We begin mid-conversation between scientist Seth Brundel (Jeff Goldblum) and reporter Veronica Quaife (Geena Davis) at an expo for researchers and inventors. Seth nonchalantly mentions that unlike the others, his invention will transform the world. Though she should exercise caution, Veronica is intrigued and brings back the mysterious and awkward Seth back to his place. Her doubts are soon shorn when he demonstrates his teleportation pods are not a gimmick. It’s a reality, that if publicized, would change the transportation world.

The only hiccup is that device cannot process “the flesh,” metaphorically and literally. Living material is not able to teleport successively. After Veronica helps him understand the flesh through connection, he’s able to solve the conundrum. Soon after though, this connection to another human leads to the sticky business of emotions that Seth has shut off for years. With a flare-up of anger and jealousy, he commits an error of judgement. The results are a genetic abomination and a tragedy for both.

Cronenberg’s most commercially and critically acclaimed film was surprise hit for 1986. Previous science-fiction horror remakes such as John Carpenter’s The Thing had lackluster response from both the audience and critics at the time. One would likely have predicted that the grisly fly transformation effects and dour ending would’ve dampened the box office. Instead, people praised the make-up. They also seemed to relate to the story of losing a loved one to a terminal disease, even with it wrapped in a fantastical package. The world seems to have changed much from 1982.

The relationship between Seth and Veronica is a draw for audiences, especially for those more inclined to dismiss the horror and science fiction genres as juvenile, or even worse, as junk. We don’t know what to feel when we first come across Seth. He’s not conventionally attractive per Hollywood standards, though there’s a spark of charm. He’s boastful, but his awkward nature somehow prevents this from tipping into an ugly arrogance. His behavior with Veronica when she first comes to his place would normally come across as creepy. However, he doesn’t attempt to make a first move romantically. He’s so unaware that he forgets that she came along as a journalist. He just wants to confide something important with another. His interaction with Veronica shows that he’s lived an isolated life, either by choice or social neglect.

It helps that the film sets up a scuzzy antagonist, Stathis (John Getz). This former boyfriend of Veronica and somewhat stereotypical corporate type provides the ick factor to keep us on Seth’s side. (It’s a fact in 80s movies that if you’re a professional with a beard, you’re distrustful). Though even he has a side that may prove to be a surprise to the audience, being part of the resolution to the escalating tragedy of Seth’s transformation.

Besides Cronenberg’s direction, Howard Shore’s score elevates the material beyond semi-remembered b-movie schlock. Shore pulls away from the synth soundscapes of the previous Cronenberg film Videodrome. He decides to flood the audience with an operatic-instrumental orchestration from the titles onward. Depending on the scene, the music whips our emotions from wonder of discovery to tension of frayed love to despair of biological terminus. Even though the sudden start and sharp end of the film could make the story seem like a slice-of-life narrative, the music transforms it into a 20th century tragedy. Just as in Classical Greek tragedy, where fate and the gods punish characters for their hubris, Seth is led down a similar path. It’s no wonder that the director later adapted the film into an opera.

There’s not much more that one can say about the make-up effects than already said. They are grotesque and especially in the final stage, out-of-this-world. However, Cronenberg never neglects the human element. What does that mean? We will likely never come across a man genetically spliced to a fly. However, it’s almost definite that we’ll see a friend or family member decay either due to disease or old age. It may not be as alien and dramatic a transformation as we see with Seth, but it’s a transformation from what we once knew, nonetheless.

At every stage of his change into the creature, we still see the once briefly happy and awkward man trying to poke through. Even though we know he no longer can fit with this world, we’re still sad to see the person that was Seth Brundle go. At the end, there’s still a personality within the insect.

The Fly is a cautionary tale, but the lessons are unlike that of the original 50s film. Yes, hubris in scientific endeavors may lead to unexpected, even unwanted results. This film, however, is warning that there must be a balance between technology and the heart (or the flesh). Seth is stunted socially until he meets Veronica. With her touch, he can make the final touch on his discovery. However, a life of withdrawn emotions has not prepared him when feelings break free, and he cares for an actual person. This lack of emotional control is just as harmful as living without emotion. It ends up costing Seth. The paradox is that during the journey to becoming a fly, Seth embraced more fully what it means to be human.

John Hughes was at his popularity’s apex when he wrote and directed this 1986 teen comedy. Most of his teen-centered work focuses on the angst and anxiety of modern youth life. This film focuses primarily on the free-spirited joy one has before adult responsibilities encroach. That doesn’t mean this is just some vacuous self-centered expression. Through the day’s journey, from suburb to Chicago and back, the characters either affirm or reconfirm their self-actualization.

We’re introduced to the lovable scamp Ferris (Matthew Broderick) as he feigns illness to skip school. He drags along his nervous and slightly neurotic best friend Cameron (Alan Ruck) and entices his devoted girlfriend Sloane (Mia Sara). Fooling Dean Ed Rooney (Jeffrey Jones), they journey to see the best of mid-eighties Chicago. This includes the Sears Tower, The Exchange, the Chicago Cubs, the Art Institute, and a thrilling parade that seems to unites all in downtown Chicago. Will Ferris make it home before his parents return from work, keeping his “playing hooky” secret? You’d have to see the end to find out. However, since the film is generally a romp, you can guess easily how’s it’s going to end.

As mentioned above, some like to be too critical of Ferris. He’s ego-driven. He seems to always get what he wants. It’s like he’s able to scam his way through life. I don’t believe that Hughes was suggesting that his specific actions were worthy of imitation. I also don’t think Ferris was acting in singular selfishness.  The charm of Broderick lets the audience know that Ferris is not malicious. It’s his love of life that leads him past where thought may have halted. His antics allow his friends to enjoy a day off from the humdrum monotony of the classroom. In a way, Ferris is more of a force that causes those around him, Cameron, Sloane, Rooney, and his put-upon sister Jeanie, realize the truth about themselves.

This brings us to the character that the audience most likely identifies with: Cameron. This is because the average person is not likely to disengage from a daily routine without a push. Most of us need an external source to help move us out of our comfort zones. And as with Cameron and his relationship with his father, a person may have legitimate reasons preventing emotional growth. This is why Cameron has a cheering moment when he takes a stand for his own identity against the presence of a father whose emotional absence has harmed the son.

What caught my attention, outside of character development, is the relationship with technology. Even though it’s an eighties film, a decade where tech exploded, one doesn’t think that technology would have a significant role in a non-science fiction picture. Outside of Weird Science, it’s the most prominent in this Hughes’s work. Ferris uses eighties’ staples such as the synthesizer, the phone voice modulator, and the early PC. Through these, he’s able to feign his illness and facilitate the retrieval of his girlfriend. These devices continue to help by “pulling the wool over the eyes” of those that could stop him.

There are two interesting aspects of the technology use. The first is that though Ferris is technically astute, the film doesn’t portray him as a nerd. This is something unheard of in media of the time. The second is that Ferris is controlling the technology, not vice versa. He uses the tech in accord with his motto: “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” Ferris, Cameron, and Sloane enjoy each other’s company and the various sights and experience. Technology is just a means to get them there. How refreshing!

Carefully watch the Art Institute visit, parade celebration, and final scene between Cameron and Ferris. There are themes of the power of art, how music and traditions can unite people across varied backgrounds, and the priority of friends and family over material things. Ferris intermittently breaks the fourth wall to provide commentary. Through this, Hughes invites the viewer to join the physical and emotional journey. I admit that I never stop getting a feeling of melancholy and wonder during the museum visit scene. The Dream Academy’s cover of “Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want” further highlights the emotions and satisfies.

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off represents both the national and the universal at its best. Ferris’s trip across the Chicago area shows snippets of what makes the USA the USA. This is in contrast to the purposely dull classroom scenes. The institutions, traditions, places, and people are not something dead within a textbook. They are living in the present, and something not be overlooked. However, the film has universal appeal as well, as the search for freedom can be a human ideal. Ultimately, these can be serious topics. Hughes is able give his thoughts, as always, with a smile.

The film starts literally across the railroad tracks as we see the environment that protagonist Andie (Molly Ringwald) lives in. Despite the drab, lower-income neighborhood she lives in, she’s a bright spot on the screen. With a wide smile and quirky dress style, one might think at first, she’s a star of her school. However, she’s an outcast along with her long-time friend Duckie (Jon Cryer), who’s the embodiment of spirited eccentricity. He has a crush on Andie, which will come to a head, when Andie realizes that Blane (Andrew McCarthy), one of the wealthy, popular students, has an interest in her. And for the first time, she opens herself up to love with a person who wouldn’t normally pay her attention.

There’s nothing truly out of ordinary for this story. Like Romeo and Juliet, and the stories that preceded and came after, it’s a love-across-the-divide story. Friends from both of their cliques don’t think that they should belong together. Plus, they have to deal with their own insecurities. What differentiates it from some of the other stories about teens is the strong characterization. These people don’t feel like stereotypes but as individuals with their own motivations.

While Ringwald’s definitely the star and gives a more mature performance than in her previous John Hughes work (though those should be praised for their honesty in expressing teen emotions), a spotlight should be shone particularly on the actors who portray her supportive father Jack (Harry Dean Stanton) and her antagonistic, snobbish classmate Steff (James Spader).

Stanton shows a vulnerability as a depressed single father who is still hopeful for the return of the wife that left their family. Still, he rouses himself to offer simple wisdom to his daughter. He is also humble enough to eventually face the facts set before him by Andie after an initial breakdown at the reality of his non-reconciliation with his wife.

As Steff is the antagonist and the most accomplished actor besides Stanton, I find Spader’s performance the most interesting. Yes, he’s a bully, but he’s not as one-dimensional as seen on the surface. Spader is antagonistic more because she continually rejects his interest rather than just because he hates poor girls. The close-ups of their tense stare-downs are some of the top images.  Looking at his interaction with wealthy girlfriend, one can sense that he knows she’s vapid. He shows less respect for her than for Andie though he won’t admit it. The fact is that Andie can see through his materialism and see his lack of character. She still isn’t willing in the end to lump all the “richies” as the same by reaching out to Blane. This drives Steff crazy.

Where there might be some disagreement with popular opinion is on the character of Duckie. Sorry, I’m not part of the Duckie fan club. I don’t entirely fault the performance of Jon Cryer. He was likely following the script and the direction. However, I’ve come to find his behavior as less endearing than obnoxious. It’s obvious that Andie cares for him as friend. It seems though that Duckie is trying to be more pressing than wooing. If they got together in the end, it would seem like he broke her down. Not that she discovered some new charm that turned friendship into romance. It’s my opinion why the original ending should’ve been scuttled and Deutch shouldn’t feel bad about current ending. Though his unhappiness did give us another classic teen movie.

Blane acts bland compared to the other characters, but that’s not too harmful to the acting. He has more personality than Ringwald’s romantic interest in Sixteen Candles. He just serves as the mysterious, nice, but somewhat aloof-looking guy that many teen girls long for. It also doesn’t hurt that he has some bucks.

What most people consider as the true star of Pretty in Pink is the soundtrack. Instead of relying on safe Top 40 hits of 1985, it showcased then-less known new wave, synth-pop, and alternative artists. We get New Order, Echo and the Bunnymen, The Smiths, and The Psychedelic Furs of the title song, among others. The music fits the scene and puts you in the minds and hearts of the teenager of the mid-80s. Though decades from that time, the music is still great. It’ll cause you to want to delve deeper into the 80s music scene beyond the more popularized artists.

Pretty in Pink is a wonderful snapshot of an era and a group of actors that were at their prime across a number of films for a brief window of time. I like the zany aspects of Hughes’s writing. However, it’s nice to view a story stripped back to earnest romantic drama, even if it’s just youthful crushes. Deutch molded the given material into a film that breathes the 80s but can exist without irony outside the decade.

Pretty in Pink (1986) Official Trailer

Now, I know that I wasn’t the only kid who thought this was an unofficial sequel to American Ninja or a spin-off. As a little sh*t, I would ask, “Where’s the ninjas? I think that’s one but, nah”.

NO, this isn’t set in the world of American Ninja although it might as well be since Jackson and Joe are pretty much the same people here as they were in NINJA.

Michael Dudikoff plays and ex-secret service agent retiring to is family ranch in Louisiana. He reconnects with comrade from the service played by Steve James who is running for local office. One day while participating in a parade, masked men attempt to murder James but instead kill one of his sons.

Cutting to the chase – To say the villains in this film are in a very creepy way a precursor to today’s far-right would be pretty close to jackpot. All the way down to their appropriation of Japanese Kendo and confirmation bias towards eastern philosophies of war patched together with their mediocre musings of Social Darwinism. In the 80’s they were dusty old grey hairs with too much money and nothing to do with their flaccid… lives. In today’s times, they are messenger bag carrying, cargo pants jogging, shooter sunglass wearing, sheep dog, douchebags; adhering to their strict anti-GMO diets while banging rails of white girl off an Alex Jones dvd bootleg… But, let me focus, we are talking bout the film and not my ranting about today’s drek and clown show.

The people responsible for the assassination attempt are members of a secret far right-wing group named Pentacle are trying to stop the election of an African American into office and as pointed out will do anything to do so.

Pentangle. Taking the name of the five pointed star, Pentangle is a far right-wing group promoting extreme views on gun rights, immigration and security and whose leadership is suspected of operating a hunting club targeting human prey.
– https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avenging_Force 

The film is an obvious attempt by Golan & Globus to cash in more on American Ninja’s popularity by creating a new franchise lead by Michael Dudikoff. The story is pretty solid although it does feel like tragic sequel to American Ninja. Overall, it’s a good film. A little creepy as before-mentioned in it’s parallels with today’s ALT-RIGHT movement or as I call them, “People who took Fight Club way too seriously”. Yes, fight club is the Scarface to angry disenchanted white guys. I said it for a long time before ‘Random Acts of Flyness’ said it. … The film is pre-‘Hard Target‘, ladies & germs. This is before the bad acid-trip that is Pres. Trump ever creeped up the spine of America. This is a true blue straight forward action film that has some suspense and tragedy.

So watch it and kick hatred in the ass.

Stay Fly, Stay beautiful, Stay awesome and always keep your finger on that Rewind button.

The basic plot of the movie unequivocally reminds us of those Shakespearian love tales, such as Romeo & Juliet, but with a happily ever after, of course. There are, however, some other factors that we believe contributed to the film’s cult status, so stay tuned to find out more.

#1 Killer soundtrack

You know that feeling when the movie starts with a powerful opening sequence accompanied by even cooler opening theme? Well, this is something you can definitely expect to see in Thrashin’! The eponymous tune composed by no one else but Meat Loaf kicks off amazingly, leading us straight to the careless world of a teen, nostalgic, Californian summer for which we are sure will be packed with loads of action and teenage romance.

Thrashin’

Don’t Think Twice by France Joli is a touching power ballad that follows Cory and Chrissy’s bonding in the best possible way while Staring Down the Demons by Animotion makes an excellent fit to Cory’s efforts to take part in the L.A. Massacre despite his arm injury. Other honorable mentions: Arrow Through My Heart by Jimmy Demers.

#2 Brolin’s Insanely Good Looks

What we get to know about Brolin’s character, Cory Webster, in the beginning, is that he comes from the Valley for a famous (or rather infamous?) L.A. Massacre race, and it seems that he’s 100% ready to conquer the world. Cory is the absolute epitome of all 80s beauty male standards, with ripped muscles, blond hair, and overall fantastic physique which will grant him both the hearth of his crush, Crissy, as well as the chance to make all his dreams come true.

Thrashin’

#3 Red Hot Chili Pepper’s Performance

Even though the Anthony Kiedis & Co. performance might seem a bit odd at first sight, especially given their innovative music approach which had nothing in common with then-popular music, the band’s appearance in Thrashin’ made it pretty evident that the band was the herald of the new time that would come in only four years. Moreover, Black Eyed Blond by RHCP, which is included in Trashin’ OST, makes a perfect sense observed in the context of central protagonists who are – accidentally or not – both blond. Joking aside, the only dark-eyed blond in the movie is Brolin himself.

#4 The variety of retro fashion styles we get to see

All the way from punk rock outfits donned by notorious Daggers to somewhat casual combos of the Locals, Trashin’ offers a great insight into the favorite styles from the era indeed. The movie, on the other hand, takes place in Venice Beach, meaning that high cut swimsuits are to be seen on every corner too (think sexy chicks with their 80s hard bodies!).

Retro accessorizing is also present, including body paint, oversized jewelry, as well as a variety of crazy hats. Then again, we get to feast our eyes on tight and cropped tanks, high-waist pants, and jeans/leather outfits which are, as you’re already guessing, reserved mainly for ”villains“ and outcasts.

#5 Directing style

For all of us living outside the L.A, Thrashin’ offered a view of the city from the entirely different perspective. Remember that epic moment when the guys are skating down the Hollywood walk of fame? We thought so! David Winters did a great job with framing and perspective, which consequently contributed to consistency and beauty of the movie in general.

All in all, it seems that this motion picture can effortlessly bring us back to a more innocent time where the main problem was how to win over a girl. A bit naive from today’s perspective, we dare say, nevertheless a real treat for all us retro lovers who derive their positive energy straight from a wellhead of cinematic yesteryears.

Have you watched Trashin’ yet? Did you enjoy the soundtrack? You can tell us all about it in the comment section below!

On the other hand, Robert Palmer was addicted to love, The Human League justified the epithet in their title, Madonna asked her papa not to preach while Falco begged the late Amadeus for some rock. This all leads us to an inevitable conclusion that 1986 was a one of a kind marker in the epoque of excess; a sort of a breaking point when various energies collided and thus resulted in some pretty awesome artistic creations. So, what about fashion, some might ask? Well, the popular garbs at the time definitely weren’t falling behind the movies and songs either. Moreover, they rather represented a perfect addition to the rich cinematographic and musical diversity. So, without a further ado, we hereby present you with top 6 essential fashion pieces that were all the rage in 1986.

1.    Ray-Ban sunglasses

Thanks to already mentioned Tom Cruise’s role in the classic film achievement Top Gun, the sales of now iconic classic aviator model raised for mind-blowing 40% . Moreover, it has continued to inspire numerous fashion designers even to this day and now a pair of aviators is simply a must in everyone’s accessory collection. So, if you want to look like you’ve just come out of the Danger zone and are 100 % ready to rock, this could be a great retro yet modern addition to your outfit.

Top Gun on GIPHY

2. Cropped tanks and tops

Sherilyn Fenn strutted her stuff like a pro and showed us a true meaning of 80’s sex appeal while rocking a cropped tank in the 1986’s The Wraith, side by side with notorious Charlie Sheen. There is definitely something about 80s chicks with long legs, deep lycra miniskirts and cropped tanks that is simply irresistible, wouldn’t you agree?

3. Leather and more leather

The first thing that comes to our mind is a notorious Cobra aka Sylvester Stallone donning a leather jacket, denim pants and a pair of awesome aviators while protecting an exotic European hottie such as Bridget Nielsen. They eventually ended up being married in a real life but there’s no wonder – not really – since this outfit and its respective variations continue to break ladies’ hearts even today, regardless of they are into 80s fashion or not!

Cobra (1986 Film)

4.Powersuits

Even one of the covers of ‘86 Elle magazine featured an image of a strong, independent woman proudly wearing a powersuit, looking like she’s basically ready to conquer the Wall street and to fully compete with her male counterparts. The powersuits mostly consisted of deep waist pants and jackets with huge shoulder pads that were tailored for women who exactly knew what they want from their lives.

Grace Jones

5. Shoulder pads

The magical and dazzling world of Labyrinth was a true depiction of Bowie’s 80s phase at its finest. Even the fantasy costumes got designed in a way to be in accordance with our favorite era. It’s was both Bowie’s iconic haircut and powerful shoulder pads he put on that really made impression but also caught the hearts of the fandom in the labyrinth of devotion (pun intended!).

Labyrinth (1986 Film)

6. Aerobic gear

Even though a well-known Flashdance that celebrated the beauty of 80s hardbody got out three years earlier, in 1983, it appears that popularity of aerobic gear reached a peak of its popularity precisely in 1986. This Crystal light national aerobic championship video that got out in ‘86 clearly demonstrates that leg warmers, headbands and tricots were designed in a way to truly enhance a “flexappeal”!

What do you think of our choices? Do you think we missed something? Don’t be afraid to share your opinion in the comment section below!

Since the very dawn of video gaming, ever since the first of countless alien invasions and nameless ninja clan insurgencies, gamers and developers have all agreed on one thing: peace is nice, but it’s incredibly boring. A common theme has emerged throughout electronic gaming, one of conflict and mayhem, where the stakes are never low and neither is the adrenaline level. We crave games of war, and damn it all, the developers and publishers have always been right there with us on the front lines.

This trend, when examined, waxes and wanes; an observer of the timeline can see it ebb and flow from simple sword-fighting between two nameless knights to full-scale nuclear war (and the theoretical after-effects). The mid to late 1980s seemed to hit a particular stride, when Cold War phantoms mixed with constantly more badass-looking real life military hardware to spawn a long list of not only films but video games (sometimes directly inspired by said films). War, we knew, was hell… and as this era burned bright red in celluloid and pixel-screen, we strode happily forward to swim in hellish waters. The devil himself was happy to take our hand, and to point out the price… 25 cents for a dip, $40 per cartridge to buy our own backyard pool.

This trio of games is not meant to be a best- or worst-of list, nor a definitive one. These three titles simply stick out most readily in my mind as examples of the over-the-top gloss we often give military strife through the lens of entertainment. And yeah… they’re pretty awesome.

Jackal/Top Gunner

Konami, 1986

I said this wasn’t a best-of list, but this definitely has to be one of my favorites. Jackal is called Tokushu Butai Jakkaru (“Special Forces Jackal”) in Japan, and was marketed in some regions as Top Gunner. In Jackal you play the role of a Special Forces unit tasked with the noble mission of rescuing POWs behind enemy lines. This kind of work is extremely hazardous, so it’s a good thing the brass gave you jeeps that maneuver like gazelles and are as bloodthirsty as you are.

Red beret, devastatingly precise mustache… Easy to tell who drives the jeep… who’s in charge. There’s a cooler in the back. Help yourself to a martini or some Dom Perignon. This will all be over soon, soldier.

Up to 2 players can play, and that’s the better way to go about it since you WILL be mobbed constantly by both infantry and enemy vehicles. The cool thing about most soldiers on foot is that you can just run them over in cold blood, mangling them under your jeep’s blood-soaked wheels as you laugh. The bad news is that they are rarely alone; not only do soldiers pack weapons that can destroy your jeep in one hit, so do the tanks, gun emplacements, bombers, and jeeps similar to yours that tend to accompany them. That’s why you also have a machine gun and a seemingly limitless supply of explosives.

Your POWs are in little buildings, and you open those buildings safely by blasting the shit out of them. Most of them just file out and climb into your seemingly bottomless jeep, but the guys kept alone in their own little sheds upgrade your blammo-factor from grenades to rockets that upgrade each time you rescue another such prisoner.

The arcade original, not unlike that of Contra, is non-stop, with very little in the way of transitions between areas of strife. Not so for the NES port and some other versions; in those, you even get cool little cutscenes illustrating what a rad time you’re having cutting a swathe of carnage through the enemy. Every version has bosses, though, and they’re no joke… from mammoth war machines to walls of launchers and even hostile rows of statues, each set will turn your life into an exercise in move-or-die.

Guerilla War

SNK, 1987

A big part of what makes this one stand out is its original choice of subject matter, which was hastily and clumsily scrubbed for Western release: in Guerilla War, the two players are supposed to be Che Guevara and Fidel Castro, overthrowing the Batista regime. In fact, the game was called Guevara in Japan. Both the titling and dialogue were quickly altered for release in the USA, in hopes of rendering the entire thing generic… I’d say they did nine tenths of a job.

I CAN STILL KINDA TELL THOUGH, CAN’T YOU? I GUESS IT’S JUST INTUITION.

But whatever. This isn’t an opinion piece or a history lesson. Anyone can agree it’s a ballsy move to make a game about that kind of heated subject, and anyone who’s played Guerilla War can agree it’s a pretty balls-to-the-wall run and gun game that is at least worthy of having such a past attached to it.

The only tactical concern of yours besides not dying when you dismount a quick boat to singlehandedly topple the entire enemy force is not to kill hostages accidentally. This is hard, not only because your enemies are all over the place and it’s hard to tell what’s going on, but because it’s tempting to just fire wantonly into cross-traffic and hurl grenades in front of you to clear a path through the chaos of battle. While this is a viable tactic about 2/3 of the time, it gets risky when there are bound and gagged men from your side nearby. Let’s be realistic: some will die. Rescue the ones that don’t.

In the grand tradition of war-themed video games, this one has no shortage of over-the-top enemy shit. You want to fight a train? Well, get ready to fight a fucking train, Che. All by yourself.

Strider Hiryu

Capcom, 1989

Many of us have played the NES title Strider, and most of us know it’s a far cry from the source material. Strider Hiryu, released originally as an arcade title and gradually ported to tons of systems besides the NES, is based off a 1988 Kadokawa Shoten manga of the same name. Hiryu (which means Flying Dragon) is also the protagonist’s name. Here’s what makes it a war game: Hiryu is an assassin sent to kill the overlord of a Communist dystopia in the year 2048. This game was a taste of sci-fi blended into the familiar orgy of violence, and while the overtones may have been lost on a lot of casual players, they still set an interesting example of theoretical futurism carried across different media. While the Red Menace of Soviet Russia ended up reaching a far different fate in real life, the 2048 of this timeline is still a hell of a place to be a super-assassin.

Yep *hitches thumbs through belt-loops* that there looks purdy Soviet to me, soldier. You know what to do.

As Hiryu, you get not only a plasma-generating sword and the acrobatic skills of a jacked-up gibbon, but you can also call upon three different “option” robots to help you unleash a whirlwind of murder on the Motherland. You also get a grappling hook, which seems superfluous after mentioning the other shit, but it comes in handy. All this gear is good, because your target, the Grandmaster, has spared nothing in defending himself. Be ready for robot gorillas (far larger, of course, than organic ones), elaborate laser traps, and more troops than you can shake a plasma sword at.

Robo-Ivan just got knocked the fuck apart by a sword made out of what’s inside the Sun. Robo-Sergei back there is having one of those moments where you wonder what your robo-life would have been if you’d just stayed in robo-art college and studied robo-cubism instead of joining the People’s Droid Army.

I’m kidding. Shake it at all of them. Leave none alive.

FINAL VERDICT:

Jackal – 7/10

Guerilla War – 7/10

Strider Hiryu – 8/10

One of Jackal’s aforementioned cinematics. See you mid-April for more red-blooded gunpowder action!

Pride in one’s art is usually encouraged, but what if one’s art supported a cause or a thought process that’s no longer in favor or that has even become denigrated?  Is the art to be thrown out completely as suspect, or can one admire the skill and technique of the artist, while questioning the themes represented?  This is one of the main themes of An Artist of the Floating World.  And as with many other literary novels, there are no easy answers when confronting such questions.  

Born of Japanese parents, Ishiguro moved to the U.K. when he was five.  He was brought up with Japanese cultural values, but his relationship with Japan is complex. During his early years, his reading and writing were more influenced by British writers than Japanese ones.  This second novel, like his first published four years before, centers around Japanese characters; however, the style reflects those of his contemporaries in the British literary world of the 1980s.  In fact, Ishiguro wouldn’t return to Japan until three years after this novel’s publication.  So, his literary Japan is one based off of recollections from his parents, with imagination filling the gaps.  Still, the novel captures the feelings of the period accurately when comparing it with history.   

The novel, set in postwar Japan, follows Masuji Ono as he deals with the aftermath of Japan’s defeat in World War II.  He lost his wife in one of the last bombing raids of the war, and is now trying to arrange the marriage of his youngest daughter Noriko.  There’s a dilemma however beyond trying to cope as a widower in a country trying to rebuild.  Ono had a career as a successful artist decades before the war.  During the 1930s, he however attached himself to the growing militaristic spirit of Imperial Japan.  Once a painter of scenes of frivolity in the pleasure quarters of the city, he turned to painting political propaganda pieces after observing the poverty afflicting the country.  This lead to a break with the artistic tradition that he was taught.  At the height of Japanese conquests, he was held in esteem by the people and the government.  With Japan’s defeat, his reputation is now in tatters, and he is held at a distance like a leper by many.  The new ethos of democracy has supplanted the old imperial creed, and he increasingly seems to be a relict by his daughters and in-laws.

One of Ono’s primary struggles is finding a husband for that youngest daughter.  Noriko is a woman in her mid-twenties, and she is steadily marching towards old maid-status according to the culture and period.  Ono has a feeling that his role as an Imperial propagandist has hindered families from completing a match between their sons and his daughter.  When the novel begins, one finds that a hopeful match had suddenly collapsed the year before, and Ono is nervous whether the current match will follow a similar pattern, especially if the family looks deeply into his past.  Ono tries not to be ashamed of his past, but he knows that it has not only affected his daughter’s prospects, but his relationships with many of his past associates.  During wartime, Ono served the government not only as a propagandist, but also as an informer against those artists expressing sentiments not in accord with the manifest destiny of the Japanese Empire.  As those artists’ reputations are being rehabilitated postwar, his reputation has fallen due to individuals in the art world and government viewing him as a stooge of the militaristic regime.

Ono also has to deal with changes beyond the political culture.  Because of the promotion of democracy, attitudes toward the elderly have changed too.  Not that the younger generation is disrespectful to their elders, but they increasingly believe that new mores should be given a chance.  This is seen in the contrasting situations where Ono deals with his grandson Ichiro and the way Ichiro’s mother Setsuko handles him.  It seems that Ono is confused by Ichiro’s playful imitation of Western media characters, but Setsuko approves that Ichiro prefers Western heroes to the figures of Japanese history and legend.  His daughters’ husbands profess similar admiration for the values promoted by the American Occupation, and this includes supporting the dismissal of senior staff in the corporate world who could’ve been tainted by the wartime ethos.  As deference for one’s elders is part of traditional Japanese culture, Ono is confused by the wholesale rejection of everything prewar, and thinks it not entirely necessary, even though he realizes that Japan must admit responsibility for the war.  Whether Ono finds himself responsible for some of the negativity associated with the period is still a mystery by the end of the novel, as he vacillates between opinions concerning his importance during wartime and whether all his art was nefarious when he promoted the war effort.

While the novel is definitely not a beach-read, it’s perfect for those who want something brief, but who don’t want to feel like they wasted their time on something with ephemeral value.  Though not much external action takes place, it doesn’t feel like the characters are static.  The restraint in the characters’ behavior often tells much more about their feelings and motivations.  Because Ono is a flawed character, the reader sympathizes with him somewhat.  Not that one agrees with his wartime career choices, but one believes that he sincerely believed that he was doing right.  What the reader may have a problem with is Ono’s failure to acknowledge that the postwar reevaluation of expansionist mindset is perhaps closer to truth than his sincere wartime beliefs despite his associates and family prodding him in that direction.  It’s not that Ono is a monster; he seems to be a kind family man, willing to yield in a number of matters.  It’s that he is blind concerning aspects of his past, and this blindness is likely deliberate because those aspects may call into question his integrity as an artist. 

Written by Christopher Fried

http://www.christopherfried.com/

As both a reader and a writer, I enjoy diverse genres of literature.  I however would have to choose mid-20th century British comic fiction as one of my favorites.  Besides various batches of metrical poetry, there is no other genre that brings such a grin to my face.  Whether it is works of Evelyn Waugh, Anthony Burgess, Anthony Powell, or this review’s featured writer, Kingsley Amis, I just can’t get enough.  I think this is due to the combination of familiarity and slight estrangement between American and British cultures.  An American reader delving into the British cultural world has journeyed to foreign milieu, but does not feel completely like a stranger in a strange land.  There is a notion of difference, but generally, not a feeling of bewilderment as when one picks up a Japanese or Russian novel without cultural context.

 When compared with other comic writers that emerged during the interbellum and post-World War II period, Kingsley Amis is probably the most accessible to an American reader, or really any English language speaker.  Although British class tension is present in a number of his works, it does not hover like a shadow over the themes as it does in other writers of the same period such as Waugh or Powell.  For one thing, Amis seemed to always fight against the biases of the British establishment, whether when he was a left-leaning basher of posh pretension during the Angry Young Man period of the fifties, or when he became a pro-American conservative in the post-Vietnam era, when it was fashionable for the British literati to declare American power as anathema.  Even in his non-fiction book on grammar, The King’s English, he readily prefers American English to that of his own countrymen as more natural and less stuffy.  Throughout his life he believed that things should be said straight forward and without a lot of bollocks as he might say.

The Old Devils, though written in his later years, shows that Amis had not lost his wit.  In addition, the novel is not just a comic gem, but it shows his most heart since his original masterpiece, Lucky Jim.  He doesn’t hesitate to laugh at the foibles of his characters, but his presentation shows that he cares for them as individual creations.  The story focuses on Welsh couples in their sixties in the mid-1980s as they handle the indignity of old age.  Interestingly, Amis set a number of his novels in Wales.  For some reason, it seems Wales gets a bit of short shrift in terms of British settings chosen by writers; perhaps, the locales of England and Scotland are both more romantic and familiar, but Amis’s prose shows that Wales shouldn’t be forgotten.

 The couples, and other locals, are in a stir because Alun and Rhiannon Weaver have returned home to South Wales after years of celebrity in London.  The Welsh have developed a complex view of Alun: he is both praised and viewed as somewhat of a phony.  Alun is a popular poet, but much of that popularity is based off his living off the legacy of the late, more critically-acclaimed poet Brydan, and his presentation of himself as the prototypical Welshman.  Basically, if a Welsh topic needs a Welsh viewpoint, the London establishment turns to Alun to pontificate on what it means to be Welsh, especially in the modern age.  Though his friends and neighbors are glad that a local son has made it professionally, they are somewhat embarrassed by the bloviating of his subject matter.  It doesn’t help that he is a selfish scoundrel who had affairs with the majority of his friends’ wives, and who begins to commence his bad habits again when he settles back in Wales.

His friends are a loveable but seemingly hopeless lot.  They spend the majority of their day hitting up establishments to indulge their alcoholic tendencies.  They are definitely not picture of good health.  Charles Norris and Peter Thomas are obese, and getting fatter.  Malcolm Cellan-Davies has stomach and teeth issues that are at a point of precariousness.  Their wives seem to have lost whatever love they had for them; it doesn’t help that the seducer Alun is back in town.  The saddest character would definitely be Peter. Fortunately, he gets somewhat of a happy ending at the conclusion of the novel; however, throughout the majority of the story, he is at the critical whims of his wife, who hasn’t been physically attracted to him in years and is at a similar emotional distance.  Some critics say that Amis modeled this portrait on himself, though Amis’s personal traits are found in aspects of all the major male characters. 

The characters try to come to terms with what has been largely wasted years.   They seem to have stopped growing emotionally since the time of their college years.  After an incident in a pub that gets the gang of old friends thrown out, the owner remarks, “You’d think [men that age] have learnt how to behave by this time.”  Looking at the shenanigans that they get themselves in, it is obvious that they haven’t (and neither have their selfish wives), and it costs one of the friends his life near the end of the novel, though you’re not surprised who dies, and it’s quite satisfactory despite your feeling somewhat attached to him by the end.  The story implies that even famous Alun has wasted much of his life.  He is a successful poet, but there is a feeling that his fame rests on being the court jester to a condescending English audience and dull Welsh public.  Does he truly embody the Welsh spirit just as Brydan, and is that something to which he should have tried to attain?  Like many of the other characters, Alun runs toward his Welsh identity and tries running away from it.  This crisis leads him to almost become a stereotype that he wishes to avoid, rather than becoming an individual, who happens to have Welsh heritage.

 This 1986 Man Booker Prize winner is considered to be the prime achievement of Kingsley’s career by his son, the also-acclaimed novelist, Martin Amis.  Though I didn’t bust out laughing as I did with his earlier works like Lucky Jim or One Fat Englishman, I don’t believe that the narrative is any less humorous.  What concerns one in old age is much different than in youth, so there should be no surprise that the style differs somewhat as well.  Reading his earlier works, it can be reasoned that Amis sympathized only slightly with his targets at that time.  Perhaps reflecting on mortality during his older years caused him however to enshroud even the most ridiculous and foolish characters with dignity in this novel.  To me, this increases the novel’s merit as a comic work, as recognition of one’s past regrets are easily more reflected upon as we age, especially when we laugh with each other rather than just at each other.