In 1998, someone gave Roland Emmerich $130,000,000 to make a Godzilla movie. This was not because Emmerich was a fan of the storied Japanese Kaiju film franchise, but rather was down to the fact that he had earned a reputation for producing popcorn spectacles in less time and with smaller budgets than other directors.
Unless you’ve been living under a rock (or have real things to worry about) you know that the venerable game maker Nintendo has been having trouble making money lately. Now, I’m not a financial analyst. And I’m not really an expert on the Japanese game development or hardware business either. In fact, I’m not even that huge of a Nintendo fan any more. I kinda don’t like those Super Mario Galaxy games. BUT! I did beat Super Mario Brothers 3 back in the day (and I have a column due) so I’m pretty sure that makes me qualified to opine
I’m 30 years old, sitting in a basement jam space in the worst part of Vancouver. My best friends conveniently form a band. Sitting in on practice is the best way to see them all at the same time. Despite the mildew and cigarette smoke slowly choking the life from me, this is one of my favorite places in the world.
You are walking up a mountain path. The midday sun shines high on a quilt of endless blue. Twigs crunch underfoot as you proceed ever higher. Fallen trees and rocks offer momentary diversions to clamber over. Somewhere among the trees deers are grazing. Finally upon reaching the summit, the massive expanse of the land rolls out beneath you, seeking out the horizon. Not far off the city sits serenely; the hustle and bustle of thousands of lives is temporarily hidden.
If I was a bat – like a real live, nocturnal, flying mammal who navigates the sky with the help of sonar – I’d have real problems with the way my species was portrayed in videogames. I mean, movies already give bats a bad name. You’d think all bats do is fly noisily out of caves, like a cloud of vermin sending the womenfolk into a tizzy. Never mind the vital ecological contributions of plant pollination and seed dispersal that bats do every day with nary a “thank you.”
