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#This translates entirely naturally—I think especially to an American audience—but it is wild once you notice it
ffcrazy15 · 3 months
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Someone needs to do an analysis on the way the Kung Fu Panda movies use old-fashioned vs. modern language ("Panda we meet at last"/"Hey how's it going") and old-fashioned vs. modern settings (forbidden-city-esque palaces/modern-ish Chinese restaurant) to indicate class differences in their characters, and how those class differences create underlying tensions and misunderstandings.
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yooleestruck · 4 years
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in which lee rambles about how great writers are
I don’t really know what this is. I don’t know if now is the right time to do this, or a really bad time, or if it makes any sense, but I want to talk about it! I feel like a broken record saying ‘the writing matters most, the writing matters most’ but maybe I need to show what I mean by that? So, here is an attempt. 
I’m sorry not all of these are the same length and not everyone is here, because every time I see that someone is a writer I do try to follow but I don’t always know/remember! Also I am weird about this sort of thing and don’t want to tag people in a monster-long post, so I’m just going to link. I also don’t want to make this a producers vs writers thing, it’s not, it’s just, when I say I notice writer-stuff, an explanation of what, specifically, I mean. 
Writers have a style fingerprint. I’m sure someone with an actual creative writing or English background could describe it all academic-ly, but my ex-chemist ass is just going to call it a fingerprint. 
My first game in Lovestruck was Starship Promise - I love Firefly, I’m a bisexual disaster scientist by education, it fit. But I had been REALLY put off by GIL when it first came out (this was back when they released stories in parts? And the heroine, which I will get to) and though I’d glanced at AFK, I mistrusted it after GIL and Medusa, who was who I was interested in, wasn’t out yet. So I resisted a LONG time.  I finally picked up LS and SP and played it explicitly because a friend said, you need to give this another chance, for a list of specific reasons. 
And when Atlas’s route came out, I read it a stupid number of times. I must have re-read his season 1 & 2 at least eight times apiece (he is still my most read route, despite the fact I have not read his last season because I want to leave the story open-ended)  so when I read Neil Dresner’s route, I recognized the fingerprint. Not only that, when I was reading Jett and the episodes with the paint scene (YOU KNOW THE SCENE) came out, my breath caught with how lovely it was, a particular in-between moment and touch, and even though it wasn’t a phrase I had seen, the style of it, had me re-reading (because it was gorgeous) again and again from the log for like five minutes and I thought, “I bet Melissa wrote this” AND SHE DID. 
Physical touch! (& in-betweens)
Melissa-grey has a particular way of writing about physical touch in very emotional moments that is very real and grounded and ironically the effect is just magical. It creates these so skillful “in between” moments, those little things that aren’t dialogue and aren’t metaphor but SHOW you that this closed off person is cracking for their little ray of sunshine. They are SO subtle and so beautiful, like, the heroine noticing the scent of a pillow, or a softening of an aborted hand movement.  She sets up and executes these moments of physical touch as a conduit for emotional touch with characters who aren’t ready to admit he latter and it’s DELICIOUS. Those little in-betweens are what I live for in story - and it includes all the supporting cast moments, who swell up to make the world feel lived in, and balanced (I loathe love stories where no one else exists! That’s a recipe for disaster, people need networks) I noticed when she stopped writing, and because I missed it, I went and bought the entire Midnight Girl series, as well as Rated (I hope that is flattering and not creepy!) and that style of writing is so unique, that without KNOWING, I picked it up in four separate routes (noticed in Sev’s s1, too!) 
Pacing (& friggen heartache)
Another fingerprint! Ripping your heart out! Arthoure has had me in tears, MULTIPLE TIMES and I get very grouchy about it every time because I am the least sentimental and romantic person that I know (I once MOVED STATES to avoid an ‘I love you’ conversation. I once said ‘yikes’ in response to an ‘I love you’ and I once broke up with someone because I thought he was going to propose. I’m a bitch) but I think it’s because of pacing! I know that producers play a role in that, but that actually makes it more impressive, because making each bit of story feel like it fits precisely the amount of space it needs when you don’t really get a say in how much space that is has got to take a MASSIVE amount of effort. Every little hint, every emotional beat, every character tell, they drop at a consistent build so the emotional payoff is just brutal (in a good, cathartic way?) every time a route makes me cry I wait and see and YEAH ITS ALWAYS ARTHOURE. The sweep and sentiment of Remy’s season 2 is unparalleled. Across Time is gutwrenching, and I actually stopped reading Renzei at one point because I was so emotional over it I had to like, LEGIT TAKE A BREAK to recover. Pacing and heartache. I have to stop and wonder - is it because the routes themselves are so gut-punching? OR is it because she knows how to wring every last emotional drop out of whatever story framework is handed to her? Because, Ezekiel’s villain costume is a bit silly (there I said it, it is) I get the cobra helmet shape in theory but in practice, ooof, but POINT BEING despite being skeptical I’d be able to take his story seriously as a result, I was hiccuping from crying so much (and I am gosh darn adult, in my thirties, with three degrees and a high-stress job at pretty major company. I DON’T CRY EASY)
 Dialogue (& heroines!)
Xekstrin is the gosh damn master of dialogue. Clever, witty banter that doesn’t go where you expect it to, meandering but natural topic changes that are delightful to follow and feel real, and--special shoutout for this, okay--the navigation of viscerally important topics like consent, kink, self-worth, power in relationships, self-sacrifice, and apologies in a way that is not stilted or forced at all (listen, I know Viv & Lyris are the most recent and they are amazing but I remember this first hit me when I was reading Astraeus, and I spent half the route with my jaw on the floor going, oh shit,  oh shit. The communication! The navigation of the complexity of emotion going on, chef’s kiss! Casual isn’t the right word, but, natural, maybe?). I don’t actually take that many screenshots of the app--it’s usually single lines that get me--but when I do, they are almost always conversations from one of her routes, because they’re so damn good, and often so unexpected, and yet always make such perfect sense for the characters involved. Dialogue is SO HARD OKAY. Actually try and transcribe a conversation sometime, it’s nuts how people talk vs how most people write people talking. Xekstrin also writes some of my absolute favorite MCs, and going back to fingerprints, I was reading Lyris s1 and right there in the first tavern scene, as we were following along with the heroine’s thoughts I went, ah, yes, I know who you belong to and I am SO EXCITED. Being able to give the heroine unique thoughts and quirks, to make her genuinely relatable, without overriding the necessary template of the genre dictates, is a skill all of its own. But I love her MCs! There is a beautiful balance of compassion, competence, and dash of bratty, wild, fun mischief. I can actually cheer for them. I can actually get behind them. I WANT the love interest to flop at their feet for who they are, not just because the story says so. And that comes from how the heroine’s thoughts are written, from her phrasing in conversations, how she sees situations, not just a producer saying ‘she is a strong lead who is self conscious about her ears and she’s nervous in the council meeting’ or whatever. I AM REALLY STRUGGLING to articulate this if you can’t tell from how long I have been blathering. Maybe this - the heroine is the same across every route, presumably, yes? Everyone has the same base. I NEVER question, when xekstrin is writing, why the love interest falls in love with her. Side note - I had hard written off GIL after a bad experience with the standalone app. I only read Aurora BECAUSE I learned she wrote it, and I would have SO MISSED OUT otherwise.
A complete aside in which Lee grumbles about heroines and not writers!
(Complete side vent: Often, the heroine is, if not a blank slate, a sort of collection of assigned traits, and she often remains so unless the story demands she become otherwise. Which is fine! I don’t personally, but I know a lot of folks self-insert, and so erring towards that makes sense. Almost all the otome I’ve played were originally written for a Japanese audience. When I played original Voltage games, starting back in 2014, I always had to remind myself - different culture, different culture, different culture, and it was not possible for me to relate to most of the heroines. I still enjoyed the stories, but I rarely cheered for the heroine’s romance, especially in some of the slice of life stories. I understood her, but I rarely wanted her to get with the love interest, I wanted her success to come in other ways! Another game company, Cybird, tried to ‘Americanize’ their heroine to IMO disastrous effect - it was such a stereotype, and made no sense since they didn’t also Americanize the context, so she come across as, frankly, ridiculous. And frankly, Voltage’s GIL heroine REEKED OF THAT. When they first posted her on social media I was legitimately annoyed about it, like could you lean into this more? I think not. So when I talk about being able to relate to and cheer for the heroine, it’s a big deal, because my blatant mistrust of Voltage and their ability to craft a heroine I could tolerate was a BIG factor in how long it took me to give Lovestruck a try. I was willing to tolerate it in translated stories, I was so skeptical of -en only ones.) 
Metaphors (& balance)
literacouture writes beautiful metaphors for connection between humans! I’m really bad at keeping track of who writes what, but I purposefully kept an eye out on tumblr after reading Cal’s route, because there were some lines that were pure poetry, and I wanted to keep an eye out for more. It is HARD to spin metaphors prettily without delving into trite, painful, purple prose cringe territory, and it’s navigated beautifully in Cal’s route. There’s a balance between those spin-out moments and things that are tangible and anchoring and make it feel authentic and unique to the two characters involved, instead of just ‘I am trying to make this sound romantic and this is a romantic phrase so here it is’. That balance is really necessary. You NEED the mundane alongside the metaphor or it doesn’t feel authentic. Also. Trying really hard to write this without throwing any authors or producers under the bus, but...listen. I love Sin with Me. But the world logic (or LACK THEREOF) drives me up a wall. I don’t read Cal because of his character traits or sprite or (sigh) his story. I read him because literacouture writes a beautiful romance.
 So anyway...
There are more! When I am less tired and don’t have meetings, I will try and write them up (Please know there are so many routes I love, and so many things I do recognize across chapters! I don’t even HAVE words for what theivorytowercrumbles accomplished with Helena’s story not to mention how much I adore Cyprin,  SummerLightning’s handling of Onyx’s past relationship was so deftly done when it could have so quickly become ‘milk abuse for plot’ and joidecombat gave Sev a fresh, mischievous energy and navigated the dream/reality line with SUCH skill, and so on and so on.)
I’ve written a lot of reviews. And I try to give nods where I feel they’re due - sometimes, it really is obvious that the whole team’s work came together to makes something great, the world, the plot, the arc, the art, the words, and the music all fit into place in a  well-crafted tour de force. And sometimes one piece or another is lacking, and I’ll admit I’ve left some...less than kind reviews to that end (I try and soften it, because I know there are humans on the other side of everything, but I’ve been harsh more than once with my opinions).  I’ve read routes with plots that made me want to tear my hair out because I DO value consistency and logic to a degree, even if I’m going to accept at face value that, say, space travel is a thing or demons turn to sand when stabbed. 
In the end, these are romance stories. So I will let a lot slide when it comes to plot. What sells a story are the words - not the outline.
And if Voltage doesn’t believe that - just remember that Hamlet existed long, long before Shakespeare wrote it. His was the version that lasted, because the people liked it best. The plot, the world, the characters, they all existed a hundred times over. Even just look at fan translations of manga. Why do people keep translating, even if someone else has? Because the words someone else picked don’t do the story justice. 
I don’t know. I’m talking in circles because I don’t know my own thesis! 
Maybe it’s just - the worlds these stories in are nice. But when I say I’m a fan of something, the premise is like. 10%. The rest is the writing. 
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dweemeister · 7 years
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The Man from Snowy River (1982)
With the greatest American actors that had ever appeared in an American Western dying or in the final stages of their careers, the Western genre appeared to be on the retreat in the 1980s. To the annals of time went Westerns like The Shootist (1976), starring an ailing John Wayne in a benevolent role, and Spaghetti Westerns like Once Upon a Time in the West (1968; Spaghetti Westerns were Western movies produced in Italy, with transnational casts that led to a lot of dubbing). But in 1982, one Western film emerged from a nation not often associated with the genre: Australia – bonus points if you can think up of two or more Australian Westerns and, yes, The Thorn Birds miniseries can count). The film is The Man from Snowy River, directed by George T. Miller – not to be confused of George Miller of Mad Max fame – and it is adapted from Banjo Paterson’s poem of the same name (Paterson is most famous for “Waltzing Matilda”). The Man from Snowy River is an uncommonly old-fashioned Western, given its story, but contains some of the most beautiful backdrops to any film released in its decade.
The Man from Snowy River opens with a young man, Jim Craig (Tom Burlinson), witnessing the death of his father, Henry (Terence Donovan). Henry is killed by a collection of stampeding wild horses known as the Brumby mob that will figure later in the film. Before inheriting his father’s lands, Jim must head down from the Snowy Mountains and find work. Away from home, unaware of what there is to see outside lands familiar and welcoming, Jim meets the one-legged backwoods prospector Spur (Kirk Douglas) and will begin work for Spur’s brother, Harrison (Douglas in a second role). At Harrison’s station/ranch, Jim meets Harrison’s young daughter, Jessica (Sigrid Thornton). They – you guessed it – fall for each other, and this coming-of-age tale takes off from there with plenty of beautiful horses and landscapes along the way.
John Dixon’s adapted screenplay tends towards the predictable– almost as if in the style of more serious Disney live-action films – especially in regards to the romantic subplot and Jim and Jessica’s deteriorating relationship with Harrison. Yet the writing accomplishes a depiction of two young adults in open rebellion against their boss (or in Jessica’s case, her father). The assumptions that yes, they know better than their elders – given Harrison’s temperamental habits and misogyny (he repeatedly threatens to send Jessica away to a women’s college when she is being disobedient, as well as physical punishment), it’s generally true for this story �� is bounded together by recklessness and youthful wisdom gained all too early in life. Compared to the male-centric poem the film itself is adapted from, Dixon’s adapted screenplay includes women characters, but never truly incorporates the feminism that Jessica is espousing to Jim and her father, never fully explores Jessica’s relationship with her female tutor. Unfocused as this storytelling can be at times and as soapy as plot developments can be, these are themes familiar to earlier American Westerns and gendered roles apparent in rural, post-colonial Australia.
The generational divides between the older Harrison and the two youngest people under his roofs become pronounced in the middle third of the film, as Jessica becomes openly defiant of her father, leading to a pre-climactic sequence that – without spoiling what happens – seems a bit too rushed, given that there is still plenty of time left in the film. Later, in the actual climax, Tom Burlinson – who had never ridden a single horse before shooting began – performs a dangerous horse stunt at an angle that will leave jaws hanging.
Speaking of Burlinson, his performance in The Man from Snowy River saw the young actor do all of his riding on-screen. When dismounted, Burlinson is a capable actor in his first feature-length film, yet strangely never became a bigger movie star in Australia or elsewhere (worse performances from young actors have translated into greater fame later). Burlinson is able to convey his youthful innocence effectively despite his inexperience. That innocence pairs well with Sigrid Thornton, whose performance is more assured thanks to several years of Australian television roles. For Kirk Douglas, his double performance is inconsistent. Though passable as Harrison, he is overacting as Spur – as if Spur is a more combustible, landlocked Ned Land from 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954).
Regarding their treatment of Jim and Jessica, Miller and Dixon – perhaps intuiting that Jim is a young man who has rarely met women his age before, and that Jessica is surrounded by roughhousing, bearded men many years older than her – frame the romance with such wholesomeness, that their more intimate overtures elicited some groans from yours truly. One extended montage of Jim and Jessica riding back to the Harrison homestead depicts them making out at several random times, returning immediately after a near-death experience for Jessica – “All I wanted to see you again. To be with you, nothing else. So I hung on.” This raises several questions, of course. As there had been no establishment of mutual attraction up until this moment, where the hell did Jessica’s feelings come from? And if they’re going to kiss so much on horseback, why not do it in greater comfort by stopping for the evening, lying down on a comfy knoll, and asking profound questions of which there may be no answers to? That might not be the most romantic plan of action, but it makes a hell of a lot more sense than Jim and Jessica providing suction for each other every hundred meters.
Cinematographer Keith Wagstaff might not have shot the film in Southeast Australia’s Snowy Mountains or along the Snowy River, but nearby in the Victorian Alps. For those unaware of Australian geography – and that is most of us including yours truly – the panoramic vistas of tree-lined mountains, sloping valleys, and craggy ridges alongside long-grassed openings are deeply rewarding as Miller and his editor Adrian Carr (who makes bizarre decisions in some of the moments including the Brumby mob) linger here, allowing the audience to soak the views in. Several seconds of Jim, Jessica, and a horse silhouetted by sunset recall early Technicolor films. Such red hues are prized by any filmmaker that knows how colors can strengthen their movie.
With a beautiful film score composed by Bruce Rowland, the only aspect that detracts from this element is that it sounds like Rowland’s orchestration – the selection of which instrumental sections receive which musical lines as well as how many players per section and in the entire orchestra – was constrained due to budgetary issues and might include some synthetic padding (if The Man from Snowy River was a Hollywood production – though distributed by 20th Century Fox – the film was primarily produced in Australia – a fuller, richer sound would have enriched the film). A deft balance between woodwinds, brass, strings, and piano – Jessica is a piano player, and even plays part of her own theme as diegetic music – for the competing melodic leitmotifs defines this score. Even “Clancy’s Theme” – derived from a hummed melody from a secondary character – is a welcome expansion of what might otherwise be a throwaway musical idea. It’s an economical score, and Rowland knows when his music should be emphasized and when it should not. 
The Man from Snowy River never quite found an audience outside of Australia, where it remains popular, and where fans of the film can also visit a replication of the Craigs’ hut. Six years later, a sequel – known as The Man from Snowy River II in Australia, Return to Snowy River in the United States, and The Untamed in Britain – was released by Walt Disney and also starred Burlinson and Thornton, reprising their original roles. In that sequel, Brian Dennehy replaced Douglas as Harrison. The film also was designated by Australia’s National Film and Sound Archive (Australia’s equivalent to the United States’ National Film Registry) as a cultural, cinematic touchstone, marking it for preservation for future audiences.
This film might not have inspired a resurgence in the Western, nor did it begin a surge of Australian Westerns to be exported around the world. Yet its influences from the grandest traditions of American Westerns combined with a unique Australian viewpoint and unabashed adoration of the horses – domesticated and otherwise – trotting and galloping to and fro makes The Man from Snowy River a delight to watch. The film has flaws aplenty and is hampered by not possessing more resources, but one always senses that life in those parts of Australia, in that time, was one filled with daily labors, a freedom that comes with living alongside nature.
My rating: 7.5/10
^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found here.
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