Palaven’s Moon

Alright, back to the action! As we know, the Council won’t help Earth. Each species wants to defend their own planet first, which isn’t completely illogical. However, the Turian Councilor meets with Shepard and Udina separately and suggests that the leaders of each world organize a war effort that bypasses the Council. His Primarch is a military general fighting on the Turian homeworld’s moon. Shepard will go there and recruit him.

However, when we get there, we learn that this general is dead. War with the Reapers is everywhere. The next in line for Primarch is another general defending a distant location. We march to him, fighting along the way. Also, we get a little backstory about the different races and some of the IP’s history (for those gamers who started the trilogy here). Garrus is with us, which is great. And the scenery, the game design, is utterly magnificent.

We find the general, inform him of his promotion, and take him with us on the Normandy. We’ve got one leader! Millions are dead, though, and the Turian military is overwhelmed. If we want to stand any chance, he says, we must convince the Krogan to join us. The Asari and Salarians won’t like this, but we need every species in the galaxy if we’ve any chance of winning.

CAPTAIN MARVEL/CAROL DANVERS, EIGHT

Her movie jumps around in time and her relationship to her superpower changes. All of these unknowns and variables make it hard to pinpoint her Enneagram. Let’s look at what we know at the beginning of her timeline.

She’s a pilot, a test pilot. Daring, physical, brave. She’s a beloved friend. She’s your basic Eight: outspoken, competent, and naturally heroic. Because Hollywood’s default position for most women superheroes is Eight, Carol is an easy call.

Reviews of the Captain Marvel movie and the Carol character are mixed. I recently watched it and can barely remember what happened. I’m going to say that’s because she’s an Eight. Nothing stands out, nothing distinguishes her. It’s too trope. She’s a cardboard cutout of a superhero whose powers are so hypercharged nothing poses a challenge against her. It’s hard to write plot conflict for a character like this, which is why she comes in as a deus ex machina in Endgame. Perhaps future iterations of her will develop into something more.

The Library

Brace yourselves. Anyone at all familiar with Avatar, knows what happens in this episode just from the title.

ONE

The gang stops in a rocky wilderness. 

Toph, touching the ground, says that actually a lot is out here. Aang shushes her: Don’t ruin the surprise. Sitting, he plays a flute that causes prairie dogs to pop up out of their holes and sing. (Sing is a generous term. Ouch.)

Plugging the flute end, Sokka stops him. “We should be making plans.”

Ah. They’re each picking mini vacations, regardless of Sokka’s protests. Well, Aang trains hard every day. On their down time they’ll do something fun. Sokka still argues. “We don’t even have a map of the Fire Nation.”

They’ll worry about it when they’re done. Katara’s turn to pick! (The singing prairie dogs must have been Aang’s choice?)

TWO

She chooses a pristine natural wonder that turns out to be a dried up water hole with raiders hanging about. At the bar they run into a man who recognizes Aang as an air nomad, a living relic. The Professor, very excited, questions Aang about air temple life. Jumping in, Sokka asks if the Professor has a more current map.

He does, but it’s mostly of the desert where’s he’s been searching for a lost library. As he extols the wonders of this library and its clever fox workers, he unrolls a drawing of the building with its domes and spires. Sokka wonders if this fabulous place would have information about the Fire Nation. Of course!

That settles it. Sokka wants his vacation to be at the library. Sadly, the Professor says, the desert is impossible to cross. 

Perhaps the Professor would like to see our sky bison?

THREE

When they go outside, the raiders are too close to Appa. The Professor shoos away the “sand benders,” who jump on gliders with runners, earth bending little dust devils to power the sails.

Continue reading “The Library”

The First Dream

We’re at the Citadel, rejected once again by the Council. We do the usual — tour the tower, meet some old friends, gather a news person who will travel with us. It’s no surprise. Atmosphere and some fun moments are good content.

When we return to the Normandy we transition into a dream. A foggy, wooded landscape surrounds us. Laughter, and there’s the Boy. We must chase him, moving through molasses. Finally, he stops, looks at us, and dissolves into flames. Waking, Shepard is shaken.

Is Boy a metaphor for Shepard of the suffering on Earth? Perhaps he’s just an avatar, a storytelling way of keeping the invasion in our minds, to keep us connected to the threat of the Reapers. Or, he’s a ghost, a former corporeal being who haunts Shepard. 

This sequence in the middle of a shoot-em-up game is pretty damned annoying, especially if the game glitches and I have to play it again in all its slowness and with no chance to skip. (Yes, that happened.) Boy is still twee, and I still feel frustrated by having to watch him at all. When a developer stops my action to give me feels, they’d better earn it. The ending of ME1 is an example of this done brilliantly. At an early point like this, though, I feel emotionally manipulated. I want to learn fight mechanics and try out my skills. I don’t want an author’s message.

To be continued later, if I’m remembering correctly.

O’BRIEN, SEVEN

She and Barrow are a team — my “evil smokers” — until they aren’t. She’s incredibly loyal. It’s only after Barrow spikes her nephew’s career that she turns against him. Her malignant twist against Cora is only because she thinks her loyalty has been spurned.

Is she, like Barrow, a Heart Type? She’s not particularly sociable. She connects downstairs with Barrow and upstairs with Cora. No one else has her friendship.

I’m leaning toward Seven. She’s extremely competent at her job, but she’s not a stickler for rules at all. Her interest in gossip, the thing she and Barrow conspire about, is mostly a desire to know things. She has a Head Type relationship to the world, and she doesn’t give a tinker’s dam whether or not anyone else likes her. 

Have I also just described a Five? Wait, no. She likes to gather knowledge but she doesn’t like to share it. A Five is a bit of a know-it-all who can’t resist educating the world. Because the plot focuses on her machinations, it’s easy to forget that she’s incredibly efficient and thorough as a lady’s maid. We often see her mending and tailoring at the servants’ table. The rules, though, are malleable. She’s a Seven.

THOMAS BARROW, FOUR

Hello, Envy person, lol! What’s funny is that he’s very good at his job when he isn’t scheming. He should have every expectation of rising in the service ranks. No one likes him, though, so no one wants to work with him. Lord Grantham and Mr. Carson try to get rid of him over multiple seasons.

Of course, underneath the villainous “evil smoker” (as I called him and O’Brien in my breakdown reviews) is a tender heart that wants to be loved. Because he’s gay in a social era of illegality and punishment, he can’t love. He tries and fails, risking freedom and his job. Prejudice against him, and the extreme caution he must exercise, explains some of his envy and separateness.

However, he’s also someone who likes yanking people’s chains. He and O’Brien love the downstairs game they play. They both like access to the upstairs and hearing the gossip. Thomas isn’t looking to break from his role in service, unlike other characters. He just wants to get to the top and become butler for a great house.

He must be a Four. It’s the self-wounding in the war. A Three wouldn’t choose that path. And he can’t be a Two, lol, because he has no collection. Also, Barrow feels the ups and downs so deeply. His gentleness with the children — he’s the only servant who gives piggyback rides — is that sweet side of the Four when joy is let out for a spin. And his suicide attempt is the darkness winning for a moment. He’s a Four drawn and acted with full complexity. Well done.

Mars

The Prothean archives have been on Mars forever. It’s the first alien ruin humans discovered before joining the galaxy. Now, though, as desperation kicks in, archaeologists, including Liara, give this site another look. Hidden here are plans for a Reaper-defeating weapon. The Protheans were so close to finishing it. We are to join with Liara and get this plan back to Alliance command.

However, Cerberus is after the same thing. They’re dressed as commandos, and they fight us for the Prothean information. When we lift the faceplate on one of the dead, we see he’s part-husk. At this point our old crewmate (Kaidan or Ashley) asks Shepard if she’s just a puppet, too, for Cerberus. They did rebuild Shepard, after all. 

Continue reading “Mars”

Bitter Work

Critical Notes, as always, follow the breakdown.

ONE

The gang camps in a rocky canyon. 

TWO

Aang wakes before everyone else, excited that he will finally begin to learn earth bending.

Sokka grumbles and rolls over in his sleeping bag.

THREE

A rock explosion, and Toph cheerfully bursts from her stone tent, ready to teach. Sokka moans, and Toph earth bends his bag into the air. Mumble-cursing, Sokka hops away.

Continue reading “Bitter Work”

TOBEY MAGUIRE’S PETER PARKER, SIX

Maguire’s Spiderman is like a retriever who always brings the slimy tennis ball to drop in your lap. The dog is so cheerful, so proud, and so annoying. And if you shoo the dog away you’ll feel terrible because you broke its heart. 

Maguire is the Pity Peter. He’s nice and he’s trying really hard to take down the villain. However, he went petty and nasty once and got his Uncle Ben killed. No amount of smiles will change that fact. Even Aunt May, after he confesses, has to leave the room and reorient her mind before she can look at him again. He’s so busy bringing the rancid dog toy back that MJ gives up on him and becomes engaged to someone else.

Lol, wow. Time has moved on and Peter, to me, has aged very poorly. I didn’t know I had such a harsh verdict within me!

You know what it is? I might hate the moment when Peter lets the robber leave. I mean, from a writing perspective. It’s not him. He’s so ingenuous at every other scene, so open and trusting and fair. The writers did him wrong here. He’s otherwise so vulnerable I want to say he’s a Two. That’s a mistake, though. Look at his brainy introversion! Peter is a Head Type; that’s why his spidey swings are so joyous. It’s nothing he’s ever experienced before or even knew he wanted. That’s also why — lol — he looks like he’s going to miss the next grab while he flails about.

He’s a Six. Rules, even rules about his own fear, are important. That’s another reason the robber scene is wrong. A Six wouldn’t break the rules, but he would cower. Overcoming his timidity would be a crucial step. Uncle Ben still dies, but it’s not because Peter was callous. A Six, someone stuck in his head, would never do that. The situation catches him by surprise and he fails. He chooses inaction and a default position of fear. It’s early in his career and he hasn’t embraced all that Spiderman can do. When we see this Peter again in No Way Home he’s mature, calm, and assured. It’s a great arc. However, it’s grounded in a man who lived in fear and overcame that weakness. It’s not based on a moment of petty revenge.

Reaping

The Reapers invade. Since the events of ME2, Shepard has been under house arrest. The Normandy was confiscated and Shepard’s been relieved of duty after she returned the hardware to the Alliance military. 

At least, I think that’s what happened. We only learn this through subtext while Captain Anderson brings Shepard up to speed now that her services are needed again. Her condition and reinstatement could’ve been told more traditionally, but instead we get the bang. As she addresses the Defense Committee, the Reapers arrive at Earth and blow everything to hell. Shepard and Anderson are on their own to — well, have a tutorial, lol — get to a shuttle. The graphics are astonishing. 

Humongous claw ships decimating the world make for emotional footage.

As Shepard follows Anderson through a building, something in the duct work catches her eye. It’s a boy, hiding. When she tries to coax him out, he says, “Everyone’s dying. You can’t help me.” A beat as she looks away, and he’s gone when she turns back. Actually, I’m going to name him Boy. He seems at this point like a twee ploy for feelings, but I remember that he’s more. I remember, honestly, that I hate his role in this story.

After a bit of fighting practice, Shepard arrives at the shuttle. Anderson stays behind to help with the battle for Earth. Shepard is to go on and convince the Council to help defend our homeworld. As the shuttle lifts off Shepard looks down at the other humans loading into other shuttles. There’s Boy, squinting up at her. He climbs aboard, and the two shuttles lift off. 

Shepard watches as both shuttles are cut by a Reaper beam and explode. Boy, assuming he’s a real person rather than a metaphor, is dead. Evocative music plays. (Why it’s the exact chord change as Rammstein’s “Wo bist du”, released years earlier, is a coincidence, I assume. Nice choice, though, if you’re going to accidentally borrow an existing work.)