Through the first two episodes of Community's return to the airwaves, I hadn't really bothered to concern myself with the flipped order in which they aired. Aside from the awkward "welcome back" scene that opened up the second episode (instead of the first), it really hadn't seemed to matter. Then Thursday's episode, "Digital Exploration of Interior Design", aired, and it suffered for the first two episodes having been flipped.
First, there was the Subway plot. A Subway sandwich shop opened in the "cafetorium", and to comply with the school bylaws the company had to get a person to legally change his name to "Subway" and become the human personification of a corporation. That led to hilarity between Subway (the person) and Britta (the anti-corporation crusader who fell in love with Subway The Person). It was a plot that was clearly designed to directly follow the Subway conclusion to "Urban Matrimony and the Sandwich Arts", both in terms of the direct Subway references and in Britta's general identity confusion.
But more disconcerting was the Troy and Abed plot, and how it was affected by airing directly after "Contemporary Impressionists". The ending of the previous episode was, well, as Abed put it, "inaccessible and maybe too dark", and a lot of that stemmed from the argument between Troy and Abed. If the episodes had aired in their intended order, than the Troy/Abed hijinks of "Urban Matrimony" would have served as a darkness buffer between two episodes that saw Troy and Abed at odds with each other rather than teaming up.
Obviously "Contemporary Impressionists" laid the groundwork for continued Troy/Abed conflict, with this episode taking it in a sillier direction with the blanket fort/pillow fort debate. What's interesting is that for two-plus seasons, Troy has basically subjugated his previous identity (popular jock) to better conform to Abed, who has regularly proven himself superior to Troy in multiple aspects of life and thus essentially dominates their friendship. Troy has rebelled against this in the past, most notably in Season 2's "Epidemiology", but now that conflict is coming to the forefront, as Troy no longer feels like his entire life should be up to Abed's whims.
It reminds me a bit of the conflict between -- and stay with me here -- Regina George and Gretchen Wieners in "Mean Girls." When Troy stands up to Abed, forcing him to destroy the pillow fort, it's like Gretchen giving her "Brutus" speech. And when Abed tells Troy, "I shouldn't have to compromise my craftsmanship to placate mediocrity," he's basically telling Troy to stop trying to make "fetch" happen. There's even an outsider with ulterior motives secretly spurring both of them along, driving a wedge between them for nefarious purposes, which I guess in this analogy makes Vice Dean Laybourne the Cady Heron to Troy and Abed.
Oh, also, there was a plot with Jeff and Annie and some guy named Kim. I guess I'm being as inconsiderate to that plot as Jeff was to Kim, but the Troy/Abed thing was the biggest thing in this episode to me. And as interesting as it was, it was definitely really crazy. And inaccessible. And maybe too dark. Which, I think, is kind of how I want my "Community".
Six months after the events of Issue #19, Phoebe is giving birth to her baby (Parker, a girl) in a world that is very different from the one we last saw. All mortals now have magic, including Henry and Henry Jr. (that Epilogue to Issue #19 makes more sense now), while all previously magical beings do not. The government is hunting down all non-magic users, meaning the Charmed Ones have to hide/pretend they still have powers.
The world at large looks very different, as mortals use their magic without consequence or understanding, including Mrs. Javitz, a nosy neighbor of the Charmed Ones. Elise even says all the paper is covering are magical stories.
A leprechaun shows up and explains that it's not just the Charmed Ones. All magical beings are cut off from magic, leaving him stranded while the rest of the leprechauns are on the other side of the rainbow. Coop is also unable to contact anyone at Cupid's temple.
The whole gang gathers in the manor, and decide they need to use what's available to them to solve this -- after they "fix" the manor. Elise and Henry spice up the look so it "fits in" with the rest of the street. Piper says she's convinced Rennek -- who they haven't heard from since he kidnapped Leo -- has something evil planned, but he's busy getting some sun on the beach and being fed grapes and fanned by a pair of demons.
REVIEW
Story
OK, I think it goes without saying that this is the strangest, most confusing issue of "Charmed" to date. I kept waiting for the story to be some kind of premonition Phoebe was having or flash back to "how we got here", but they really just plowed ahead with the six month time jump and progressed the story from there.
In search of new revenue streams, the NBA is reportedly considering allowing teams to sell advertising space on their on-court jerseys -- a common practice in European sports but unprecedented in the major North American leagues (not including the tacky advertising logos that appeared on MLB jerseys and helmets during the faux Opening Day games played in Japan).
Mavericks owner Mark Cuban, while saying that a sponsor logo will not replace "Dallas" or "Mavericks" on the front of the jersey, essentially said that everything has its price, and for the right price, this will happen.
But what is that price? Cuban throws out two numbers in his interview with Dwain Price, saying that $200,000 isn't going to get it done, but "if somebody offers us $25 million, it's done."
The reality, however, is that somebody already offered $25 million, and it's not done.
Back in 2006, Adidas signed on to be the official apparel provider of the NBA, replacing the league's previous deal with Reebok (a company Adidas had previously acquired). The deal with the NBA reportedly cost Adidas in excess of $400 million over 11 years.
The deal included a lot of benefits for Adidas, making the company the sole provider of in-game and practice gear for the NBA and WNBA. They're the only company allowed to sell NBA jerseys, and the primary provider of NBA-branded apparel (non-Adidas apparel can be sold, but has to be approved by the NBA on a case-by-case basis).
Wanna know what Adidas didn't get? Just take a look at an authentic NBA jersey. Where's the Adidas logo? If you said "not there"... well, technically, you're incorrect. The only place Adidas is allowed to place its logo on the jersey is on the tag, which doesn't appear when the jersey is tucked in (and you wondered why the NBA was so stringent when it comes to players having their jerseys tucked in at all times). The logo isn't visible on the on-court shorts either. Or headbands. Or socks.
(Yes, the Adidas logo is visible on Dwight Howard's elbow sleeves, but that's because the sleeve is a personal endorsement product, not a league-wide apparel product. The Nike logo appears on LeBron James's sleeve.)
Adidas pays the NBA $1.2 million dollars per team per season to outfit each team in its gear, and you'd have no idea just from watching the on-court product.
So the price for a sponsor to be able to put its logo on a team's jersey has to AT LEAST be higher than that. AND once the NBA opens up the jersey to sponsors, it probably has to open them up to Adidas too, and then you start to get into a situation where the jersey starts to look like a NASCAR jumpsuit -- or at least a cluttered NCAA jersey (check out this Michigan State jersey with a maker's mark, NCAA logo, American flag and neck logo).
I go back to what commissioner David Stern said when the Adidas deal was signed in 2006, regarding putting Adidas's logo on the jersey: "Having only the team logo and the NBA logo helps reinforce our brand. I won't say it's a 'forever' policy; but right now, those are the only marks that appear on the NBA uniform."
I understand things have changed in six years, particularly regarding the financial health in the league, but I hope this is something that doesn't change. Call me a purist or an idealist or an idiot, but when I buy a Miami Heat jersey, I'm buying a Miami Heat jersey, not a "Miami Heat jersey by Adidas" and definitely not a "Miami Heat jersey by Adidas brought to you by Sheets Brand Energy Strips". If Cuban is right, and this is truly inevitable, then I understand. I just know that when it does, my jersey buying days will finally be over.
Last week, I shared some of my initial thoughts on "Mass Effect 3", obviously leaving out any reaction to the ending, which I hadn't reached yet but the Internet had already gone batshit over.
Even after hearing lots of "Oh my God that was the worst ending in the history of endings", I plowed forward, wanting to experience it for myself. Heading into the final chapter of the game, I expected three things from the ending:
1. Shepard would die. Bioware has been pretty clear that this is the end of the "Mass Effect" saga, and the only way that ends without any serious calls for more sequels is if the main character dies.
2. The war with the Reapers ends definitively. I didn't have any expectation whether the outcome would be positive or negative, but I did expect that there would be an ending to this whole "cycle" thing the game has been talking about for awhile.
3. The ending would take into account the various choices I'd made throughout the game -- well, more accurately, games plural -- and show the impact of those decisions on the fate of the galaxy.
On my first two expectations, the ending delivered. But honestly, those were easy to meet. It was the third expectation that had really been established throughout the 200+ hours I'd put into this series, and it's the one that wasn't met at all, which left me... well, not angry, or bitter, or threatening lawsuits. Instead, I just felt let down, knowing that I really could have played the game any way, and I still would have been confronted with the exact same outcome.
Note: from this point on, there are spoilers regarding the ending of "Mass Effect 3". If you don't want to be spoiled, or you've already played the game and don't want to experience a flare-up of PTSD, then stop reading here. Otherwise, continue after the jump.
I've been down on this season of "How I Met Your Mother", mostly because I've felt the show has struggled to strike a balancing between the silly comedy it used to be and the grown-up maturity it's trying to find. Mostly, the former has felt out of place, as the latter deviated further into a depressing malaise (a path the show started on with last season's "Bad News").
However, Monday's episode, "The Broath", seemed to finally find the perfect mix, feeling funny but not incongruous, mature but not depressing, and even twist-y without being formulaic.
The primary driving plot of the episode was Barney introducing his new girlfriend Quinn to his friends, who would inevitably judge her for being a stripper. Barney made Ted swear a bro oath -- a "broath" -- to not tell them, which Ted immediately broke. A disastrous first meeting followed, and the gang held an intervention -- no, a "Quinntervention*" -- for Barney. And when Quinn walked in on that, she was offended... not by the intervention, but that Barney felt he needed to hide the fact that she was a stripper. So she walked out on him.
Only... TWIST! The whole thing, from the broath to the bad first meeting to the reaction to the intervention to the "break up" were all staged, a plot hatched by Quinn and Barney to mess with Barney's friends. The twists on HIMYM have been so predictable for so long that it was quite refreshing to get one that I really honestly did not see coming. And it wasn't a twist for twist's sake; the reveal showed that Quinn may in fact be the perfect woman for Barney.
As it is, Barney's maturation over the last couple seasons has come in fits and spurts, and sometimes felt wholly out of place with the character. This was different, particularly once it got to the end of the episode. It really felt like Barney was growing up, both with his reaction to the Quinntervention then with his aside scenes with Quinn, and it wasn't painful to watch (unlike "Karma", which subverted Barney in an unnaturally frustrating way).
The gag about Marshall's sex stories about Lily was a touch repetitive, but not so much so to distract from the rest of the happenings. And while Ted and Robin continue to be downers, seeing them attempt to compete with each other for Quinn's apartment was a solid distraction for awhile. The lingering thread the episode left with Ted and Robin could end up putting a damper on the rest of this season, but it wasn't enough to take away from what was otherwise a really entertaining episode, the first in a long time that I enjoyed from start to finish.
*I can't imagine Marshall's repeated "Quinn" puns in the intervention scene were a direct reference to the Jeremy Lin puns of "Linsanity", because that'd be really tough for them to have turned around from real-world phenomenon to referential script to air in six weeks, but it added a layer to the joke that made what could've been annoying extra-hilarious instead.
The NBA trade deadline passed last week, and Dwight Howard is still a member of the Orlando Magic. He even waived his opt-out clause, making it possible that he'll remain a member of the Magic through the 2012-13 season, meaning this jersey avoids being outdated just a little bit longer.
I bought this Howard authentic jersey at the 2009 NBA Finals in Orlando, extending a dubious streak. Each year from 2007-2009, I attended the Finals, and each year I bought a jersey of one of the teams playing and each year that team lost the series.
The streak started in 2007, though technically by the time I got to Cleveland, the series was already over. I had a ticket for Game 5, in a series that ended in 4. Still, I bought a LeBron jersey while I was out there, despite the fact the Cavs had lost the series.
In 2008, I bought a Kobe Bryant jersey before Game 4 of the series between the Lakers and Celtics. And for awhile it looked like that might work out, but the Lakers blew a big lead in Game 4 and ended up losing the series in 6.
I bought this Howard jersey before Game 3, the only game of the series the Magic won. Still, this serves as a much better representative of Orlando in my jersey collection than my Tracy McGrady jersey or my Penny Hardaway Team USA jersey.
Jersey Monday will continue every Monday until I run out of jerseys to spotlight. And since I’ve got more than 190 of them, that could be awhile (assuming I remember to blog regularly again).
Sideshow's latest premium format statue from its X-Men line arrived this week. Once again, I received the exclusive edition, which is limited to 750 pieces and is sold out on Sideshow's site. The premium format comes with an exclusive art print and a switch-out portrait, featuring what Sideshow calls the "classic '90s hairstyle."
There are three switch-out elements on this statue, assuming you get the exclusive edition. In addition to the head, there are two options for the right arm (sword and psionic blast) and two options for her waistband (X-Men logo belt and sash). If you go through the gallery below, you'll see all eight possible combinations.
The status itself is well done, though once again this is a premium format statue with decidedly little cloth clothing. Psylocke's boots, leg wraps, gloves and arm wraps are all sculpted on. This makes for a more consistently accurate look, but is a little disappointing considering that the real material clothing used to be one of the big things that separated the premium format line from the comiquette line.
As it is, the big thing that continues to separate those two lines is size. Check out this side-by-side of the Psylocke comiquette and the premium format:
Yes, the comiquette does have Psylock in a slightly seated position, but it's still pretty clear that the premium format dwarfs the comiquette. Sideshow lists the premium format as being 22.5 inches high, but that includes the base and the extra height from the psionic attachement. From head to toe, she's more like 17 inches tall, while comiquette Psylocke is closer to 13.5, adjusting for the seated position.
Comparing the facial portraits, I'd have to say the premium format is a huge improvement over the comiquette, no matter which of the two heads you choose to display on the premium format. And while the torso is the only cloth element on the piece, the way it reflects light makes the color incredibly vibrant.
The regular edition of the Psylocke premium format statue is still available for pre-order at Sideshow for $299.99. That may seem steep, but it's only $35 more than the comiquette cost (though obviously the comiquette came with a much more elaborate base than the premium format). If you already have the comiquette, you have to decide how much shelf space you want to dedicate to Psylocke. If you skipped the comiquette, then I'd say go right ahead and jump on this one, since it probably won't be available long. Sideshow's premium format statues are always an eye-catcher, and this one is no exception.
Let's try to make this as quick as possible to get to the big moment at the end... (oh, and spoilers, obviously)
Buffy's roommates vote to let her stay in the apartment, but her stuff is already boxed up and she's moving into Spike's spaceship. She still wants a normal life -- despite Spike and his spaceship being as far from normal as possible.
Dowling comes across a nest of zompires and calls Spike for help, before locking himself behind a door to stay safe (temporarily). Spike keeps Buffy out of the fight to protect her, and jumps from the ship to the fight. He takes out a bunch of them. Dowling is in a tower, and the zompires climb to get to him, which motivates Buffy to enter the fray.
While they're fighting the zompires, they banter, and Dowling says its obvious that Spike still loves Buffy. Buffy gets Dowling safely on the ship, then jumps down to continue the fight. She takes out the nest, then asks Spike if he's still in love with her. He does, and he wants more than what they have -- he wants a normal life with Buffy. While he's making this confession, a stray zompire rips off Buffy's right arm. Spike stakes it and picks up the arm, which is mechanical, as is Buffy's shoulder socket. Buffy is confused, because she thinks she's her (not a Buffybot), and slowly comes to the realization that she's "a f$£@ing robot!"
REVIEW
Story
First, this feels appropriate here:
OK, now with that out of the way... WHAT THE FUCK?!
When I sat down to watch this week's episode of "Community" -- the first to air in 2012 -- I had high expectations. I was hoping for another "Remedial Chaos Theory" or at least a "Foosball and Nocturnal Vigilantism". Instead, this episode -- "Urban Matrimony and the Sandwich Arts" -- was probably more along the lines of a "The Psychology of Letting Go": a little more grounded, a little bit character building and overall quite average. Not bad, just... average.
The main story focused on Shirley and Andre's re-marriage, with three supporting stories:
- Pierce has been fired from Hawthorne Wipes, and tries to re-make himself as an entrepreneur (complete with Gordon Gekko look), so he tries to get Shirley to set up a sandwich shop in the school cafeteria.
- Britta and Jeff hate the whole idea of marriage and think Shirley shouldn't get remarried, which makes it hard for them to support her
- Troy and Abed don't want to ruin Shirley's wedding by being weird, so they "de-whismify" themselves and act normal (which, for them, comes off as even weirder).
The main problem with the episode, as far as I was concerned, was that I just don't care about Shirley and Andre. I'd honestly assumed they'd already just gotten remarried off screen (Shirley even makes reference to being a "married woman" in "Remedial Chaos Theory") and could've done without a wedding episode. The eventual plot path did serve to add significant depth to Andre's character, but I'm not sure a character who shows up a couple times a season really needed that depth. And while his Boyz II Men proposal was awesome, he didn't really do anything memorable for the rest of the episode.
The basics of the Britta and Jeff storyline have been done plenty of times before, but at least this week they were used to provide twists for each of the characters. Britta, as it turns out, is really good at weddings, much to her disgust. It goes against everything she stands for, but she thinks because she's so good at it, that it's in her DNA to become nothing more than a wife and a mother (which Shirley thankfully explains at the end is so not true). Jeff, meanwhile, has an emotional breakthrough after agonizing over a toast for Shirley, admitting that he hates marriage because his father left his mother. It was another solid character moment, but nothing we couldn't have already inferred.
I really wish the episode had spent more time exploring the Troy and Abed thing. A de-whimsied duo could have been used for a lot more than just the wedding scene. The little bit we got of it was great, but it felt like an idea that could've really been an "A" story for an episode, instead of a "B" or "C". Also, while the Pierce tag was funny, I really would've love a Troy & Abed in the morning tag. It would've felt right after all this time away.
All that said, an average episode of "Community" is better than the majority of what's on TV, and there were four solid laugh-out-loud moments for me in this one.
- When Britta started her wedding rant, Annie responded "you're anti-wedding now?" Jeff's response: "No, she's just pro-'anti'." PHENOMENAL.
- The visual gag of Jeff searching his heart. I'm gonna need someone to catalog all the images that came up. Annie was definitely in there more than once, as were Annie's boobs (and I don't mean the monkey).
- Annie's disgust at Jeff using "Webster's defines..." to begin his toast. This worked for me on two levels. First, it was a solid Jim Belushi dig. But secondly, I cannot STAND when someone uses that hackneyed lead to start something. It's terrible, and it's basically saying "I have no idea what to write to start this." If you sit down to write something, and you start with "Webster's defines...", just delete your entire first paragraph. It's likely that your second one is a re-introduction to the actual point you're trying to make, and it couldn't possibly suck any worse.
- Pierce's racist security camera. Easy joke. Funny.
Lastly, Dean Pelton telling Shirley that the board loved her sandwich shop idea, but they were putting in a Subway instead was a nice little twist there. I don't know if it was straight product placement, just a solid real-world mention or even a bit of a "tip of the cap/take that" directed at "Chuck", but the way Dean Pelton delivered the news was solid.
In just a few hours, the darkest timeline will finally come to an end, and "Community" will return to the airwaves, at 8 ET on NBC. In honor of the show's return on the 15th, I've decided to pick my 15 favorite episodes (out of the 59 that have aired so far). I'm sure many "Community" fans will have their own favorites in their own order, so feel free to yell at me for ranking your favorites too low or leaving them off my list entirely.
Some episodes it killed me to leave off: "Beginner Pottery", "Basic Rocket Science", "Mixology Certification", "Horror Fiction in Seven Spooky Steps" and "Documentary Filmmaking: Redux". And all the other episodes that didn't make the list.
15. "Regional Holiday Music"(S3, ep. 10)
When I first watched this episode, I thought it was 2/3 great, 1/3 mediocre, but the entire thing has grown on me since it aired. Maybe because it was the last episode before the hiatus. We'll have to see how it holds up once new episodes start airing again.
14. "Foosball and Nocturnal Vigilantism" (S3, ep. 9)
Each season, "Community" has delivered something special with its ninth episode, and Season 3 was no exception. The anime foosball segment takes this episode up from just "really good" to "spectacular".
13. "Critical Film Studies" (S2, ep. 19)
This episode is phenomenal on its own, but is made so much better by Danny Pudi's actual cameo in the season finale of "Cougar Town", an event referenced by Abed within this episode. My favorite part of the actual episode has to be when Abed's plan unravels, and Jeff flips out, realizing Abed's "real conversation" was just another pop culture reference.
12. "Contemporary American Poultry"(S1, ep. 21)
Speaking of pop culture references, this episode is an homage to "Goodfellas", wrapped around a story about chicken fingers. The episode is fantastic from start to finish, plus it gave us "Annie's Boobs".
Paige and Henry find out that their "adopted" baby is the biological son of the youngest member of the Mercer Crime family. They don't want to give the baby to the father, at least not if he's involved in his family's criminal past. So Paige conjures a private detective, Richard Quinn, from an old pulp novel to investigate. He comes from the book into the real world in black and white (with an attitude to match), so Paige has to use makeup to make him presentable.
Quinn and Paige break into the older Mercer's office, but find nothing on his computers and the Mercers catch them in the office, but let them go. Quinn and Paige catch the younger Mercer (Henry Jr.'s biological father) outside the office and Quinn sets him up on a date with Paige. Before the date they head back to the manor, where the attic is now black and white (and it's spreading). Paige gets Phoebe and Piper to agree to let Quinn stay to help her out for the night, but then they have to send him back.
Paige shows up for the date, where Christopher shows off artwork of his father's first laundered bill and a tattoo with a mark for each person he's "disappeared". She drugs his drink, and he passes out, giving Paige the opportunity to call Quinn. He breaks into the wall safe (hidden behind the art, obviously), and takes a flash drive, which he downloads to a laptop. Christopher wakes up, Paige blows him off and heads back to the manor, where SHE is now in black and white.
Quinn, meanwhile, hasn't gone to the cops with the evidence, and calls Paige to make a deal: he wants to stay in the "real" world permanently, and if Paige makes that happen, he'll give her the computer. She tells him to meet them at the manor in an hour, then tells her sisters she has a plan. Quinn arrives and heads to the attic. Paige, back in color, casts the spell, and Quinn wipes the makeup off, but is still in color. Satisfied that it worked, he hands over the laptop, at which point black and white Paige emerges and un-glamours Henry, who was pretending to be Paige. Because Henry isn't magic, the spell didn't work, and Paige uses a potion to send an un-glamoured, black & white Quinn back into the book.
With the evidence from the laptop, the police will be able send the Mercers away for life, giving Paige and Henry custody of Henry Jr. The End.
Oh, but wait, there's more...
In a one-page epilogue, Paige says she's happy Henry Jr., a mortal child, will have a mortal role model in Henry. But he blasts his crib, freezing everything in there (like ice freeze, not Piper-style molecular freeze). Baby hi-jinx!
It's been a week since "Mass Effect 3" came out, and I've spent pretty much every free moment since then* playing the game. I haven't finished it yet -- I still go to work during the day and sleep a little bit at night -- so I'm not going to comment on the ending other than to say no matter how bad it is, it couldn't possibly be worse than KoToR 2.
I'm also not going to have any extended comment on the multiplayer, since I haven't touched it and don't plan on it. I don't even have Xbox Live Gold, and I've never been a fan of shooter multiplayers. I know that playing the multiplayer can have an impact on the single player campaign, and I was all ready to be pissed about that, but my galactic readiness is high enough that I don't even need to concern myself with it.
Now that the stuff I'm not talking about is out of the way, let's get to the stuff I do want to talk about.
Day One DLC
Before the controversy over the ending, this was the thing everyone was losing their shit over. My first thought when I heard about it was "I don't care, I got the collector's edition" which was true, but selfish. Playing the game, I've come to realize how integral Javik -- the Prothean character included in the DLC -- is to the storyline. Obviously everyone plays "Mass Effect 3" in their own unique way based on which characters survived previous games and which ones are used on particular missions, but I couldn't imagine playing the Thessia mission (not part of the DLC, but a core storyline event) without Javik.
Along those lines, let's talk about...
MY ME3 Story
The "Mass Effect" franchise has been incredible ambitious in terms of establishing a continuing story, with events that happened in ME1 having an impact on the story of ME3. For someone like me, who has a single continuing save file that's carried through all three games*, this is huge, and completely shapes the overall experience.
Aside from making it incredibly difficult to talk about the story of the game with someone else who's playing, it ramps up the emotional attachment to the characters. When I saw Ashley for the first time in this game, my reaction wasn't "oh yeah, I remember her from the other games" it was, "Right... Ashley... because I let Kaiden die." I worked so tirelessly in ME2 to have everyone survive the suicide mission, and it was awesome as each of them showed up in ME3. So when Mordin and Legion ended up sacrificing themselves for the greater good, it hurt even more.
And then there was Kelly Chambers. I'd saved her at the end of ME2, and was pleasantly surprised to see her again in ME3 (and she saved my fish!). I had the conversation with her and figured that was the end of her involvement with the game. Then, after the Cerberus raid on the Citadel, I overheard the conversation about her being killed, and realized it was my fault for not telling her to go into hiding. It made me feel like crap and pissed me off, but in a good way. I didn't think a video game could produce that kind of emotional response.
In general, knowing that this was the last piece in an ongoing story shaped many of my decisions. When I played ME1, I knew my choices would carry over to ME2, but I didn't put much thought into those choices (except for when I saved before the Kaiden/Ashley decision, in case I decided to backtrack on it). I took more care in ME2, with the notable exception of my relationship. I was with Liara in ME1, but when she showed up on Illium in ME2 and wasn't recruit-able, I moved forward with a relationship with Thane, not even considering the possibility that Liara would come back into the picture in ME3. That led to one very awkward conversation at the beginning of the game, where I ditched Thane and got back with Liara, thinking Thane was dead. Only, then HE WASN'T DEAD. More awkwardness!
Eventually I talked with Thane, but ignored the option to go somewhere private with him, and then he died anyway, and I barely felt sad about it (God, I felt sadder about Kelly than I did about Thane... WTF?!). I also played dumb when Specialist Traynor was trying to get me in the shower with her, which I'm pretty sure makes me a tease since I'd led her along the entire time up to that point. Either way, my Shep is with Liara now, and that's the way it's supposed to be (that's also the point at which I left off in my last gaming session: the final romantic encounter before the assault on Cerberus).
Actual Gameplay Mechanics
About a week before ME3 came out, I read this great piece about the huge interface problems with the original Mass Effect, and all the things I hated about playing the actual game came rushing back to me.
Many of those problems still exist in ME3, and they can at times be frustrating as hell. In particular, I found it incredible hard to monitor the health of my two teammates, and pretty much just fell into a pattern of "let them die during a battle and only resurrect them with First Aid if the enemies overwhelm me." I know that's probably not the best strategy, but it seems to have worked out so far. It also took me awhile to get back into the swing of telling my teammates to use powers or grenades, since the "pausing to pull up the wheel in the middle of the fight" mechanic has always seemed a bit awkward.
The "inventory" system is something of a hybrid of the unmanageable mess of ME1 and the non-existent system of ME2, and it still pretty much sucks. There's no unified inventory (as was the case in ME2); you just have weapons, upgrades and armor. Once again, each gun has 10 levels of advancement, bringing back the fun roman numerals from ME1, but you can't have multiple levels of the same gun. If you upgrade your a particular shotgun from I to II, everyone in your party has access to that upgrade. That's a nice improvement from the previous games, not having to worry about multiple copies of upgraded guns. They've also made it easier to compare the different options available to you during loadout, but that comparison disappears when you're doing the upgrades, unnecessarily complicating things.
Fortunately for me, the collector's edition came with a pretty impressive set of guns, and those were the ones I focused on upgrading early, before picking up some more powerful equipment later in the game. I didn't do much shopping, since most of the guns and upgrades were available as pick ups on levels, and I could never tell in the store interface if an upgrade was a duplicate or improvement on something I already had (another problem with hiding the inventory).
My Shepard is an "adept", so I rely heavily on biotic powers, and it took awhile to get used to the fact that enemies in this game were much better at dodging them than in past games. But that's a significant strategic improvement, one that didn't go unappreciated by me. It's nice to see the third installment of the game make things harder in a way that isn't just "more enemies" and "enemies with more hit points".
Other miscellaneous thoughts
- Loading screens can go fuck themselves. Seriously, this, more than any other innovation, needs to be the primary focus of next-gen console makers. Having to sit and watch a 20-second loading screen between every level of the Citadel -- even with the beautiful artwork they used instead of those redundant framework graphics from ME2 -- made me want to throw something through my TV. And don't even get me started on disc switching (an unfortunate necessity on the lower-capacity Xbox 360 discs).
- I got ME1 after ME2 was actually released, so I was able to play through with the content complete. With ME2, I actually left my game in a holding pattern for awhile because I knew DLC was on the way (I had ME2 for a few months before I started playing because I needed to play through ME1 first). However, I'm at the point in ME3 where I can't just leave it sitting around waiting for DLC that may or may not come, so it looks like a second playthrough is in the cards. KELLY, I'M COMING TO SAVE YOU!
- I liked planet scanning so much more in this game than in ME2, and the added involvement of the Reapers gave it a sense of urgency, rather than the endless tedium of ME2's element scanning.
- The Joker/EDI relationship creeps me out. That is all.
- The new character, James, annoyed me at first but grew on me as the game progressed.
- As I mentioned, I got the collector's edition, and I really enjoyed the in-game benefits and the steelbook case. The art book would have been cool too, except I got the full-sized "Art of the Mass Effect Universe" book, which has the same content plus much more. I haven't downloaded the soundtrack yet, so I can't say whether it's good or not.
- Once I get to the ending I'm sure I'll post some thoughts on it, but my main thought it that I'm just going to be sad that this whole saga is over. "Mass Effect" is the only reason I still own an Xbox 360 (after playing through ME1 multiple times, there was no way I was ditching all those choices to switch to ME2 on PS3), and I feel such a connection with the game, that it's just going to feel weird that it's all over.
*Well, technically every free moment since Wednesday after the Heat game, since I missed the UPS delivery on Tuesday and had to pick it up a day later, and I couldn't watch the basketball on my AppleTV, since it wasn't available on League Pass. But pretty much every moment since then.
*I, however, did not encounter the face import bug, since I'd changed my Shepard's look between 1 and 2. I hated how I'd set up the custom face in 1, and the Cerberus rebuild at the start of 2 was the perfect in-game excuse to rebuild.
You may have heard, the Redskins made a pretty big trade, moving up to the No. 2 pick to likely draft Robert Griffin III, finally solving their quarterback problems forever. Just like in 2004 when they traded for Clinton Portis, solving their running back problems forever.
Oh, wait, that's not how that worked out at all. Portis is now out of the league, and the player traded for him -- Champ Bailey -- is still going strong in Denver.
OK, so it wasn't exactly like that. Portis had some pretty good years in Washington before his legs gave out on him, including a 1,500-yard season in 2005 and a 1,400-yard season in 2008, the last non-losing season for the Redskins. Despite having been traded for Bailey, who was my favorite player on that teams, Portis became one of my favorite Redskins, in part because of his Miami ties (I have a general affinity for players from the '00-04 era Hurricanes).
Since Portis didn't play at all last season, and wasn't entirely productive the previous two, this jersey hasn't gotten much run in recent years. Hopefully a new RG III jersey will get a little more life out of it -- like say 12 years and a couple Lombardi Trophies.
Jersey Monday will continue every Monday until I run out of jerseys to spotlight. And since I’ve got more than 190 of them, that could be awhile (assuming I remember to blog regularly again).
