Showing posts with label Criminal Intent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Criminal Intent. Show all posts

Friday, July 19, 2019

Not Evil, but Spectacular

We should have a (spoiler-free) discussion about the song "Not Evil," from Lego Movie 2, because it is a triumph:

 

This song is an amazing success precisely because it's a ridiculous failure. Queen Watevra Wa'Nabi’s message is hopelessly broken.

  1. If the queen is good, skeptics will never take her word for it — she keeps talking about evil, imprisonment, and execution. 
  2. If the queen is evil, skeptics will never fall for her lies — she can't stop herself from talking about evil, imprisonment, and execution. 

In either case, her obsession with evil makes her more relatable. She's just like us!

Crafty rogues have entertained people for centuries, because being good is boring. The Book of Swindles was written during the Ming Dynasty in China. Reviewer Rob Moore wrote that “the success of the collection upon its publication in 1617 demonstrates that the author knew too well that the only thing better than alerting the reader to nefarious criminals is to let them in on the crime.”

Consider how many games let you be bad, knowing that your actions are wrong but letting you do them anyway. It can be as explicit as Grand Theft Auto, or as low key as a game like Donut County. The opening sequence of Donut County establishes that it is especially self-aware, as game designer Andrew Plotkin explained:

"it establishes right off that dropping people into holes is (a) wrong and (b) what you’re going to do all game long and (c) way fun. This is kind of brilliant." 

Back to Lego Movie 2. During the song, the queen engages in a bunch of questionable behavior that makes it impossible to tell whether she’s welcoming her guests or menacing them. (You can find similar behavior online: someone who is using the word “ally” to describe themselves hasn't made their creepy behavior any less creepy.)

Saying “This is X” is different from saying "This is not Y." What does “not evil” mean, anyway? In the classic D&D table of alignments, you’ve only ruled out three alignments, or less than half of the available options.
But it takes more than clever writing for the Lego sequence to work.

The conflicting messages would be a waste of time if they were delivered with less energy; it would fail if the “good” parts weren’t trying hard to be believable, or the “evil” parts weren’t appropriately suspect. Tiffany Haddish absolutely nails it at both extremes of the spectrum.

Listen to the (believably!) self-righteous way she announces “I never lie!” This is in the same song where she gives away an entire planet. Compare that tone to the way she lists off adjectives that people use to describe her. Ask yourself if someone completely innocent would have nearly as much fun reciting those words.

The whole thing is amazing.

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Meeting Eric Bogosian

Eric Bogosian.

The man has to restrain the loose-cannon antics of Mike Logan and Bobby Whatshisface on a weekly basis. He dared to hijack a train while Steven Segal was on board. And I’m in the same building with him. I can get his autograph, if I grab something quick for lunch and rush over to his book signing* before I have to get back to my exhibition booth.

The nearest place to eat is selling “chicken kebabs,” fist sized knots of chicken gristle that crouch defensively on a bed of rice, aggressively foiling any attempt to cut them with the flimsy plastic utensils provided. My efforts to eat them aren’t pretty, and I’m still struggling with them while on my way to Eric’s booth, because I don’t have much time. I get a place in line, still chewing.

Suddenly, the last person in front of me has moved away, and I am staring at Eric Bogosian with a mouth too full of surprise and chicken gristle to speak. I smile, trying to show that I am both happy to meet him and unable to talk. Afraid that this isn’t getting the message across, I add a little wave. I fight to clear my mouth so that I don’t end up choking physically as badly as I am choking socially. Smiling, chewing, and waving at the same time, I hope that he won't think I'm having a seizure. It’s too late to keep him from thinking that I’m suffering from some kind of brain damage.

He graces me with the smile that he has practiced with his agent. "Hello," he begins, pausing while his eyes scan downwards towards my ID badge, "...Peter."

He sounds exactly as he does on camera. World-weary, detached, and cynical, leavened with a hint of slightly-amused sarcasm. And then I realize that he just read my nametag.

Eric Bogosian just read my nametag!

ERIC BOGOSIAN CAN READ!

AND HE READ MY NAMETAG!

I am beside myself with excitement, and a burst of adrenaline wrenches the chicken down my throat. Now that I can speak, I want to ask if he’s holding a grudge against Casey Ryback for ruining his plans, or if he’s due back at the station to tell the commissioner why there haven’t been any breaks on the case. Instead, I request an autograph.

Hesitantly, I ask, "Can you make it out to my wife, Jennifer?" He complies, and I am even able to get my picture taken with him.

On the trip home, my pictures are ruined by airport x-ray machines, and I am left with 27 hazy photos of blackness, one of which bears a glimpse of a giant inflatable cow. There is no trace of Eric Bogosian on the film.

At least I have my wife's book, which has been inscribed:

To Jnnmql -

Trnml yrrmf
hlsmnfrl.

E_B&wmn

The man's handwriting is as wild and unkempt as his hair.







* Talk Radio, published by Theater Communications Group ISBN 978-1-55936-324-2.
I got your back, Eric.