Verhoeven’s legacy keeps people diving back in…

I’ve mentioned Dutch film director Paul Verhoeven many times over the course of these blogs. Not every movie in his oeuvre is a classic, but his big three (IMO) are all but ingrained into my DNA and, by process of creative osmosis, infused into the inspirations of Zombie Ranch as well.

I’m speaking of the science fiction triple threat of Robocop (1987), Total Recall (1990), and Starship Troopers (1997). They don’t share source material, they don’t comprise any sort of shared cinematic universe — and yet their visions of media-saturated dystopian futures are certainly connected in theme and presentation. There’s a critique of the excesses of American culture, sometimes light and sometimes harsh, almost never subtle but almost invariably — well, fun. It makes them very rewatchable. It writes catchphrases into your psyche: “I’d buy that for a dollar!” — “Get your ass to Mars!” — “Would you like to know more?”

Are they shallow? Are they deep? Are they somehow both? Verhoeven never seemed to lose sight of these being popcorn-munching action movies even as he took the piss (as the British would say) with his subject. And with all the adventure and explosions involved it would seem natural that they would be further adaptable into video games, right?

Well, results there have varied. But oh sweet liberty did the makers of the game Helldivers 2 get it right. Look, I’m just going to take a minute to link the opening cutscene here. See if you can sense a certain familiar vibe:

Okay but blah, blah, we’re all jaded gamers here, we know better than to trust a fancy cutscene. Well, I’m happy to report the game very much preserves the whole feeling of the above in its actual play, right down to the propaganda videos that will play between missions as you and your fellow Helldivers kick back momentarily on your Super Destroyer before another suicide mission in the name of Democracy.

It is patently ridiculous, over-the-top, and it’s probably the first “war shooter” I’ve ever honestly enjoyed, probably because in addition to nailing the satirical aspects the game didn’t lose sight of that other Verhoeven factor of being fun. Since it’s multiplayer this can, naturally, depend on your fellow Helldivers of the moment, but if you ever felt like stepping into the boots of Verhoeven’s vision of the Roughnecks, of Johnny Rico or “Dizzy” Flores, this is as good as it gets, ironically even though there are actual official Starship Troopers games out there.

If you’re looking for Heinlein’s original vision you’ll probably need to keep moving along, but hey, at least there are tacnukes. Just no real powered armor to compensate. Let faith in Freedom be your shield… or at least the shield of your next diver in line after that one vaporized.

Talking it for granted, part 2

So it’s been a few weeks since my last post, but I haven’t forgotten that I promised to go into some of my half-baked theories on writing. I rambled around the topic enough in the past entry that I’m not sure I even got to that point, which I suppose in of itself bespeaks poor writing, at least on a technical level. All these blogs tend to be first drafters anyhow, I’m not going for Dickens or Shakespeare.

Oh but speaking of those two gents, they both indulged in a bit of poetry didn’t they? In Shakespeare’s case so much so that he is often referred to as “The Bard” — which if you’re a D&D player will usually conjure up two immediate impressions: one of them NSFW and one of them a dude or gal who habitually carries and uses a musical instrument and sings a lot.

Well, let’s roll with this. What if I proposed to you that a gateway into writing could be found in music? Even music without official lyrics? Vidi this video proposing that the most memorable theme music for movies and television is stuff that lends itself to unofficial lyrics incorporating the title, and how many composers have completely admitted to getting their start from that text.

 

Star Wars… nothing but STAAAR WAAAARS…

But seriously, if text can lead the way to music, why not the reverse? We make up lyrics all the time. We sing stupid improvised songs to our baffled pets. Is that writing? Well if you took it and committed it in the fixed form of copyright fame, I would say so. Is that good writing? Okay, save that for the advanced class. After all, this memed parody of Kate Bush’s “Running Up That Hill” was wildly popular and will get stuck in your head despite what seems like a serious lack of effort in its lyrics:

@mattstorerhere

Art of the deal #comedy #music #fyp #parody #strangerthings

♬ original sound – Matt Storer

Ad jingles are kind of like that, too. I can’t remember where I left my keys earlier in the day but I can recite the lyrics to a Juicyfruit gum advertisement from the 1980’s nearly verbatim.

So maybe fledgling writers should stop worrying too much about being “good” and instead focus on, for lack of a better term, their “flow.” It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. To be, or not to be. Imagine someone reading the audiobook of what you’re laying down, do the words keep a kind of rhythm even though they don’t rhyme? This is especially true of writing dialogue. Speak it out loud, in the voice of the character as you imagine them, and see how it sounds. That way you hopefully don’t run afoul of Harrison Ford’s apocryphal quip to George Lucas of “you can type this shit, but you can’t say it!”

At very least I believe this could get you atarted, much the same as the music composers coming at the process from the other direction. It doesn’t have to be a full-on musical number, but a little bit of rhythm could go a long way.