Sunday 28 June 2015

What's so great about Inside Out?

I don't watch too many films, but when I went to see Inside Out, I was expecting something on par with some of Pixar's great films of the early-to-mid 2000s. With the exception of Cars, every single one of Pixar's films released between 2003 and 2010 received great acclaim critically, quite an achievement given they have released a film every year since 2003.

But for the past few years there have been murmurs of a rut in Pixar. The Good Dinosaur, which was meant to be last year's Pixar film, won't be coming out until late this year or early next year, depending on which part of the world you live in. Prior to that, Pixar's record was somewhat shaky. 2010's Toy Story 3 was regarded as one of their greatest films ever. 2011's Cars 2 was regarded as their worst, and 2013's Monsters University was seen as a decent effort at best. Their only non-sequel in this time, Brave, was also met with 'good-but-not-great' reviews.

So, with Inside Out receiving an average score on par with Toy Story 3, surely it must be a well handled, complex story for all ages, the kind of thing Pixar has been renowned for.

This is not so.

Let's be clear: the underlying theme behind the movie - that the constant pursuit of happiness is impossible and unhealthy - is one worth exploring. The way we, as a society, deal with emotions and their place in our life is a subject that we are no closer to solving now than we were fifty years ago, when the cultural revolutions of the west took place.

But it is also a difficult theme to explore, and while Pixar deserves credit for being willing to tackle such a theme, the overall plot and accompanying characterisation feel more superficial than they should.

The story consists of two worlds: the inner world of an eleven year old girl, Riley, which contains all her thoughts and is headed by a group of emotions; and the real world in which Riley lives. Riley's actions in the real world seem to be primarily, but not entirely, guided by her emotions. But this established order has some doubt cast over it by her move from Minnesota to San Francisco, which forms the basis of the story. This move causes inner turmoil for her and, therefore, for her emotions, which are unable to deal with the new circumstances which she is in (thus raising the question of whether the emotions are actually in control, something that is never really addressed). 

And then Joy, Sadness and all Riley's core memories get sucked up a pipe.

This is somewhat of a spoiler, but this one event sets the course for the rest of the movie, and is therefore responsible for the incredible frustration that is the middle act of this film. Unlike past Pixar films, which all take place in real locations - the suburbs of the US, the ocean, Paris, space, etc. - the main setting for this film is entirely imaginary. When we see an enormous structure in this setting, such as the islands of thought, there is no sense of wonder. After all, it did not take any effort to 'build' that structure, they simply appear. There is no real sense of scale either. We have no idea how long it might take to walk from one side of the brain to the other, so whenever the main characters manage to just miss getting on their path back to headquarters, it brings only frustration. The sense builds that every failure is simply being contrived to draw out the middle act. The train line collapses after being hit by debris from a falling island! The pipes to headquarters break because the structure they are built into is falling apart! The wagon that flies on the power of music doesn't quite have enough fuel to reach the top of the cliff! None of these events feel real. There is no sense that yes, these things could actually happen, and therefore it is logical for them to have occurred here. Of course, animated films always have some leeway with what could or could not occur, but in this case there is absolutely nothing to draw upon.

This all means that the plot feels directionless, made purely to draw out time in the film between the decent opening act and the enjoyable but short final act.

Perhaps this lack of direction is a reflection on the lack of an antagonist, which seems like a missed opportunity. There are five emotions which are meant to be living in our minds - joy, sadness, fear, disgust and anger - and yet all of them play the role of protagonist to some degree or another. There are no antagonists in the outside world either. Perhaps the idea of chaos is meant to be the antagonist, but the chaos of childhood is presented in such a positive light that this seems far-fetched as well.

In fact, perhaps the character best suited to playing the role of antagonist is one of the primary protagonists: Joy. Now, it may seem a bit churlish to complain about a character than personifies an emotion constantly embodying that emotion, but the problems with Joy's character run deeper than her constant happy-go-lucky nature. The biggest problem is how long it takes for her to learn anything. She spends three-quarters of the movie assuming that the other emotions - Sadness in particular - are inferior to herself, and less necessary. While there is an argument to make that such a belief is the truth, what it means for the story is that her sudden turnaround towards Sadness in the last part of the movie feels as though it lacks depth. Furthermore, it is difficult to be sympathetic towards her, as some of her actions seem genuinely cruel and selfish. She never bothers to properly explain her actions to any of the others, and yet all the other characters just accept this happening.

The second primary protagonist is Sadness. Unlike Joy, Sadness is easier to sympathise with, as she is normally the victim, and she is responsible for probably the most genuinely moving moment within the inner world. This moving moment is with Bing Bong, the imaginary friend of Riley that represents her disappearing childhood. Joy, too, has a moment intended to be of similar poignancy with Bing Bong, but it falls entirely flat thanks to how difficult it is to connect with both Joy and Bing Bong, and to how suddenly yet inevitably it occurs. But while Sadness has these strengths, she simply doesn't get the time on screen she needs to be an actual major character, and also never gets the chance to really explain herself and her actions, though not for want of trying. The characterisation of the two protagonists is also somewhat bothersome. Joy is a happy-go-lucky action girl, and Sadness is a shy bookworm. The underlying (presumably unintended) message being that those who aren't eager to be out and about all the time must be naturally less happy than those who are. It's a simple characterisation, but that does not make it less grating.

The other three emotions play secondary roles, but are all portrayed sympathetically, which seems to me to be an odd choice. Anger, especially, seems like a character ripe for the role of antagonist. Every decision that he makes is shown to have bad consequences for Riley and those around her. But despite this, Anger is used mostly as comic relief, which is admittedly done well. But surely, in a film which explores which emotions are worth feeling, there should be a recognition that anger is actually a dangerous emotion which is rarely used well. Fear is probably the most well used emotion, coming in where appropriate, such as early on when he saves Riley from falling over a power cord. Disgust, on the other hand, is a peculiar character, seemingly taking on the idea of social interaction more broadly. I'm not entirely sure what name would've been more apt for the character, but 'disgust' doesn't quite seem to fit.

The human characters are fairly stock-standard, as is perhaps necessary given they provide the setting and context, rather than being important characters in and of themselves. At least part of the praise for this movie has come from the moments between daughter and parent, but for the purposes of this article it is neither here nor there.

There is one other character worth looking at. I mentioned Bing Bong earlier, and how it was difficult to connect with him. In truth this is not because the character is difficult to sympathise with, but because I genuinely don't know what to make of the character. Being an entirely imaginary creature, his looks are complex, and this is also true of his character. Here is a naturally joyful, goofball character that is now lost, existing in the mind of a child that has outgrown him. I actually want to like the character, and at times I do, but then I think it over again and I return to not liking him. I doubt I will ever figure this out.

These flaws are, to my mind, what prevent Inside Out from being a genuinely great film. So why, then, have reviews been so glowing?

I suspect there are two reasons which are working in tandem. Firstly, reviewers love the idea of the film, a film about the emotions that we all feel, and how we are meant to feel them in a world where we are constantly called upon to be happy. Second, we want Pixar to be great again. Anything which feels like a step towards this will likely be treated as though it is indeed a return. The danger of this is that, should Pixar genuinely make something of such quality in the next few years, there is only so many ratings points left for them.

This is not intended to be an even-handed critique, as there are still many things the film does well. I just find it odd that the film is being so highly lauded, when, to my eyes, it does not reach the heights of past Pixar films.

Monday 22 June 2015

Where will console gaming be in five years?

E3 2015 has come and gone, and in its wake it has left three announcements to send the internet into blazes of hype (The Last Guardian, Final Fantasy VII remake, and Shenmue III), a bunch of non-announcements to send the internet into blazes of fury (Nintendo), and many more announcements that get lost in the fires (Xbox backwards compatibility).

But in the rush to pronounce the winners and losers from a few days of showcasing games and systems that may or may not get to the consumer in the same form they were presented in, few takes the time to consider what this E3 may mean for gaming in the years to come.

Oh, sure, there's the occasional passing mention of virtual reality, but it seems to be more out of hope that such technologies are the future than it is expectation that what we are seeing now will be in living rooms the world over in a by the end of the decade.

In terms of what is ready and functioning right now, there are two groups: the hardware makers, and the hardware users. Trying to discuss what the latter will be doing years into the future is pointless, as third-party publishers are always reacting to hardware the exists at the time their games are being made. 

No, what matters is the companies making the hardware. PCs, despite being absolutely, unquestionably superior to consoles in every imaginable way, do not actually have the same impact on the market. Their status as personal computer means that people will buy PCs whenever they want, for whatever purpose they want. There isn't one single company behind them, whose future depends on them. They simply are what they are.

Consoles, on the other hand, have been central to video games for the past thirty years. The direction consoles take necessarily affects the entire industry. All the biggest publishers focus on consoles first, so if there's a shift in popularity, or a change in the way consoles function, the publishers will follow. 

So, with this in mind, what did E3 2015 tell us about the three console makers?

To these eyes, it actually suggested some very important things that aren't obvious on the surface. At face value, Sony had a great conference, Microsoft did fine, and Nintendo did poorly. The narrative from this being that the PlayStation 4 will continue to sell great guns, the Xbox One will need continued efforts to bring it to respectable sales, and the Wii U and 3DS are nearly at the end.

But this narrative says nothing about why these things are the case, and what they may say about how the companies themselves perceive their consoles.

Sony's big announcements were all for games that will be out in 2016. This suggests a great deal of confidence in the position of the PS4 this year, and why wouldn't they have such confidence? The PS4 is on track to be another 100+ million seller, leaving its immediate predecessor in the dust. The things that they got wrong with the PS3 they have rectified, and they have taken back their position as the console of choice. The greatest barometer of this is the fact that Call of Duty and Star Wars: Battlefront are both being advertised in association not with Xbox, as would seem traditional, but with PlayStation. If even mass appeal shooters are sticking with Sony, it must be doing something right.

As far as Sony's concerned, then, they just need to keep doing what they're doing. At E3 2020 we will, barring something catastrophic, be dealing with the new PS5 (and we'll get a release date for the FFVII remake, haw haw). Sony's formula, at this point, seems basically spot on.

Microsoft's big announcements were peculiar, in that they involved cross-system play. Many of the announced games were noted to be exclusive not merely to Xbox One, but to Windows 10 as well. This isn't merely a matter of the same game being available on two systems either. For example, someone playing Fable Legends on the One will be playing in the same world as another person playing on PC. Without being an expert on these things, this is surely thanks to two things: the internal workings of the Xbox One, which (like a PC) runs x86 architecture; and the operating system for the One, which just so happens to be be...Windows 10.

Yes, the One has the same architecture and operating system as a PC. In fact, this all seems rather similar to another notable gaming company. Valve Software, a company that no longer makes software but instead runs a digital games marketplace, has launched its own operating system and gaming machines that run this operating system. The idea behind them is to enable people to play their PC games from their living room, building on Steam's Big Picture Mode, which was designed for PCs plugged into televisions, using a controller.

The Xbox One appears to have the same purpose, with the added incentive of a few games - mostly the biggest guns like Halo - not appearing on PC. Yet. Outwardly, there is no indication of a shift in direction for Xbox, but it is absolutely clear that they have abandoned the concept of an all-in-one console, something that would have full control of the living room. It is also clear that Microsoft is not in any position to be taking Sony head on. Sony prides itself on its position at the forefront of hardware technology, willing to take a hit on hardware for the sake of market share, something they see as an investment with long term returns. Sales seem to suggest they have a point. Microsoft is not in the same position, having made its fortune on software.

The similarities between the positioning of the One and Steam's movement into operating systems and hardware suggest that in five years from now the main purpose of Xbox may well be as a competitor to Steam. Microsoft will presumably continue to make Xbox machines, but may also hand over production to a third party, as Valve has done. But in turning Xbox into a marketplace, Microsoft will gain flexibility. The biggest selling point of Xbox has always been convenience, which is why being more expensive than the PS4 was such a killer blow for the One. By turning Xbox into a digital brand, and by producing multiple Xbox machines for different markets, Microsoft will be able to create something sustainable.

They aren't the only console maker that may be shifting to a more flexible model. Every indication Nintendo has been giving about their otherwise secretive 'NX' project suggests that it will not be a traditional console. While some have taken this to mean that Nintendo will be, for example, turning their model into something like Vita TV, a more sensible conclusion can be made from two Q&A sessions between Nintendo president Satoru Iwata and investors.

Before 'announcing' NX, Iwata gave this answer to a question about the future:
I am not sure if the form factor (the size and configuration of the hardware) will be integrated. In contrast, the number of form factors might increase. Currently, we can only provide two form factors because if we had three or four different architectures, we would face serious shortages of software on every platform. To cite a specific case, Apple is able to release smart devices with various form factors one after another because there is one way of programming adopted by all platforms. Apple has a common platform called iOS. Another example is Android. Though there are various models, Android does not face software shortages because there is one common way of programming on the Android platform that works with various models.
The point is, Nintendo platforms should be like those two examples. Whether we will ultimately need just one device will be determined by what consumers demand in the future, and that is not something we know at the moment. However, we are hoping to change and correct the situation in which we develop games for different platforms individually and sometimes disappoint consumers with game shortages as we attempt to move from one platform to another, and we believe that we will be able to deliver tangible results in the future.
Then, when answering a direct question about NX:
 We will not announce any details about NX until 2016. I used the name "NX" during our joint press conference with DeNA on March 17 because we thought that our announcing the business alliance with DeNA to start a smart device business could result in such misunderstanding as "Nintendo is making a transfer to smart devices because it is pessimistic about the future for dedicated video game systems." I intentionally chose to announce the development of NX so early because I wanted to confirm the fact that we are developing a new dedicated video game platform, that we have never lost passion regarding the future for dedicated video game systems and that we have bright prospects for them. Though I cannot confirm when it will be launched or any other details of the system, since I have confirmed that it will be "a dedicated video game platform with a brand new concept," it should mean that we do not intend it to become a simple "replacement" for Nintendo 3DS or Wii U.
Your question also included the "current notion of thinking about home consoles and handheld devices." When it comes to how dedicated game systems are being played, the situations have become rather different, especially between Japan and overseas. Since we are always thinking about how to create a new platform that will be accepted by as many people around the world as possible, we would like to offer to them "a dedicated video game platform with a brand new concept" by taking into consideration various factors, including the playing environments that differ by country. This is all that I can confirm today.
From these answers, we can gather this much: NX will not simply be a handheld or home console; Nintendo wishes to have the flexibility to offer the right consoles for as many countries as possible; having two consoles to make games for has impeded Nintendo's ability to deliver games for both consoles quickly; Iwata favours a model like that of iOS or Android, where multiple devices run on the same platform.

From here, the pieces fall together quite nicely. NX will surely be the name given to the new platform on which multiple Nintendo devices run. Nintendo will be able to release their handheld and home machines as often as they feel necessary, to whichever markets will respond best, and down-res some games to work on less powerful devices. We've already seen two examples of Nintendo release more powerful versions of the same hardware - the DSi and New 3DS - so the concept shouldn't be too foreign. We know that Nintendo has been experimenting with getting the 3DS to run within the Wii U's framework, with some success. It wouldn't be too surprising if the Wii U is considered part of the NX generation either.

This would also mean no more of the difficulties with Virtual Console between generations, as games will be attached to an account, which can then download the game to every device that will come out in the future. The real question may be not with digital games, but physical games. I suspect Nintendo will do something along these lines: every disc has a unique code attached to it, so when you put it into your console, that unique code will be attached to your account. You can then download the game on other devices that are attached to your account (as long as they are capable of playing the game). If you want to sell the game or lend it to a friend, you can unattach the game, and every copy of the game on all your devices is locked out. Each copy can only be linked to one account at a time. This puts it on par with digital, and seems like the kind of approach Nintendo would use.

Looking at these two approaches from Microsoft and Nintendo, they actually seem rather similar. The only real difference is which devices are their focus, which is a result of the history of both companies. In both cases, everything seems to be pointing to a significant shift away from releasing one console every five or six years, towards emphasising the software platform on which multiple devices will run, released regularly.

This is, of course, no guarantee of being true. Check back in a few years from now.

Monday 8 June 2015

Alan Bond and a legacy of wealth

With the nation staring down the barrel of its first recession in two decades, it seems appropriate that the man most closely associated with our last downturn should pass away at this point in time. This is a moment in which we can reflect on the legacy of Alan Bond, a man who was both Australian of the Year and convicted fraudster.

There is some confusion in the media on how to best represent him. News has called him resilient, a tenacious man with a downside and a trailblazer who put WA on the map. Fairfax has gone the other way, emphasising the negative, describing him as a deal-maker gone wrong, leaving a bad taste and as the man who tricked Australia. The ABC has tried to straddle these two paths, with the usual 'hero and villain' and 'difficult to describe' paths. Not to say that this kind of balance is necessarily wrong in this case, it's just rather typical of the ABC.

The BBC only used one word to describe him: disgraced

The ABC's Ian Verrender was also more willing to move along these lines, in a way that did not merely critique the man (as Fairfax is), but examining the society which enabled him to do the things he did.

How is that a man responsible for losing billions of dollars of other people's money, a man renowned for his lack of empathy for those hardest hit by his deal making, and a man who always ensured he made a personal profit regardless of whether his companies were doing likewise, manages to paint himself as 'Bondy', a good bloke who will be missed?

It's worth looking at who those most likely to praise the man are. These are almost always people who had personal dealings with Bond. There seems to be no doubt that Bond's ability to charm was first rate. Even those sceptical of the man became susceptible to his ways. He seems to have had a natural ability to convince anyone and everyone that he would make everything work out.

It is a fundamental part of being human that we should want to believe others. We want others to tell us the truth, and when they can do it with such confidence like Bond did, we almost feel we owe it to them not only to trust what they're saying, but to defend them too.

Bond leading the charge for the America's Cup certainly helped. No matter that the funding was (probably) mostly done with other people's money, the win in 1983 managed to turn him into a national hero. 'He' took on the Goliath of the US, refusing to give up and, thanks to a bit of ingenuity, eventually won.

It turned a non-event into a national celebration, and cemented him in the history of the nation forever. Bond then spent the remainder of the decade borrowing, buying and selling, all off the back of that one campaign. He was a winner, and society was loving winners like never before. Winners, in the 80s, had wealth, and Bond promised immense wealth for you if you lent to him.

When it all came crumbling down, thousands upon thousands lost their own wealth. Bond didn't, and soon enough he had worked his way back up to the top of the tree, on the back of mining in Africa. No-one seemed to bat an eyelid at this convicted fraudster becoming so wealthy again. Bond was still, for many, a winner, and Australians love a winner.

This is the legacy that Bond leaves us with. He represented what many call the worst of the 80s - greed is good - and yet in his death we didn't see him being denounced for epitomising this belief. This was true in his life as well. It is understandable that we should not wish to speak ill of the dead in the immediate aftermath of their death, but it does not seem Australia will ever seem interested in facing up to the truth of Alan Bond. Today, though we may try to hide it, we're still a society based around personal wealth and in getting ahead of the rest. 

But if everyone wants to be a winner, some have to lose. What kind of society is that?

Friday 5 June 2015

Australia's economy: A disaster waiting to happen

On Wednesday we were told that the economic figures that came out were stronger than expected, thanks to some mild GDP growth. 

A day later, out come the figures for Australia's trade balance. The data showed that our trade deficit is the worst on record. At no point since 1971, the year these figures go back to, has the deficit been so bad. The deficit is worse than the previous low, which was at the height of the GFC.

That should be setting off alarm bells across the country, because, as far as I'm aware, the world economy is not in meltdown. The world is meant to be recovering, even those economies worst hit that aren't called Greece, and our economy is meant to be doing relatively well. The Treasurer was eager to compare us to the other OECD economies in Question Time yesterday, in order to prove that everything is fine.

So why is our trade deficit so shockingly bad?

Well, not for the first time, we seem to have fallen the resource trap, or as it is now well known as in Canada, the Dutch disease.

Our economy has been working off the back of two things: mining and services. These are the classic symptoms of Dutch disease. To meet the demand for our rocks, labour moved from our lagging manufacturing and agricultural sectors towards mining. Then, as our economy became richer, the increase in spending meant a greater demand for services, thus creating a shift in labour from the lagging sectors towards services. Our stronger currency increases the cost of buying these services as well.

Now the mining boom is well and truly over, and we have absolutely nothing else to make up the deficit.

As you may guess from looking at my profile picture, I rather like colours. There is a great resource which helps visualise how much our economy has changed is the past two decades: it's called the Atlas of Economic Complexity, and it's the work of Harvard University.

Let's compare the economic complexity of Australia in 1995 and 2013 (you can explore the charts in more detail at the links).



1995 exports


2013 exports

You can see for yourself how totally dominant mining has become. At the top you may also notice that the value of exports has increased enormously (although it is no longer as large as it was in 2013). The problem is not that mining in and of itself weakens an economy. Mining is, after all, necessary to provide us with the goods we use daily. The problem is when it becomes an overwhelming force which decimates other industries, leaving an economy in a parlous state when the mining boom ends.

This is not the only problem facing the economy. House prices have continually acted of their own accord, only moving in one direction. Up, and up, and up they've gone, thanks to a mix of low interest rates, tax breaks and deregulated lenders. Buying a home is both easy and expensive, a mix that does not bode well in a fragile economic environment.

But neither the government nor the RBA is particularly keen to do anything to change this situation too rapidly. The RBA is cautious because housing is one of the few areas of growth left in the economy. The government is cautious because any moves may well result in political and personal pain, as not only would the electorate be seriously affected, their own investments would as well.

Housing has become such a safe bet that every man and their dog is willing to buy. Household debt is at record levels, so any change in the situation could well tens of thousands of homeowners over the edge, forcing them to sell and thus causing a rapid drop in the house price. Oversupply of housing would certainly bring down the house price, but the rest of the economy probably comes with it.

Speculation isn't restricted to housing either. The stock market is acting as though nothing is wrong. As long as house prices are increasing, and stock market isn't falling off a cliff, it is easy for those in charge to pretend nothing is wrong. At worst, it just appears to be a somewhat mixed message. But the economic indicators that most impact the person on the street - unemployment, foreign investment (outside housing), growth, wages and the aforementioned exports - are going the other direction. Those in charge will not be able to pretend forever that nothing is wrong, because those the electorate will know that that is not true.

If something is not done soon, we will have a recession, and it may even be more necessary than the last.

Thursday 4 June 2015

Mohammad Sami is probably a zombie

Discussing Pakistan's selection decisions always seems to be a good way to a punchline, but when they select cricketers who are undead, how can the opportunity not be taken?

You may quibble with the idea that Mohammad Sami could possibly be a zombie, but I would ask you to first look at the evidence.

Zombies are notoriously aggressive, to the point of single-mindedness. Anyone who has watched Mohammad Sami bowl can confirm that yes, he is an aggressive bowler and yes, he can be fairly single-mindedness. That mind is to take wickets, and the runs expended getting those wickets is an afterthought, if it comes to mind at all.

Zombies use very basic attacks. Sami, too, uses the most basic attack in a bowler's arsenal: pace. He doesn't really do anything else. Cricinfo states his bowling style as 'right-arm fast'. For someone like Dale Steyn, this doesn't really convey the immense skill involved in their bowling. But for Sami? It's more or less perfect. He uses his right arm, and he bowls fast. That's it.

Zombies cannot feel pain. If Mohammad Sami has ever actually been injured and/or unfit, he doesn't show it. Compared to his teammates, Sami has always been a man of superb fitness, able to deliver long spells at pace and not break down. Some may attribute this to a fitness regime, but we know better.

And above all, zombies cannot die. At this point it seems that Sami, too, cannot die, as, having spent a number of years in the land of the living, he died in 2007 (cause of death: Indian Cricket League syndrome), and has now staged three comebacks, each as ineffectual as the last. Given he is meant to be 34 years old, he could still come back twice more before anyone else notices that something is wrong.

As for how he keeps getting selected...well, one can only assume that the selectors went to have a chat with him, and he responded by eating their brains.

So here's to you, Mohammad Sami, bowler of the undead. May you make unusual comebacks for years to come.