapple hook, and the world rotates around him through this technique. Other techniques flourish on this game, all adding a quirk to the look of the game, such as when you are jumping on platforms attached to giant swinging chandeliers using a quasi three dimensional effect.


There is a great emphasis on platforming here too, where alongside the little touches, Super Castlevania IV intermingles its whipping of enemies with a lot more concern of how to negotiate around sections let alone the whole stage. Here you have full directional use of the whip itself, even the ability to swing it with full rotation using the directional buttons. The platforming is a little precise to the extreme, as this game fully emphasizes the need to memorize ahead, alongside the fact that here more so than Bloodlines, instant death pits and spikes are a lot more common. The passages even become puzzles in having to work around enemies who can knock you off platforms and that, with a surreal number of staircases floating in the air to work from, you will have a lot of scenarios where it is wiser to stay on them and whack a skeleton or two dead again before setting forth on the platform they are attached to. It is telling, even if Bloodlines was a harder game in its own way, particularly with less health power ups and a password system, Super Castlevania IV has plentiful amounts of health replenishing chicken to devour, if off the floor, between challenging sections. The gameplay additions built into the franchise so far too are also as important – powered by hearts you can collect from the likes of candles, side weapons are just as useful tools for boss battles but even to clear paths from awkward enemy placements, depending on what weapon you have collected.

Unlike Bloodline’s intercontinental trip around Europe, this traverses from the castle grounds, to the treasury and dungeons, towards Dracula. Dracula, having the advantage of being a super magical being, can turn anything clearly meant for mortals to traverse into death traps, and that is before you get to the monsters and figures from various backgrounds in terms of threats. Super Castlevania IV is tonally more somber, but it is still a game of campy gothic aesthetic, finding balances between these sides. One of the best levels, in the Halls where even if the ghosts you face can be hard, emphasizes this by having them, even ones who are dancing together, the main focus with their own devoted stage. Alongside having tables trying to attack you or dodging glowing ectoplasm, the final boss for the stage is a ghost couple, man and female, in ethereal waltzing embrace, attacking the player in synchronized choreography and fencing sword strikes.

Eyeballs from Dungeons & Dragons float to get in the way as you jaunt into the treasury and fight a giant bat literally made from gold doubloons, and all of this, for all the challenge the game presents, perfectly encapsulates the virtues of Castlevania. The tonal changes between this and the Mega Drive game do not change how both are from a franchise which allowed their artists and creators to be as inventive even in eccentric ways, thus explaining one of the bosses here being a giant skull where falling bone fragments are also a huge issue. I will still prefer Castlevania: Bloodlines, but with Super Castlevania IV, you see a franchise strut into the 16 bit generation without faltering, and they are both solid gems in their own right. As talked of, this would be a franchise changing into the late nineties, Symphony of the Night changing the gameplay into the Metroidvania genre it gave part of the name from, and with this among those before this change, there is even before this change the virtues of these games from the music to their atmosphere that became their personality. Finally getting to this franchise, these games really justify their legacy.

Thursday, 2 March 2023

The Atrocity Exhibition (1998)

 


Director: Jonathan Weiss

Screenplay: Jonathan Weiss and Michael Kirby

Adapted from the novel by J.G. Ballard

Cast: Victor Slezak as Travis Talbert; Anna Juvander as Karen Novotny; Michael Kirby as Dr. Nathan; Mariko Takai as Nurse Nagamatsu; Robert Patrick Brink as Vaughn Koester; Diane Grotke as Catherine; Caroline McGee as Margaret

An Abstract Candidate

 

J.G. Ballard’s source text, if a choice of word which lacks nuisance, feels confrontational. Part verse text, part reflection of the period, in context it is still a transgressive text even if of its time period. For the film and text, the structure is how Travis Talbert (Victor Slezak), a doctor at a mental hospital, has reached a breakdown, his own mania having pushed his students to work on projects based on his obsessions, such as World War III, documenting the wounds that could happen in such a conflict for one of the earliest examples in the film. The resulting adaptation is a curious film, one which did not succeed for me but is nonetheless fascinating, a 2000s film of a lower budget yet explicitly tied to the early seventies from a 1970 novel built around smaller pieces written over the sixties. The malaise of the 1960s going through to the Vietnam War, the production goes over multiples themes like the fear (and secret pleasure) in outer space NASA disasters or sexual wounds from car accidents, this novel also the prototype of Crash, Ballard’s later novel and the 1996 David Cronenberg film adaptation.

Its entire world, of Marilyn Monroe, James Dean and nuclear bombs, does have content I admire, as reflecting a source text I also admire and yet is a peculiar piece as well. It was a novel for its seriousness, and in mind that it was built from a serious context that we will get into later on, that can be viewed as having an unintentionally funny edge, or at least that which does not get the desired reaction, even baring in mind that the film adaptation does have interpretations of the source which clearly meant to be intentional if sickly funny.  The film’s transgressions, among themes, can go from using real life footage of face lift surgery, graphic but clinical as the grimness is in seeing something usually a taboo, the reconstruction of the body, or its continuing of Ballard’s clinical take of sexuality from his writing, be it the one hardcore shot of footage used here or matching the erotic, even the legitimately sexual and beautiful in the human body, against perverse fixations. There is even a recreation of a controversial piece, which was published separately beforehand, Why I Want to Fuck Ronald Reagan, written in the style of a scientific paper trying to measure the psychosexual appeal of Ronald Reagan, when he was still the Governor of California.

The source text's structure means that this is less a plot onwards in the adaptation, and more of of events separated into chapters, as Talbert's mania continues and other doctors collect his research materials and creations to explain his psychosis. The tone of this entire production can be summed up with the “Imaginary Sex Death of Che Guevara” being an actual line of dialogue used in the film; it does come off as a parody, and I reflect that Ballard had a dry humour to his writing, with one of the reoccurring aspects from the novel being the surveys of sexual fantasies of famous people, collected from normal people off the streets, his attempt to tackle the cult of personality and celebrity culture growing at the time something I would not be surprised had as much a satirical edge as his serious reflections on this, as much as with tackling his fascination with sexual desire mutating from the malaise of the 20th century.


The Jonathan Weiss co-written and directed work does feel matter-of-factly serious, which was what disconnected me from it, as this is attempting to tackle the kind of novel, from the era of Ballard’s more extreme work or William S. Burroughs’ cut-and-paste experiments, which could truly be “un-filmable”. Not because they cannot, but because you have to factor in tone, presentation and how the novels did not need to reflect having a beginning to a middle to an ending, something cinema is absolutely capable of, but in a different way due to have the projection of information has to be done with the confines of the moving picture form. The proto Crash segments, in staging automobile accidents, have not aged at all in how they have been adapted here, its conceptual auto disasters what Cronenberg managed to make timeless and transgressive in his adaptation. With dialogue feeling like Cronenberg here, Weiss' adaptation here has the strange air of referring to a work entirely of its time, of the seventies, and reflecting on the fifties and sixties beforehand, but caught in the late nineties into the Millennium as a production in look and resources. The fact that the themes and fetishistic details are obvious at times if weird is a factor to trying to digest this film, as it does not lead one by the hand or explain itself deliberately, like the operating room as the new modeling photo shoot location, but there are salient lines which feel more relevant as the time went on and the internet became more prevalent, when a doctor says of imaging new perversions to keep the act of sex alive. Some images like the case designed to personify a woman – a suitcase including vaginal smears, latex face mask moulds of her etc. – and to portrait her is something absurdist but also legitimately disturbing. 

There is a lot to admire in The Atrocity Exhibition but it reveals how much of the source text requires to be dissected and looked at in context to why Ballard wrote it. The novel is a peculiar one, which can be in legitimate danger as time passes of having been an indulgent piece meant to just shock. This is especially the case as there is no real plot that could be used to bring the viewer easily into this, the closest to a narrative progression in the film how eventually, after Travis' trajectory is shown and people try to examine his subconscious, he disappears and they take after him. The source material, openly influenced by Burroughs, was written with legitimate tragedy at its heart, the death of Ballard’s first wife Mary in 1964, the novel admitted as a coping measure for this sudden loss1, and in mind it reflects even in its transgressions on the fear of nuclear winter, the assassination of John F. Kennedy, and other concerns from the era all woven together in an attempt to find meaning within all of them. The novel, alongside being a series of smaller texts altogether, has touches like Talbert having different names per chapter, undercutting the sense of this all following a cohesive trajectory of cause leading to event. Ballard even structured this book with the idea that, if anyone wanted to pick a random chapter to read first and read the whole book in order, that was perfectly acceptable1, and there is the sense that this film, whilst experimental and out there, does pull back from the extreme of a list based or segmented structure, still semblance of a theming rather than the lucid extremes of a surrealist film from the past decades before.

Some of it is having to work around the transgressions that the mind can conjure up perverse images of but a film cannot without obscenity laws being brought, such as that infamous Ronald Regan chapter, which is not the scientific research paper of before, even if the image of having sex with a woman, nude and hanging out of a car, with a picture of Ronald Regan on her face is bizarre and funny in its own way. Having to work around the cultural baggage which requires context, even something like this not being the Regan most known, the future president, brings up the issue of context being required, such as with the use of the footage from the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster of 28th January 1986, where the shuttle when attempting to lift off into space tragically exploded during the launch process. That footage as well, and images of Japanese citizens who have suffered radiation disfigurement, do raise justifiable questions of whether this filmic adaptation comes off as the pretentious man’s shock compilation by accident, as those images, without absorbing their meaning and history context, can be exploitation in a very negative way.

Even seemingly benign images, to the film's credit, have more weight to them, such as adverts for a line of Crash Test Dummy toys, a red car among them one I had as a kid, which connected to the real life ones used to research car crashes; able to be crashed and broken into pieces when ran into table legs and sideboards of walls, these adverts for toys for children gain sinister connotations with what they are linked to. The thing is, needing to be faithful to the source text means The Atrocity Exhibition can be a barrage of images for a viewer, one I admire and could easily come to love, but with the ambivalence due to how The Atrocity Exhibition is a film to admire but one whose form even causes one to ponder what the source novel’s original intentions were. Especially as it exists as a work from a different era one attempts to see the relevance of decades on, this is absolutely a case of a film, now of a time before in historical context, attempting to evaluate a work from an earlier time before, which does feel a lot of questions surrounding its form fully.

 

Abstract Spectrum: Avant-Garde/Perverse

Abstract Rating (High/Medium/Low/None): Low


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1) An analysis of The Atrocity Exhibition from A Useful Fiction, published on February 14th 2018.

Wednesday, 1 March 2023

Eden and After (1970)

 


Including a review of N. Took The Dice... (1971)

Director: Alain Robbe-Grillet

Screenplay: Alain Robbe-Grillet

Cast: Catherine Jourdan as Violette; Pierre Zimmer as Duchemin; Richard Leduc as Marc-Antoine; Lorraine Rainer as Marie-Eve; Sylvain Corthay as Jean-Pierre; Juraj Kukura as Boris; Jarmila Kolenicová as Sonia; Ludovít Króner as Franc

An Abstract Candidate

 

We are already into the unconventional when the opening credits invoke a late sixties Jean-Luc Godard production, spoken aloud with arrangements of words in-between staff/cast credits like a psychosexual word association game. “Game” is apt, as acclaimed novelist and later filmmaker Alain Robbe-Grillet came to filmmaking as making openly artificial works. His film here is a game, an abstract one with the tropes of a genre thriller played by its characters as a game.

In the centre of this is Violette (Catherine Jourdan) and a group of disillusioned university students who hang out at a café called Eden, acting out scenarios as Franc (Ludovít Króner), the waiter, is their fabled sinister butler who may have been involved in white trafficking and drugs smuggling (or not) in a previous life. They play out mock games of violence, male and female members, such as an act of rape or Russian roulette with the twist of one person wearing a blind fold with the gun, and a die being rolled to choose the target with added randomness. Though I will view Robbe-Grillet's work as being artificial on purpose, I cannot help to see a post May 1968 haze seep over this. There is a cynical sense that these misanthropic students belong to a group who, after the May 1968 protests in France where across the country and in different forms the left wing challenged the right wing, were left in a permanent ennui when they were not able to change the world. With no sense of meaning or ability to change the world, these students at Eden now stage poisonings steeped in boredom. The world around them is abstract by itself, with this marking Robbe-Grillet's first colour film too, the world as precisely put together and contrasted even when, as a Tunisian co-production, he filmed in the real Tunisian landscape.

It stands out fully in mind to this, even in terms of his obsession and hatred of the colour green, jettisoned entirely on camera here next to other primary and secondary colours. Aptly the staged deaths in Eden are within a café which is an avant-garde installation in itself, with erotic photography on the walls contrasted by pop art squares of pure primary colour as the tables to seating cubes followed the same aesthetic choices. Even when the film, as mentioned, moves to Tunisia, filming in real locations as part of its conspiracy plot involving a man known as Duchemin/the Dutchman (Pierre Zimmer) and a picture in Violette’s possession, the locations are still striking especially in the buildings and their interiors, designed with pure white with blue prominently used for the likes of the doors. As a result, a vast amount of scenes in movement and still shots are eye-catching, the cast figures made by the director to position and pose in the midst of all this, as they themselves play out choreographed games even with real death involved.

Eden and After, in all honesty, is a work of pure style, knowingly an abstract collage of Alain Robbe-Grillet's obsessions turned into genre tropes as an artificial construct. Duchemin, as a mystery man, first shakes the film towards a plot, the catalyst when he enters the café and shows the learnt knowledge of esoteric abilities to the students from living in Africa, such as powders which induce one’s worse fears. His existence, and possible faked death, pushes Violette to travel to Tunisia and a conspiracy, involving her fellow students and Franc who are after a picture she inherited from her late uncle. The plot itself is a machination, mere context, a structure for the characters and Robbe-Grillet's obsessions, contrasted as much as Duchemin’s erotic masochistic-sadist art, posing his mistress and other women completely naked against white background, against harsh props such as inside steel cages or against doorways. Ultimately this is a mood piece, prominently evoking Robbe-Grillet's real life practices in BDSM among the fascination with games and the structure of games. This could provide some viewers with great discomfort, as he contrasts the full eroticization of women, lusted over in their nudity, against their apparent pain in chains, tied to wheels and being bound. Bear in mind, whether your position on these images, his own life included the importance of Catherine Robbe-Grillet, his widow who worked on this film in the cast and whose career has included being a writer of sadomasochistic writing. With a marriage to the end of his life which included sadomasochistic practices and an open relationship on both sides, she also would become a dominatrix who work continued into even her eighties onwards1; details like this, of someone important in the director-writer's life, does need to be factored in, his legitimate desires in sado-masochism in real life and his films to be contrasted by the woman who together shared a loving relationship and this obsession with. It at least complicates this even if, truthfully, these scenes are the ones in Eden and After which may prove the most discomforting even if they are entirely artificial even in how the characters are depicted.

Even in mind to this, his general fascination (and clear fantasies) of beautiful women in forms of restraint, usually naked here, is an acquired taste and one that become more prominent in his films when they found colour, the erotic becoming more a factor as he went with his film career. The artifice is still there in the actresses (as people and their bodies) posed and contrasted against pure white and manmade objects, and even the male actors are figures he places onscreen. The use of blood, obviously fake but profuse and in vast quantities in deep poster red, is more lurid and shocking in its artifice, such as a suicide in a pure white Tunisian bathtub of stone, the transgression found in something so strikingly simple as using colour itself in purely fictional and un-realistic form. The irony is not lost knowing Alain Robbe-Grillet was an author, using words first, using the visuals themselves here to great effect, which is why too Igor Luther as the cinematographer and Anton Krajcovic for art direction deserve a huge amount of praise for what the pair brought to the film with Robbe-Grillet.

The second half of Eden and After, in Tunisia, still progresses the template of a plot, but is also more of a non-linear piece with Violette experiencing the web of deceit and conspiracy in her relationship with Duchemin and those trying to find the picture. It is, even for Robbe-Grillet's films I have seen, a work which is explicitly more of a conceptual piece, an avant garde production just as liable to have turned into a later era Jean-Luc Godard film as it is undoubtedly a lurid genre piece from this era of sexploitation. The content of the film, more extreme than before, is of a type Alain Robbe-Grillet would fit more in with his later films if still out of synch with them, too avant-garde and too idiosyncratic for even that sexploitation tag to fully work for them. Certainly it is as compelling as it is incredibly idiosyncratic, the equivalent for a famous author penning a pastiche of a genre story, dissecting it entirely to contrast its tropes into striking images, legitimately in this case for the images onscreen.

This was not the end of the film as, creating its mirror sibling, an alternative cut called N. Took the Dice (1971) was produced. Deserving to be included in this review side-by-side, Robbe-Grillet created a remix of Eden and After, which included existing footage with outtakes and materials from the shot itself. The narrator, with dice, talks at the beginning directly to the viewers on TV having to be in an order, with shows that need to be explained, with a complete lack of enigma; the irony is that, whilst this deliberately obfuscates this later eventually to question this concept, Robbe-Grillet here is playing a perverse game of taking a work, originally meant to deconstruct a story, and turning into a work of telling a new story, through reused footage and that not used in the original version.

Tonally it does feel different, right in the beginning with significant greater use of footage of the locals in the Tunisia shot before.  Violette is now the nameless figure to be christened Eve, a figure N. is aware of from his past as he gives her this name and gives us this tale she is within. Duchemin is now a nefarious older man with connections to female slavery with an interest with Eve, the painting of the first film still important but the context changed. This does not feel like a pointless reinterpretation as, whilst the use of older footage is prominent, the context is radically changed, and the previously unseen footage adds a lot. There is even humour, like the fake advertisement (using scenes in the Eden cafe) of a personal anti-pick pocket/theft device for women that can fit in their pocket. Now a story of Duchemin being a trafficker in kidnapped women, Eve his newest target, and other characters trying to rescue her, Robbe-Grillet not only changes the story completely, showing how stories can be told with the same footage, but this even brings in realities within realities, where alternative realities between Tunisia and the Eden cafe can be entered between each other, becoming as abstract as the original as a result in its own distinct way. The only aspect which is unexpected to Alain Robbe-Grillet himself is that far less, if almost none, of the BDSM themes are here, and whilst sensuality is referred to, it is never explicitly depicted either even in nudity, which also changes the tone. The more expected aspect, considering its sister film, is when this ends with the joke that our lead has won a washing machine, least a post card says so. It is not really a spoiler to a production which, whilst taking a subversive route by actually telling a story, is still an Alain Robbe-Grillet film which is going to undercut this game itself. N. Took the Dice does work as its own film, but honestly, it needs to co-exist with Eden and After; together they make a compelling pair, Eden and After the superior film but N. Took the Dice as rewarding when the two can reinterpret the other.

Abstract Spectrum: Atmospheric/Avant-Garde

Abstract Rating (High/Medium/Low/None): High

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1) The Thin End of the Whip, written by Toni Bentley, published for Vanity Fair on February 2014.

Tuesday, 28 February 2023

Games of the Abstract: Pachinko Sexy Reaction 1 & 2 (1998-1999)

 


Developer: Sammy Company

Publisher: Sammy Company

One Player

Arcade

 

In terms of “ephemeral” games, those which are made in mind they will be replaced with newer versions down the line, not focused on as a long lasting franchise, gambling machines are today's example to examine through a curious pair of entries in pachinko's history. Pachinko is a phenomenon in Japan, and one factor to consider in this is how most forms of gambling in Japan are banned by Japanese law with a few exceptions1. One example which is exempt is horse racing betting, which is apt for a video game review to bring up as, when Nintendo even as far back in the late eighties tried to bring in online connection for the Famicon (the Japanese NES), with the Family Computer Network System in 1988, there was also the JRA-PAT (Japanese Racing Association-Personal Access Terminal), horse-race betting software for the add-on.

Pachinko is not a gambling game but has managed to get around these laws too, including how prizes won at pachinko can be exchanged at nearby stores for cash2, and the lucrative nature of pachinko means that countless licensed machines have existed over the years and earn a lot. For the anime franchise Neon Genesis Evangelion (1995), held in high regards in the West and in Japan, its variety of pachinko and pachislot machines have had 2,380,000 cumulative unit sales by 2020 alone3. In mind to this, it is not surprising if tragic how, when Konami went weird in the 2010s in their licenses, the joke they would make pachinko tie-ins to the likes of Silent Hill and Castlevania came from a logic. Something like CR Pachinko Akumajō Dracula (2015) becoming notorious when it a) even existed for Castlevania fans, and b) was promoted for having 'Erotic Violence' content4, but unfortunately, at a time Konami were investing more in areas like pachinko machines than video games5, it made sense nonetheless for them. To invest in this industry considering how prolific it was in Japan was clearly them, as with investing into mobile gaming, a sign of how these vast industries like pachinko were lucrative even if not what we wanted from a video game developer to focus on.

The irony is knowing these pachinko machines came to Japan originally through a children’s game called the Corinth Game (or Corinthian Bagatelle), an early 1920s game produced in Chicago and based on the 1819 French game Bagatelle6, in which there was a shooting plunger designed (unlike with marbles originally) to fire silver balls, both helping to innovate pinball in its existence too6. Corinthin Bagatelle, or the Korinto Gemu as it became, was first imported into Japan in 1924, where kids could win sweets playing them. The term "Pachi-Pachi", which means the clicking of small objects or the crackling sounds made by a fire, came from this target audience and in itself was a term around the machines that would eventually christen the future ones influenced by these initial pieces of entertainment6. Adults would eventually play these games for small prizes, and also bear in mind too that a British wall game called The Circle of Pleasure, invented and distributed in 1910, brought scoring pockets, a vertical configuration where the balls stayed on field and other innovations which would find their way to influence the first pachinko machines, starting to be created by 19296. This is a long prologue but all video game genres are inherently of interest for their backgrounds, and ephemeral genres, those rarely preserved and re-released, merely with new titles for them, are usually tapping into cultural concepts of great interest.  The obsession with fishing in human culture (and Japan’s) from official games let alone the fishing mini-games in others in one such example, to mahjong in all its normal and strip based varieties which get released into the West, based on a variety of different forms of mahjong, originating from China, and in certain cultures is also a game played with money on the line. Pachinko’s arcade and home console interpretations, not the actual machines, stand out for this reason too, most if all never getting released in the West, yet appearing on home consoles over the decades let alone in the arcades. Today's games being covered, as digital arcade pachinko games not played for prizes of a physical kind, could be dismissed especially when you get into their salacious content, but with their historical origins, they already have a lot of cultural background to prod with fascination.

It is also important in mind to the creator of these two games, the Sammy Company. Sammy Company got into the mechanical and electro-mechanical games industry through pachi-slot games in 1982, and continued to into the modern day, but not without taking a passing period into video game publication and development too, not just pachinko games like the Pachinko Sexy Reaction games being covered. Their bread and butter in pachinko and pachi-slots would continue over the decades, but we have to thank Sammy Company, who merged with Sega to form Sega Sammy in 20047, for distributing a large portion of Arc System Work’s Guilty Gear franchise over decades, both arcade to home console releases of the cult fighting game franchise, and the non-pachinko games just from picking them out from the softography are tantalizing if obscure to learn about. For examples, Dolphin Blue (2003), a side-scrolling run-and-gun for the arcades that sadly never got an official port to consoles; Deep Freeze (1999), a Japanese only action adventure game for the original Playstation; or Higanbana (2002), a sound novel for the Playstation 2, another concept more frequent in Japan sadly neglected as a concept in the West. Sammy also, for the most part, produced a lot of pachinko games for the arcades and consoles, and whilst it may make no sense with no ability to win prizes to have these games exist, bear in mind mahjong is prolific in the arcades and consoles, and casino games for the West without the ability to gamble real money have existed in multiple forms. Even onto the Nintendo DS, Sammy gave you the likes of licensed titles like the legendary manga franchise Fist of the North Star in pachinko form with sequels.


There is another aspect to Pachinko Sexy Reaction to bear in mind, which might cause one to blush and avoid covering it, but is an incentive to play the game if there is not physical prize you can win. It is an adult game franchise, but in context that the closest thing to adult material, where even Japanese hardcore pornography is censored for their laws, is topless animated nudity and nothing more explicit. Alongside the fact that pachinko, like other games, do touch on a compulsive aspect of human beings, to be hooked on stimulus, these two games are also based on being able to see female characters you encounter slowly take off more clothing as you win. It is still a game of chance here, which presents an obvious aspect about the game being a pure coin guzzler, as ball bearings in real life let along digital, bouncing off pegs, are unpredictable to coordinate, to reach the areas you need to send them in to succeed. This was meant to be a game to eat coins unless you can figure out a perfect technique to fire the balls, chance in physics only challenged by the option to change the side the silver balls are fired to. This is also a rare “sexy” pachinko game, when most versions for game consoles are straight forward pachinko replications. This was also a fascination with this double pack of games, being covered together, simply as much as a rare choice. Next to mahjong or clones of Qix (1981), for Sammy Corporation to have chosen pachinko in terms of a game about selling sexy female characters you can see nude, it is an eclectic choice and clearly one, based on the belief clearly there was another audience with their main games of choice, a chance to wider their audience to their regular pachinko and pachi-slot games in a variety of forms.

The only real issue in terms of the game’s erotic content is that, to be blunt, some of the characters in the first game are uncomfortably young in their design, both in visual appearance and in the choices for the female voice actors with the pitch of their voices, a cast of which we will get into later as they include prolific figures. Beyond this, this is cheesecake, where over three rounds for the first game, you get animated cut scenes of the women, for the main character, getting undressed into more fetishistic and skimpier clothes, won by reaching the number of silver balls won on their tables. The game is like a teenage heterosexual male, obsessed with female breasts, exaggerated in the character designs which, beyond this, follow the tropes of what was popular in female character designs in this era of anime and manga. This is in terms the style of eye size and the other little touches which could be ignored, such as having eyes on female characters drawn in oblong circle shapes to depicting noses beyond a dot, using the likes of the hiragana kanji "ku" for the shape and being more obviously prominent as a result8.

With the first game having a stand-in, a slightly dimwitted attractive blond guy playing pachinko to get women to dress in clothes less likely to hide anything as the rounds go on, there is a concern as to whether this type of erotic game in presentation is acceptable. This is more an issue for the first game in the uncomfortable use of cuteness, by way of youth, in some of the characters, and that some of the characters, whilst not threatened, are still not pleased at all with the challenge they have accepted, not happy with you even putting another coin in to get more silver balls to play with. Beyond that, the notion of the male gaze has been complicated as more female gamers, and more pro sex female fans of pop culture, make their voices known, as with the wider voices for LGBTQIA+ video gamers which means a “gaze”  needs to reconsidered for a wider spectrum. This now has to consider individual gamers in terms of their sexuality, what they are attracted to and/or what would be sexist and/or purely crass to them. This means the standards of what is acceptable for good reason are more complicated even for a game like this, which was targeting a heterosexual male audience in Japan.  

The issue is that too, due to tendency for video games to once focus on male players, and electronic machine games too over the decades beforehand, we ended up with games which eroticize women rather than also eroticize men with equal interest. Unless Fist of the North Star has buff macho men who attract you, which I write that hoping someone out there does find their pleasure in, sadly there is no Pachinko Sexy Reaction game yet with sexy shirtless men getting changed into skimpier clothes unless it is obscurer then even these games. Decades where the concept of the erotic or even sexy video game being for a male audience, and being of female characters only, has made it strange to look at a game like this. Nowadays, gamers of all gender and sexualities exist and a vast level of eroticism has never been touched at all in genres like this before hand when the industry came to be properly, let alone dealing with the fact that a variety of body types, let alone a LGBTQIA+ and female perspective, were ignored. The obsession here with large breasts barely contained in clothes by itself, from female characters who are still depicted as thin figured, does feel like a self contained and small fraction of what is considered potentially attractive to any player, as much likely influenced by Western figures like Pamela Anderson and Western interpretations of beauty from outside Asia from the time. It in itself does brings up the very limited idealizations of beauty in terms of appearance and body shapes for women, let alone cis- and trans-women and men as an audience and subject for desire, something you need to point and accuse the Western gaming industry of doing so too. It is deliberately an exaggeration of the female character designs too, which also has to be factored in, as between the ability to summon an actual angel on the final pachinko table who helps you out, or the bright sensatory aesthetic of the stages, sumptuous in their own way, the entire game as with the sequel is an openly cartoonish game mixing sex comedy and pachinko that, whether it has aged or not, looks like it could have been a tie-in to a straight to video sex comedy show which had a broad sense of humour and had the slapstick as this does in its animated cut scenes.


The other prominent thing about the first of these games is that, for this production, it is quite a lavish game in context, with the animated scenes short but fully animated, hand drawn if interpreted on an arcade machine, and with full voice acting even if un-translated into English, as a work never released over in the West. Whilst clarifying the accuracy of this can be to debate9, this is where a real surprise comes in the established voice actresses who worked on this project, all part of how, as talented figures, voice actors for Japanese animation and video games still work, and their CVs can swing in so many tonal shifts. Kumiko Nishihara will be known for many for Perona, a prominent One Piece franchise character over the series and film tie-ins, alongside many cute mascot characters for the Pretty Cure/Precure series, a magical girl franchise of series which is explicitly targeting a young audience, a veteran since the eighties in the voice acting industry. Konami Yoshida is prolific especially in supporting roles but also with main ones, the one of note being one of the leads for Magic Knight Rayearth, a CLAMP magical fantasy mecha story with a notable Sega Saturn tie-in game, Magic Knight Rayearth (1995), an RPG which ended up being one of the last Saturn releases for the North American market despite being a 1995 game. Masako Katsuki, prominently the support character of Tsunade from the Narato franchise of anime, alongside Sailor Neptune for the Sailor Moon franchise, is another veteran starting from the eighties. Yumi Takada, who became a casting director for the Metal Gear Solid franchise, was prominent as a character Ayeka in the Tenchi Muyo! franchise among other roles. And finally, breaking up the alphabetical order, is Ikue Ōtani, as she is the one who really shows how voice acting in Japan is a job where one works in titles for all audiences, adult and for kids. She is someone most will know as, without being seen, as she is the voice of Pikachu, the beloved yellow electric mouse, over the Pokemon animated franchise, alongside other main and supporting roles, starting her career in a tiny role for My Neighbour Totoro (1988) by Hayao Miyazaki. This is neither to shame any of these actresses, if this is all confirmed in terms of casting credits, just a funny realization, completely unaware of this until researching for this review, of how voice acting in Japan, which goes from anime to redubbing Western films and television, is a job which you live on and means working on any project to live. Even if it means voicing the sexy female character in the office suit here, who bust size would have had Russ Meyer, the film director famous for his obsession with them in real women he cast, raise his thumb in approval of, it is still work for pay. It is still work, even including having to talk seductively to the player at a Japanese arcade as they try to earn as many silver pachinko balls to get more from them physically. I tip my hat off to the actresses who did the work, and just wonder what the recording process for them was like even if it was banal and quickly finished with.

The game is simple – pachinko, with three stages for each female character. The first game is straight forward, whilst you get to the 1999 sequel and have more video game logic to how you progress, such as how the bonus stage, meant to unlock more images in the first game, is actually required to be accessed and finished to complete the stages. The bonus stage in both games is slot machines reels in the centre of the stages where, when you land a silver ball into the slot which starts them off, you need to get the same symbols on them to access the bonus stage, the games sometimes emphasizing the turning reels for drama. The bonus round for the first game, unlike the second, are an optional challenge, providing additional images of the female characters as prizes, multiple ones, the further levels you can reach. Additional points, alongside the vast waterfall of silver pachinko balls you can win and fill digital buckets full of, can also be won.

Even if there was not the promise of nudity, between these games is a sensory overload of colour and noise over both, even a racket in terms of noise as you spam the firing of the pachinko balls. To bring in a really esoteric reference, in 1998, German artist and musician Eckart Rahn, founder of the Kuckuck Schallplatten record label, released the ambient field recording album Pachinko in Your Head: Non-Linear Music, which is literally an hour of experiencing being sat in a pachinko parlor, something that I have come to now with a fresh perspective envisioning a hundred of these machines, minus the voiced dialogue from the on-screen characters, in a row on both side blaring in unison or off-tune to each other as the Rahn album allows you to experience. These games can be accused as still being sleazy, but the bigger accusations, alongside those uncomfortable younger female cast members, can be made in terms of this as a sugar rush of stimulus, inherently designed to sink a person’s money over a long period of time, unless you are innately (suspiciously and supernaturally) knowledgeable of how to beat a digital pachinko game.

There is a great game you could have built from this, removed from its monetary point, and this pachinko hybrid, if you were willing to commit blasphemy, would be fascinating to remake if you had more control over the silver balls you fired, like a sexy version of Peggle (2007). Even in terms of the original game, for all its accusations of sleaze, the lead for the first game is a doofus who, by the end, after even a couple of the cut scenes having him beaten up by some of the women, also becomes the boy toy for a group of women now, out of his depth The cut scenes do suggest the tone was closer to a fun sexy comedy if with tropes, also found in anime and manga, which have not aged well. A fun sexy comedy in pachinko game form with some changes, with this game franchise’s vibrant tone, would find an appreciative audience, and the second game was becoming more ambitious a mere year later, with visual novel cues, and the ability to choose different paths, between two options of a female character to play against in divergent paths. Set around a variety of locations you wander around, needing to complete the bonus games to continue on the three stages per female character, you meet anyone from a woman in an animal mascot costume, to hitting gophers for a buxom tiger woman or patrons in a cinema for an obsessive female cineaste.


Barring your plucky female friend that tags along with your faceless protagonist, who is the last figure you play against, no one else has the uncomfortable look of being young as she does, feeling less sleazy and becoming a palette cleanser as a result. Sadly however, with the turnaround time very short between the games, there is far less actual animation and a sense less production value was being spent on this sequel, despite there still being elaborate pachinko table stages as with the first game, full of noise and colour. Than this franchise became barely more than two games, as Sammy Corporation even when they continued with this genre for home console released into the 2000s stuck to tie-in franchises, moving away from original intellectual properties and the nothing of sexy pachinko as a concept elsewhere.

The two games are curiosities – technically erotic but very tame, still with questionable choices, but bright and vibrant like a sexy comedy anime from this era. Their “sexy” content is not dissimilar to what you could get in some anime and manga even into the modern day, some of which can be much worse and more possible to accuse as sexist or even misogynistic than this ever will be. Worse games too exist even on Steam, with actually pornographic content nowadays as long as it is just animated characters, which makes this, if anything, merely juvenile and silly in its breast fixation. These are weird footnotes instead, preserved from the likes of M.A.M.E. yet having (least for the first game) a lavish production design placed onto them to sell to punters, knowing their developer would forget about this premise and franchise in favour of big franchise tie-ins.

Sammy Company would move away from video games, and into the 2010s, their output was pachi-slot and pachinko games from home consoles or mobile phones. Their ideals on their official website are the likes of being “Able to provide machines equipped with innovative gameplay through outstanding development capabilities and imagination.”10, all in mind that pachinko/pachi-slot machines as an industry is one alien to video games, an industry that likely earns more than even AAA titles for video games and yet is one prominently more focused for Japanese audiences and markets open to the machines only. This is an audience of its own rather than a worldwide audience for electronic entertainment as the video game industry is, separate in its own world and why Konami got mocked for its tie-in games then actual follow ups to their beloved franchises. These two games are forgotten, items that could be dismissed because their modus operandi is sexy nudity, even if the equivalent of a topless photo spread and nothing more explicit, but their history in context is worth talking of. They are fascinating to consider even in terms of if anyone ran with their style and game play in the modern day, considering the glut of low budget erotic games you can find just on Steam itself. Their tie-in to a business in pachinko, one which, by 2021, earned 2.39 trillion Japanese yen11, is also significant in itself. This industry is a titan even larger than arguably video games will ever be in Japanese culture, and yet still felt it had to wiggle itself into video games with the likes of these two games, which is a strange concept to even consider in terms of a tale now finished for today.  

 

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1) A general introduction to gambling law in Japan, written by Anderson Mōri & Tomotsune for Lexology, published on May 11th 2022.

2) The Secret Life of Pachinko: How Japan's gaming parlors really work, written by David Kushner, and published for IEEE Spectrum on October 1st 2020.

3) Fact Book 1 (PDF) by the Fields Corporation, published February 17th 2020. p. 29. Retrieved March 17th 2020.

4) 'Castlevania' Pachinko Featuring 'Erotic Violence' Proves Konami Hates You, written by Zack Kotzer for Vice, published July 30th 2015.

5) 'Silent Hills' Is the Latest Sign that Japan Is Losing Interest in AAA Games, by Zack Kotzer for Vice, published April 28th 2015.

6) History of Pachinko, written and published for Pachinko Planet (© 2010-2023 Pachinko Planet LLC.)

7) Sega Retro's page for Sammy with its softography.

8) '90s Versus '00s Moe Character Design Examined, written by Scott Green and published by Crunchyroll on October 5th 2013.

9) This is going off the staff credits, including voices actresses, from Moby Games for accuracy.

10) The Business Outline for Sammy's corporate website (in English).

11) Gross profit generated by pachinko halls in Japan from 2013 to 2021, taken from Statista.com.