Construction in Progress
I’ve been asked by a couple people how I build a game world when I’m working on it (mostly my brother, who’s trying to break into game design, but it’s a good place to start). So, for a little fun, and to talk about my world-building ideas with examples, I’m going to walk through the world-building process that I use.
Now, I know that some guides suggest you start small, and work out to get bigger from there. But when you’re coming up with the world’s basics, you need to start a bit larger… for example, what game system are you going to use?
I’m going to opt for three, actually – Iron Heroes
Iron Heroes is a very low-magic, high-”heroism,” version of 3.5. There are magic wielders, but magic is very dangerous to use. There are no clerics channeling the power of the gods to heal the sick and raise the dead. The world that it works best for is, thus, one that doesn’t use a lot of magic, one where it’s still a very young science, rather like chemistry in the first millennia… or, if not a young science, then one that was only recently rediscovered.
That idea appeals to me, actually. There was a time when magic was more common – however, for whatever reason, it went away, or at least regressed. This isn’t a young world, it’s one that’s very old… and that had a massive catastrophe in the past.
I’m actually going to delve into two different sources for inspiration here. First, questions about how the moon of our world was formed. Second, one of my favorite inspirational sources, Lovecraft.
Earth’s moon is an oddity – compared to all other worlds, it’s far, far too large… and too lonely, being the only one. Astronomers simply aren’t quite sure how it got there, or where it came from. Well, I’m not going to go for *exactly* that set of issues – I like the idea of multiple moons – but I will go ahead and raise the question of where the moons came from.
The ancient civilization that came before did have a moon in the sky… but they raised more. Why did they bother to put that much effort and time into building new moons? Obviously, because there was something that needed to be put Somewhere Else. Maybe cities, maybe creatures… and that’s where Lovecraft comes in.
Lovecraft’s work is rife with ancient, eldritch beings that can only be contained, not defeated. It’s also full of cities that are hard to reach, and parts of fantastical worlds – Kadath, for example, or R’lyeh. Let’s say we’ve got a world that *had* a series of wars like the ones Lovecraft outlines in Shadow Out of Time. Ancient beings, Aberrations in d20 terms, warring against each other… and, eventually, against their own rebelling slaves. Eventually, our ancient races managed to score a victory, but they couldn’t destroy their former masters entirely. Instead, they wielded powerful magic, that sent their cities into the sky, encased in massive orbs of stone, imprisoned for eternity. Of course, such powerful magic always exacts a price – the sheer amount of magical energy involved in such an act largely impoverished the rest of the world. What magic does remain is used at a potentially disastrous price – it weakens the bonds holding the Old Ones in their prisons. Worse, after so much time, the very energy of magic has been tained by the evil of the Old Ones – those who use Their power are slowly warped and changed by the exposure.
So, that’s the Iron Heroes (core) magic system explained, in this world. It also gives us things to build on later in the game.
At this point, our world has been rebuilding from the ‘cataclysm’ brought on by the loss of magic. Without magic, people have had to learn to maximize their skills and abilities – to do for themselves what wizards and clerics used to do regularly. This explains the pumped-up abilities of the classes in Iron Heroes.
How we tie this into the other systems later… I’m getting some ideas, but those are for much, much later.
So, are you getting any ideas? What sort of things would you like to see in this world? Let me know – maybe I can work them in through later posts.
Ultimate Tragedian
Who *wants* to lose?
Oh, sure, we all know it *can* happen. We know that the dice can fall the wrong way, the GM throws something at us that’s a bit bigger than we can handle, or we screw up the tactics and we end up losing the fight. Sometimes, our characters even get killed. That’s all part of the game… but it’s the part of the game nobody wants, right?
So what the *heck* is wrong with those people who *want* to lose?
I can certainly understand why it’s hard to… well… understand. We put a lot of effort and emotional investment into our characters, at least those of us who get upset to lose them. I know some people who find losing a character downright traumatic… and I can sympathize. Putting that much time and care into your character, only to see that character erased from the cosmos by virtue of the GM throwing a power at you that was rated for somebody three times your power level is irritating at best, and if you keep seeing your carefully wrought characters wiped out by random die rolls… particularly if it’s happened before you got a chance to *enjoy* the parts of them you spent so much time putting together….
Anyways, the trials of trying to RP in a pure hack-and-slash game aside, the fact is that losing *isn’t fun.* And, as we’ve been told by dozens of gaming books, the whole point of it is to have fun. Now, you can enjoy getting to the *point* where you lose, the fight and struggle to survive… but when you see that die turn up anything but the 6 you needed, you’re still bummed a bit. Sure, you had fun… but it would’ve been so much *better* to win. Leonidas might’ve become legendary, but imagine what would’ve happened if he’d *survived* Thermopylae (sp?)!
So when you meet somebody like me who not only quietly hopes to see, but *plans for*, his character(s) losing… it’s a little odd, to say the least. Not contingency plans, but actually *tries* to make it happen (possibly by conspiring with the GM).
Now… what’s the appeal?
Easy. Like those game books say, it’s not about ‘winning’ or ‘losing’ – it’s about telling a story. No story works out for the heroes every time – and most stories of the sort that our characters go through include at least one example of somebody biting it for the greater good. Less so in superhero settings, but dramatic losses and sacrifices remain a major part of the genre, and something that can be fulfilling to RP.
It’s not wallowing in angst that’s the appeal, by the way. I know some people, courtesy of a certain Game Which Shall Remain Nameless, mistake emo for emotion, and hopelessness for tragic roleplaying. Now, this is purely my opinion, but that’s missing the point completely. It’s not that your character has no chance to win… usually, there is *a* chance, but even when there isn’t, that’s not the appeal. The appeal is exploring how the character – or, in a broader sense, the world – reacts to that sort of situation, and the loss that often results from it.
Do you look around, see that you don’t have a chance, and then roll over in defeat? Or do you stand up and fight, shaking off the fact that Things Aren’t Good? If you suffer a major lapse in character, do you wallow in self-pity and misery, or do you get up, admit that you did wrong, and work to make things better?
If you die, does it mean anything?
Now, at least for me, *these* are the parts of the story that make the tragedy worth it. This might actually deviate slightly from the base Tragedian archetype; somebody who likes tragedy for its own sake. I happen to feel that that sort of Tragedian is particularly rare, however. Most of us aren’t having crises heaped upon us and enjoying the sense that our characters can never get ahead in the world… we’re accepting the fact that those sort of things have to happen to set up the larger victory.
So… how does all of this help out any? Here’s a handy list of tips for GM’s with Tragedian players. 
- Find out if you actually have one. As alluded to above, even Tragedians think it sucks to lose a character you’ve worked on before getting the payoff of role-playing them. Sometimes, particularly if you’ve had GM’s who thought your interest in tragic characters meant you had cheerfully painted a target on your forehead, you’ll avoid letting on that that’s the sort of thing you really want. Often, simply *asking* what the players want out of a game is sufficient to find out, particularly if you do so in a forum where the players can avoid the others finding out – sometimes it’s more fun to spring it on the others that Leo is going to die when the time comes, get honest reactions to it. In my opinion, that’s always sound advice, regardless of who you’re trying to satisfy.
- The Tragedian is your friend. To a certain extent, if you’ve found a Tragedian in your game, you’ve just found your official whipping boy. Plot dictates that somebody dies? We’re *generally* least likely to mind it being us, particularly if it’s meaningful, or we get some say in what happens. Need to kidnap somebody? Some of us would *love* to be the victims, particularly if we get to play at the horrors that may have befallen us in the process.
In general though… - Communication is key. If possible, try to trust your Tragedian enough to not spill the beans about the plot, and if you’re planning on working in some new calamity, run it by him first… at least if he’s the victim. Speaking for myself, I happen to enjoy having a bit of warning, some time to figure out a likely reaction and maybe to offer a few twists to the GM. I’ve been known to spot the GM digging the grave out for my character, and grab a shovel myself to help dig it deeper – if my PC is about to lose a loved one, I’d rather it be in as heart-wrenching a manner as I can come up with… sometimes, anyways.
- Just because it’s a tragedy doesn’t mean you can’t have a happy ending. Some Tragedians – indeed, probably most – prefer for the tragedy to set up and make more brilliant their eventual victory. After all… if Spidey just curled up into a ball and whimpered when things got rough, hanging up the mask, it wouldn’t be much of a story, would it?
- Not all Tragedians are created equal. Some of us are simply masochists – we’ll take whatever the GM throws at us, knowing that this ultimately sadistic soul will offer up the punishment we so crave.
Others are somewhat more discriminating, and tend to fall into one of the following “sub-types”:
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- The Phoenix (2 varieties)
- The Victim
- Hamlet
- Romeo and Juliet
- The Fallen
- The Falling
- The Redeemed
- The Survivor
- The Dying
- The Beast
A few more details on each might be handy, so here they are. Not only a description of the sorts of tragedies that they go for is included, but often some suggestions for where to ‘end’ the story. This doesn’t have to be the end of the game, or even the character, though it often is – rather, this is the “payoff” that the Tragedian is usually ultimately working towards with this type of tragedy, the ‘big moment’ in their story after which the rest is picking up the pieces… at least for a while, which is sometimes a part of the payoff itself.
The Phoenix (Version 1):
I’d never really thought about it before that day. Superheroes… they were as crazy as the villains, I’d always thought. Sure, I had my own little gifts, but why should I take them and gone out to stick my ass on the line? There were other supers out there, and I didn’t much like the idea of getting killed.
Then I watched while two of them dueled above the city… and for once, the hero lost. Copperhead had been playing for keeps; he’d slaughtered Mongoose and thrown his broken body to the ground for all the world to see. Well guess what… I saw. I saw, and I finally realized what it was that drove some of these people to do what they did. They were sick of seeing what happened when assholes like Copperhead got to run around free… so now I’m going to bring him in. Bring in the whole bunch of them.
Hope Mongoose doesn’t mind my borrowing the name… but it seemed fitting.
The Phoenix (Version 2):
My arm burns from where he hacked off my hand… at least the bleeding’s stopped. But I know that it’s only the beginning of the pain I’m about to endure. I wish there was another way to do this… another way to stem the tide. But if I’m going to beat Whitefang next time, I’m going to need more than my armor. I’m going to need a new power… going to need a new way to fight him.
I’m going to need a new name and soul.
My claws sink into my own flesh as I pluck my eye out, sacrificing it to Mimir’s Well in a grim homage to Wotan. The chains lash out, binding me, biting into me, lifting me up above the Well as the waiting begins.
But I will endure… because I know that she’ll be there, waiting for me, when it’s all over.
The Phoenix, in either variation, is one of the more difficult Tragic archetypes to fulfill without the GM’s help – because they’re one of the few characters for whom grievous injury or even death is basically nothing more than a Radiation Accident. Type 1 Phoenixes (Inheritors, alternately) are actually two entirely different characters in one – at some point in time, possibly before the campaign began, the original character died or was forced to retire, and the second picked up the mantle. This can be particularly interesting to play when you take *both* characters in the game proper.
The Type 2 Phoenix is similar, in that the “core” tragedy for this type of player is serious injury or death. However, rather than putting a new person in the old role, the same one will come back… eventually. In Tyr’s example, he lost a hand and an eye but came back with an entirely different powerset than his Power Armor origins.
The injury doesn’t *have* to be his, by the way. In another example of mine, Huntsman was the team leader. In a disastrous battle, most of the team was injured and one team member was apparently killed. Hunstman apparently had a breakdown, disappearing for months. When he came back, he had become the Specter, having browbeaten the team Mystic into binding him to the spirits of great heroes who had fallen against the villain who’d so soundly thrashed them.
The key for most Phoenixes is seeing their new character take on the very force that destroyed the old, and win… and then getting to pick up the pieces of the life that existed before, whether filling its shoes or trying to fit back into them after changing so very much.
The Victim:
Chillzone had never been quite the same since she’d been rescued from the Monster. She didn’t want to talk about it, but everybody could tell that what had happened had affected her deeply. It couldn’t have been her injuries… they hadn’t been that bad, and she’d suffered much worse before.
But then… as Solitaire had been quick to point out after helping with the rescue, the Monster might not need to leave physical marks to injure somebody.
Victims can be one of the harder types to work with. In a way, they closely resemble the ‘masochist’ baseline – they enjoy having the chance to play up all manner of horrors befalling their character, usually beyond their control. However, Victims are separated from the masochistic sort largely because, rather than enjoying the ‘pain’ for its own sake, they enjoy the chance to play a character who’s not only legitimately psychologically troubled… a common thread among Tragedians… but has a good reason for it. Kidnappings are easy ways to play towards this… but other crimes, that go farther, can work too, as long as nobody’s made too uncomfortable by the subject matter.
There’s often an element of revenge associated with victims, as with most Tragedians. Eventually, playing through the emotional wreck that was caused by whatever happened will begin to get a little old, and have to move on – at that point, the obvious place to take your average Victim is back to the scene of the crime, in one form or another, to find some measure of justice for what happened to them.
Hamlet:
It wasn’t supposed to end this way. I was supposed to come riding in, my comrades at my back, and make it all better. I was supposed to slay the King… reclaim my family’s honor… leave his kingdom in the chaos mine was left in.
So why is it that, even after ripping the head off of his pet wizard, I can’t touch the bastard with sword or spear? What sort of magic is it that he wields *himself*?
I remember the warning I was given… that no weapon could harm the Dark King… that it was a dead man’s folly to try. And it gives me an idea.
I throw down my urgrosh and raise my shield, charging through a hail of blows that bite deeply into the metal, that shatter armor and bite into my flesh. As I get too close for him to use his sword, he draws a slim dagger. As he slips it through a chink in my plate mail, I throw the shield aside, taking the death blow gladly as I wrap my arms around him.
“Let’s see how you handle a hundred foot fall under dwarven armor,” I grin grimly, using the last of my strength to push us both off the battlements. And I know by the scream he lets out, the last thing I hear before blackness and blood loss take me, that he knows this will kill him.
Hamlets, like their namesake, have a goal they’re after. The trick is, they want their victory to be a Pyrrhic one. They want to make the noble sacrifice, giving their own lives – and possibly those around them – for the final, complete victory over their foes. Hamlet might have preferred it another way… but for this Tragedian, if Hamlet hasn’t lost everything, then he hasn’t really proven his willingness to sacrifice it. Sometimes, even a total loss will satisfy them, so long as the character has actually lost *meaningfully*, after a lengthy battle or putting things into place that will let their quest be finished.
Romeos and Juliets:
Somehow… it always manages to go wrong. I don’t know why… I’m faithful, I do my damnedest to keep dates, I shower them with affection. This last time, I even thought it was going to work out, right up until the end. After all… she even knew about the trickier parts of my life, the parts that I had to keep secret from most of them. But I guess, somewhere along the line, I forgot what always happens when I start to think that….
The Romeos and Juliets out there are relationship masochists. They’re a hybrid of the Tragedian and the Romantic; they’re happiest when their character is in a relationship… or when that relationship is being ripped apart, throwing their character into a depression that risks consuming them, whether it be in self-destructive misery, or in an all-consuming quest for vengeance. Alternate forms of Romeos and Juliets include the Lancelot, whose taste for forbidden love leads inexorably to tragedy, the Ichigo, who always falls for somebody from the wrong side of the good/evil line, and the Aladdin, who have a tendency to find themselves questing after the object of their affection after being separated from them. Eventually, they might actually *find* that lasting love and relationship they’re after… but many times, this will be the end of the character as a regular PC. After all… once you’ve finally saved the Princess, are you really going to go out and risk losing her again?
The Fallen:
Bunch of idiots…I’ve seen their kind before. Hell, I was one of them once. They think they can fix the world just because they’ve got good intentions. They’ve got a foolproof plan, a chance to take out the lynchpin of the Empire, and once that’s gone the entire house of cards will fall apart. Freedom will bloom, and gumdrops, wonderful gumdrops, will rain from the sky!
Morons.
I finished my drink and told them exactly what I thought of their plan. Told ‘em I’d done the same damned thing – they knew that, or they wouldn’t have been talking to me. And I told them that all it got me was a year of torture before I managed to escape with my life. No way I was going to go through all that again.
Then the Stormtroopers showed up, looking for them… and damned if I wasn’t the first one to grab my blaster and start shooting when it became clear they weren’t going to get out of it.
Somehow… it always turns out this way. Maybe this time I’ll manage to get myself killed, get it over with once and for all.
More than any of the other archetypes, the Fallen prefer for their tragedy to be off-screen… normally because it’s a lot easier than putting it on-screen when it’s usually solo and separated from their fellow players. At one point or another, Something Bad happened that left them broken and cynical… they might even start the game preferring to stay miserable than to do something to change it (apparently). But events keep pushing them back towards their destiny, whatever that might be – ultimately, despite their belief that there are no heroes, only fools, they don’t really have a choice but to be a bit of both. Eventually, they might even embrace it… and that’s when the Fallen feel that their hero’s journey is complete, however it might end.
The Falling:
Another day, another dollar. Up before dawn… remembered to sleep last night… into the bathroom. Feel like Hell today. Need go get my brain in gear before I get back to work on the Huntress suit….
Damn, only six pills left. Going to have to find another doctor soon, one who’s busy enough he’ll prescribe it without checking up on how long I’ve been on this stuff. Hate having to jump through these hoops, but it’s the only one I’ve found that does the trick.
I drink down the pill, lock the medicine chest, and head back into my room to get dressed for the day. Time to get to work….
The Falling are the opposite of the Fallen… or, more accurately, they’re a Fallen tragedian who starts earlier. They enjoy playing characters with a flaw. The Fallen might have had an external force drag them screaming into the abyss, but the Falling usually go that way themselves, walking towards the cliff with no dog to save them. It might be an external force of sorts, but usually there is some internal element – whether obsession, addiction, or arrogance – that drives them towards their eventual collapse. The payoff isn’t necessarily in the fall, but in the fallout from it, and the recovery. However, the Falling are particularly prone to creating disruptions in games… not necessarily bad ones, but if the other players are likely to take offense to somebody “screwing around” and doing things with less than tactical perfection, Tragedians in general and the Falling in particular aren’t necessarily going to mix.
The Redeemed:
I know what they’re thinking as I walk down the street. They all recognize me… the trial saw to that. My face was everywhere, and I was the star defendant when they finally took down the Nest. I know they’re whispering behind my back… wondering if I’ve really gone straight. But I can handle this… I’ve handled it for a long time. I’ve got my little girl back now, and that makes it easier… she’s managed to forgive her Dad for what he’s done, even if nobody else has.
Then I see the familiar green tattoo sticking out from under the sleeve of one of the people walking around. Sloppy… most of VIPER’s assassins are more careful than that. This one must just be a thug who wants to make a name for himself.
“Hon, I just remembered something,” I lie apologetically. “Could you take Becky, get some ice cream while I go take care of it?”
Jenny doesn’t fall for it for an instant… she knows better. But it works for Becky.
“C’mon, hon,” my ex-wife smiles falsely, taking our daughter off somewhere safe as I continue towards the fight that’s going to come.
At least now I don’t have to screw around with a costume anymore….
When you take a Falling character, and make them play out their tragedy prior to the game starting, you get the Redeemed. Usually it’s a more obvious flaw – they might have had smaller flaws, but more often these are your ex-villains and crooks who’ve gone straight and are fighting to overcome their past. They’re very similar to the Fallen in that respect, but usually they didn’t have the ‘good luck’ to pick a socially acceptable means of becoming a tragic figure.
The Survivor:
The knives swirl through the air, slashing and stabbing at Mick as he screams. He deserves it all though… God, the things he’s done? He deserves infinitely more than I can give him. For my sister… our friends… for –
A scream breaks me out of my sleepwalking, and I look around, gasping, disoriented. There’s a knife sticking out of the kitchen wall… damn it.
I start running to see if anybody was actually hurt during the storm, or if I’d just scared somebody….
Similar to Victims, the Survivor enjoys tragedies that involve being the butt of the cosmos’ horror stories. However, while Victims thrive on being… well… victimized, the Survivor needs to come out of it. They don’t need to actually *be* the victim either – it can be somebody around them. In Razor’s case, she was the only survivor of a group of her friends and sister. What drives them on isn’t necessarily a character who’s haunted by their own personal experiences, but by the sense that they shouldn’t have lived through it either. Revenge *might* be an element, but not always – often as not, simply coming to terms with the fact that they lived and others didn’t, going on to prove that they were worthy of that quirk of fate, will give them what they’re after.
The Dying:
I wince, clutching my side as my body fights against itself, the painkillers wearing off. There’s no time to go get myself suitably medicated again though… not now. Not with the others still on the line of fire.
The Iron Tyrant hurls a blast of energy at them; Waveform barely deflects it with a shield of light.
“Hey! Asshole! Over here!” I snarl, jumping out from behind cover. I’ve been cowering long enough, hiding instead of helping. I lash out at the armored villain, my powers creating a hellish world where sound is color, touch is taste, and his nightmares lace through reality with the metallic tang of blood. The worst trip he’ll ever take. It’s only a distraction, just enough to make him focus on me. As the bolt of plasma consumes me, I can see that Steel’s gotten the chance to get into the air and take him down, putting his fist through the Tyrant’s armor and ripping the man right out of it.
Funny… I’d always thought death would be slower than this. Just as well… who wants to die in a hospital bed anyways?
Like Doc Holliday, the Dying Tragedian knows that his character is going to die eventually. The idea isn’t to save them – it’s to make sure that their death is meaningful and that it doesn’t pass unnoticed. This is one character, much like the Phoenix, needs a lot of help from the GM to work out, particularly in a Champions game where lethality isn’t as often a factor.
One crucial difference between the Phoenix and the Dying exists though – the Phoenix didn’t plan on dying, even if the player did. The Dying is a character who knows his time on this Earth (or where ever) is limited, and often lives accordingly.
The Beast:
I look around me, the Other savoring the pain of my fallen comrades, clamoring for the souls of those who won’t make it. Razor’s body falls to the ground near Destroyer’s feet, broken, shattered despite her desperate attempt to use her powers to turn his armor against him.
“You can end this, boy. Give me what I want, and I’ll leave,” he bellows at me. The rage wells up inside of me. He knows what it will cost the world if I do what he wants… but he doesn’t care. He just wants his immortality, even if it means destroying everything I hold dear to get it from me.
“You want the full power of my gift? Then so be it!” I raise my hands, the palms opening up into hungry, toothed mouths, my tentacles writhing as I undo the blocks on all my powers. The mouths of my hands start chanting, speaking the words my own cannot, as my costume is ripped from my body, exposing my blasphemous form to the world. The sky darkens, clouds swirling as the Gate begins to open.
“This is what you wanted, Destroyer!” I scream at him. “The power of immortality, granted to you by my father!” My own mouth joins the chorus, chanting the spell, working the magic that could well bring about the end of the world. Hours ago I had refused to do this for just that reason. Now… I don’t give a shit anymore. I weep for the world I risk condemning, but my blackened soul, the soul of the Other, surges with glee at the thought of unleashing Vulshoth, of turning him loose on Destroyer.
Of proving to this arrogant son of a bitch that he isn’t the greatest power in the cosmos.
I think I see the flash of comprehension in his eyes, just before my Father drags him screaming through the gate to the Qliphothic Realm. The power of the Shining Darkness rushes through me, filling me with malevolent might… and, mercifully, Father retreats. Destroyer was not a sufficient sacrifice to unleash him… but it was enough to unleash the taint of his realm.
What monsters have I given birth to today?
As qliphothic power warps my body, I know exactly why my aunts and uncles had debated so strongly over whether or not to kill me as a child… and I curse them for not having the courage to do so.
The Beast’s power comes from a tainted source – demons, beasts from the Qliphothic Realm, an inner rage that transforms him into a psychopathic murder machine, something that leaves him with the destiny of destroying all that he holds dear. Sometimes – indeed, some might say inevitably – matters will come to a head, leaving the Beast with three options:
- Do nothing, and fail completely in the short-term.
- Do something, and pray that it’s enough
- Do everything you can… and risk destroying the world around you.
To the Tragedian, this choice is the entire point – what *will* they do. And if they choose #3… how will they make it better?
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As you *might* be able to guess from the fact that I’ve got characters under each of those types (some ones that I’ve played, some ones that I’m playing, others entirely new), characters can also fall into the different archetypes as well as the Tragedians who play them. Indeed, it’s more common for that to be what happens – you want to tell different stories every once in a while, after all, explore different responses and causes. With that in mind, we come to what actually puts this in something other than the “Gaming Discussion” forum (I *think* – if folks disagree, feel free to move it) – crunchy bits! Advice on how to *build* these tragic figures, for both Tragedians who want ideas, and other types of players and GM’s who want to dabble a bit.
The Phoenix:
Rules-wise, both types of Phoenix are actually pretty easy to handle – nothing all that fancy about them. However, for Type 1’s, disads like “Tries to live up to the legacy of X” or “Questions his suitability as the new X” (both Common, Mod, 10 points) are good, as are Reputation: Inheritor of the Mantle and inherited Hunteds.
For Type 2’s, Physical Lims and Distinctive Features are often handy. They’ve gotten themselves beaten down most thoroughly, and should usually show some scars from it. Further, again, inheriting many of the prior version’s Disads is generally wise.
For both types, the GM needs to plan ahead a bit to give opportunities for the “radiation accidents” that lead up to the changes this character will go through. Large, lethal opponents with a reason to focus on them are a good idea – for example, in Tyr’s case, he was an alien defector who lost his hand fighting against his old commanding officer during the inevitable invasion. In Mongoose’s case… well, you don’t make “taking down VIPER single-handedly” your primary goal without putting yourself high on several people’s hit lists.
The Victim and the Survivor:
Again, Psych Lims are the way to go… if you were victimized before the game began. Maybe a couple Physical lims and Distinctive Features, but the meat of this character will be in the mental mess they represent. Lims like “Vengeance Seeking” or “Chronic Nightmares” are handy, as are ones like “Suicidal” or “Death Wish.” Depending on how the character has reacted, you might also take things like Paranoid or Loner; once bitten-twice shy, after all. Sleepwalking is a particular favorite of mine… as is the following:
Physical Limitation: Sometimes Loses Control of Powers (Unc., Greatly impairing,) 10 points.
If you’re going to be victimized *in* the game… then build a normal character. The GM *might* be willing to let you switch a few disads around when the time comes, but don’t count on it. However, before you suffer your loss… you *are* a normal character, so you should keep that in mind.
Hamlet:
Obsession, obsession, obsession! Psych Lims are going to be a recurring theme here, so get used to it. “Obsessed with achieving X” is your friend for the Hamlet, as are Hunteds (agents of your enemies), and probably a good dose of Unluck.
Romeo and Juliet:
If I have to say “In Love with X,” then you’re not paying attention. Oddly though, standard DNPC’s aren’t so much a good option – they tend to get offed for some of these sorts. Floating DNPC’s though… welcome to 14- territory. Various quest and relationship-based disads are good ones too… or, if you’re going to have lost a loved one before the game started, “Doesn’t Want a New Relationship” quickly becomes a somewhat counter-intuitive approach that works well.
The Fallen and the Redeemed:
You should remember that these characters are usually veterans, of life if not of whatever the campaign’s about. Dependencies, a few “save my own skin” psych lims, old injuries… these are all handy. Disads related to whatever caused the Fall are also necessary; Enraged is sometimes useful (it certainly was for Doruth), but “Doesn’t Want a New Relationship,” “Chronic Nightmares,” “Loner,” “Civilians Don’t Get It” and similar things all fall into the same general category.
Don’t underestimate Hunted and DNPC’s though, particularly for the Redeemed – one rarely leaves the demons to join the angels without making the demons angry. Reputations are good too, though many Fallen live with (effectively) a Secret ID, and many Redeemed with a more Public one.
The Falling:
Like a pre-victimization Victim or Survivor, you’re mostly a normal character… but you should have at least one *major* character flaw. In Huntress’ case, she had two related ones – she’s addicted to methamphetamines, having been taking a prescription for them for years longer than she was supposed to be, and as a result she suffers from occasional paranoid jags that only get stronger as she goes into withdrawal when she can’t get her fix. Just remember that the entire *idea* is that this flaw is going to end up ruining your life, mostly… and, again, the GM might not be willing to switch your disads around when the time comes. If he is though, Fallen and Redeemed advice applies.
The Dying:
Psych lims aren’t as handy here, really. “Death Wish” or “Reckless” can be good, but the ones to look for here are the Powers and the Phys Lims. Terminally Ill, a Dependence on different medications, these are all good, if not necessary for the Man who is Going to Die. Similarly, Uncontrolled Side Effects is a good limitation to take, especially on “big gun” powers.
If he is *known* to be dying, the following might be appropriate:
Social Limitation: “Made of Glass” Syndrome (Common, Greatly impairing, 15 points)
The character is known to be gravely ill… which leads some people to assume that he’s fragile as well. They’ll tend to jump to do things, which sounds good until it’s happening to you – they encourage a feeling of helplessness out of sheer good-will. Others will avoid the character entirely, whether out of not wanting to hurt him, not wanting to associate with somebody who could die, or not wanting to risk catching whatever it is they have.
And some will decide to try and help him along… this is particularly true of more sadistic villains.
GM advice includes not just the usual “prepare for this character to have a chance to die heroically,” bits, but also a recommendation to consider giving out a “freebie” batch of points for the purpose of buying a “big gun” power that *will* kill the character – 15 points from “Dies if uses Power X” (Unc, Total) will actually often do the job, particularly if the power is suitably Limited (in this case, I recommend ignoring the “If it’s not a limitation, it doesn’t count” rule for things like 1 Charge, Non-Recoverable). After all – it might not be much of a limitation, but they *are* going to die when and if they use it… that’s worth more than 15 points, I think.
The Beast:
Various “disconnected from humanity” or “guilt” oriented psych lims are good… but Watched or Hunted lims are, perhaps, even better. Most powers should be bought with Side Effects of various sorts, and for Mystical Beasts, often with RSR’s and massive Side Effects reflecting the tendency to occasionally summon a King of Edom or something of the sort. Social Limitations reflecting whether or not people know about the character’s tendency to make Bad Things happen are also pretty good, as are Reputations.
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So… 13 pages or so of ‘brief’ rumination on Tragedians. If you actually slogged through all this, congratulations. If you’ve got any particular thoughts you’d like to add to the thread… well, that’s largely why it’s here! 
Hope to see this turn into an interesting little discussion.
Not dead yet!
Honest, despite the lack of postage so far, I’m not dead. As a matter of fact, I just got back from seeing a new film for y’all!
So, what film was it? What film is currently in theaters that could possibly have convinced me to leave work early, go to a theater expecting to spend the next 99 minutes sitting in a too-tight seat with a soda bought at 4 times the sane market price, and pay at least a quarter of the price of the DVD for the privilege of the seeing the movie a month or two earlier?
Paranormal Activity. And, despite what you might be hearing in reviews, it was totally worth it.
For the most part, the charitable reviews I’ve been seeing say that you need to see the film in a packed theater, at a midnight showing, in order to really get any impact out of it. Bull. All you need to be willing to do is to pack your expectations of a thrill-a-minute ride up. This isn’t [Rec], this isn’t Cloverfield, this isn’t Saw or Prom Night or any of the other roller coaster films that have been making up the horror genre for the last decade or so (not coincidentally, about the last time I went into a theater without a date attached to the trip).
Paranormal Activity isn’t the sort of movie that was designed to appeal to that type of audience. It’s not a mystery either – they make it clear pretty early on that it’s not a haunted house, it’s a haunted person, and that the haunting is ‘demonic’ in nature (ie, not a human spirit). It’s a character study, built to focus on two people dealing with the strange things happening around them. And, as that, it’s an excellent film.
Our two principles are both very good actors, capable of portraying what’s going on. I’ve read some people complain that the boyfriend’s behavior is ridiculous… well, no, not really. Yes, he’s been told by a psychic (who he doesn’t believe in) that a demon (which he probably barely believes in) is haunting his girlfriend and wants to do Bad Things to her. He proceeds to ignore the psychic’s, and his girlfriend’s, advice and go get a Ouija board to speak with the haunting force so he can try and figure out what’s going on and end the haunting. This is horribly ridiculous behavior, because he knows better.
Well, no, he doesn’t. This guy is summed up for us very, very quickly – junior ghost hunter. He’s the sort of guy who sincerely believes that all he needs to know about ghost hunting, he learned from watching Paranormal State and The Exorcism of Emily Rose. Exorcisms are horribly, horribly dangerous, don’t always work, psychics aren’t really real, and when in doubt, provoke the spirit until it gives you some sign of what it wants so you can yell at it until it goes away (seriously, it’s the story of probably 3/4’s of Paranormal State’s cases, and I like the show). Well, in that case, of course he has to give it some way to talk to him.
Why is he trying to do this himself, instead of trusting the experts? The guy’s a day-trader – a punk kid who’s managed to earn himself enough money to own a very nice house with a pool in San Diego, back in 2006 (frankly, given the state of the current economy, being taken out by a demon was probably less painful than living through 2008/09 would have been for him). He’s a self-made man, literally – a guy who can do whatever he sets his mind to. He doesn’t need professionals – especially professionals with no ‘real’ skills who are telling him he can’t fix this on his own. There are ‘ghost hunters’ like him all over the place… they’re just lucky enough not to be dating girls being stalked by demonic beings.
As for the girl… damn, I feel for her. Her boyfriend spends most of the movie painting a target sign on himself, stubbornly refusing to believe that, just maybe, she’s got a better insight into being stalked by a demon (having dealt with it for over 10 years) than he does (having dealt with it for over 10 days.) Both of them end up behaving in perfectly believable ways, as long as you remember that they don’t know that they signed up for a horror movie.
So… there’s the basic story. Girl is haunted by demon, idiot boyfriend tries to play amateur demonologist and solve the problem, things go poorly. Since this is still in theaters, I don’t want to spoil the whole thing, but let’s just say that the last 5-10 minutes of the film are totally sold by the first 90 minutes of it, and you need to sit through the 90 to get the payoff of the 5-10… but it’s worth it. When things pick up, right at the end, there’s not much left… but you will walk out very, very unnerved.
One last little comment about the film. I watched it in a theater at 3:00 on a Thursday afternoon, with about 12 other people scattered throughout it (I lucked out and got an extra-wide seat out of it at that.) It was still very effective for me, and for several of the other people. But the reactions seemed to be split along two different lines. Gender, and age.
Older audiences (or at least older in spirit), and the girls, both seemed to be quite affected by it. The young men, not so much.
Exactly the same split that’s seen in the movie.
Art imitates life, or maybe the other way around?
Oh, and for those of you who might have forgotten, we are still running a contest here! Comment to one of the posts with your favorite Batman movie, and the reason why, and you could win a brand-new copy of Mask of the Phantasm. For more details, scroll down to the end of my Projected Plot post.
Growing up on a Pike
Young adult novels. What do we have to thank them for?
Vampires that sparkle. Am I right, people? Well… not so much.
You see, I grew up in the 90’s, when my middle school had these books on the rack in the library that were a little different from the others. They weren’t Choose Your Owns, they weren’t hardcovers, they weren’t Sweet Valley High or the other pap that got churned out every month.
These were the works of one Christopher Pike. They had titles that didn’t tell you anything (“The Last Vampire,” “Chain Letter,” “The Party,” etc.) and descriptions that make them sound like your basic murder mysteries. So, hey, they had a little bite to them – it’s worth taking a look, right?
And then I went and actually read some of these. Honestly, I kinda have to wonder how the heck these books ended up in a middle school. Why?
If you read these books yourself, you’ll find out. Work through the Final Friends series, or Remember Me, and you’ll run into all the slasher film stereotypes and then some. High schoolers having sex and occasionally getting killed. Safe sex issues. Drug issues and scumbags. A major plot-point in Remember Me hinges around an incestuous relationship, and a minor one in the Final Friends series has to do with one of the characters being a closeted homosexual. The subject matter in these books are like nothing else you’re going to come across in your school’s approved reading list.
Is the writing all that good? Well, it could certainly be worse.
These days, I think people have realized that his subject matter is a bit beyond your typical 6th grader, and moved these off the Young Adult shelves… but I’m not sure. Most of his series have ended or petered out – the man has serious issues with writing sequels, unfortunately, they just don’t work out nearly as well unless he planned the series from the start. But you might want to check him out this Halloween. If nothing else, they’re not what you expected.
Projected Plot
Okay. Everybody who chats with me online regularly has already read this, I’ll admit. Why? Because I’m a noisy little monster when I have ideas trying to wiggle their way out of my skull, that’s why.
The Dark Knight, up until its end, is an incredible film. I personally prefer Mask of the Phantasm, though others have their own opinions (more on that later.) Well, there’s a third Batman Begins film coming out, which seems to be likely to feature the Riddler.
Now, given that another third Batman movie featured the Riddler… well, they can’t do much worse than that one (honestly? I thought Batman and Robin was better than that POS!) But what would I like to see in the third Batman Begins film? What would I consider the ultimate capstone on the trilogy? Here we go.
In Mask of the Phantasm, Bruce’s old girlfriend – who he almost gave up Batman for – comes back hunting the gangsters who hounded her father to death. Eventually, trying to kill the Joker, she meets her (supposed) end in a firey explosion, only to turn up on a cruise ship, leaving Gotham forever.
Well, I’d like to take that plot and filter it through the Batman Begins universe… why? Because it neatly wraps up BB’s little morality play. The first one featured Batman (and his questionable methods) up against people who were clearly beyond the pale (R’as and his cronies). Batman was clearly the hero – Gotham’s prodigal son was fighting crime, kicking ass, taking names, and eventually letting the leader behind all this die in a nasty conflagration. Dark Knight featured him up against a being of pure evil, and forcing himto confront the issue of just what extents he *will* go to in order to protect people… and how he handles failing to protect them, if that will push him over the edge so that he ‘doesn’t save’ another bad guy, the way he did R’as. In case you’ve been under a rock for the last year nd a half, he doesn’t – he only kills once, and that is because there’s no other way to save an innocent boy from dying.
What’s the final act to all this? What else – put the Batman up against somebody who *wants* to die… not because of some twisted game, but out of a sick sense of justice. Put the Batman up against an enemy who *is* everything he could become, if he lets his dark side take over – a sick soul with a death wish, meting out death and destruction, while privately wishing for the same, to put an end to the gut-wrenching pain inside brought on by the path they’ve followed.
Now, of course, the question is… who is, the Phantasm? What person could we put behind that Reaper’s mask, to really drive the message home?
Rachael. Yes, I know, she was blown up in Dark Knight. Work with me here – if Jean Grey, Gwen Stacey, and Bucky can all benefit from a revolving door policy on the afterlife, so can Rachael. Don’t you point out that those are all Marvel characters – if Supes gets a ‘get out of epic, dramatically suitable death free’ card, then Rachael does too.
For our purposes, she isn’t actually killed in the blast – instead, she’s ‘rescued’ by Killer Croc, another Batman villain who fits perfectly into this universe. I’m inclined to make the Joker responsible for this – having him send the Croc there – but obviously certain events make writing the Joker out of this story desirable. At any rate, Croc does with Rachael whatever the screenwriters think they can get away with during the time he has her (and the cops are chasing Batman.) For once, I’m inclined to say they could let the little James Wan inside them get out and run free. This time around, it would actually benefit to some extent from having a few suitably harrowing torture sequences – they feed into the later mystery of the film. They shouldn’t be the key of the film, of course, but it doesn’t hurt to play it up a bit. It also gives the Croc time to explain that he’s helping smuggle some chemicals that are being illegally disposed of or somesuch – the specifics aren’t too important, just covering that there are things down in the sewers that aren’t safe to be in contact with.
Eventually, Rachael gets the chance to escape, albeit at a hefty price. She manages to tie off her wrist, then takes off her hand so she can get free. Croc chases her, but in the course of the chase through the nearly pitch-black sewers, he ends up taking a dive into the Bad Stuff that’s down there. Rachael makes it a bit farther, but through increasing blood loss and shock, she eventually passes out.
When she comes to, she’s been rescued by a group of people living down there. Most big cities actually do have communities like this – homeless people who’ve made their own homes in abandoned sewer lines, maintenance tunnels, and subway lines beneath the city. The group that’s found her is a small enclave led by a veteran who left the surface world and all its problems behind him. There are others with them, some normal people, and one man based loosely off the Toyman from the DC universe (ie, tinkerer and gadgeteer who can put together handy trinkets along similar lines as the Batman’s.)
Having come to, Rachael discovers her entire life has fallen apart. Batman has killed Harvey, so she’s heard, which is devastating to her psychologically. She knows Bruce, has all his life. She knows he wouldn’t have killed Harvey… not unless Harvey had gone wrong somehow. But she knows Harvey, knows he wouldn’t do that… or, at least, that he wouldn’t have if he’d known she was alive. And if Batman *did* kill Harvey without there being a good reason for it… then the only reason for that would be because Bruce had snapped because of what happened to her. Any way you look at it, it’s her fault (to a grief-stricken, somewhat twisted mind). What’s more, it wouldn’t have happened if Batman *had* just gone ahead and ignored the system, killed the Joker when he’d had the chance. Her entire worldview is shattered; she blames herself for the death of Harvey, and she sees a world that’s bleak, dark, and entirely unredeemable… a world where the Bruce who almost shot a man in the middle of a courthouse was right, and she was wrong. A world where Batman isn’t going far enough.
She talks this over with her rescuers (obliquely, not specifics) while she slowly recovers. The vet who leads the group teaches her how to fight, ostensibly so she can protect herself in the Underground – she doesn’t have a life to return to anymore, so she might as well learn how to survive here. The Toyman makes her a prosthetic cap for her arm that she can mount a knife to, so she doesn’t have to carry a separate weapon and fight with her only hand. Gradually, she goes from basic self-defense to being able to *fight*. This doesn’t all have to be covered on-screen at the time; a lot of it can be covered in later flashbacks.
Of course, this movie isn’t all Rachael’s. Christian Bale needs to earn his paycheck too.
In the meantime, in the world up above, Batman is trying to do his work without getting caught by the police. He’s gradually been mopping up other mental ward rejects from Arkham, dealing with organized crime, and generally cleaning things up – Gotham’s looking a lot better, from the perspective of having to deal with organized crime, but there’s still the issue of the *dis*organized crime. It’s fairly good timing, in some ways – Batman isn’t as necessary, allowing Bruce Wayne to let his alter ego rest (more often) while working through social programs to try and address the conditions that create some of the crooks he’s still got to deal with. For some situations though, Batman is still necessary – like when dealing with the hulking monstrosity that’s started rampaging through Gotham in the dead of night, leaving bodies behind him.
At first it’s gang-bangers and homeless bums… but before long it’s hookers mixed in with them, often raped as well as torn limb from limb. The cops are paying attention as much as they can, but they can’t get much done… which puts Batman back out in the open. Trying to evade the police, and the distrustful people of the slums who figure they might be able to take care of two birds with one stone, he sets out to find the killer. Batman traces the killer into the Underground, and follows him there. He eventually finds Killer Croc’s lair, or what’s left of it – there, he’s attacked by Croc, now mutated even further by the chemicals he was dumped into. Batman fights back, of course, but between the darkness and the inhuman strength of his attacker, he’s outclassed. While Croc takes a beating, he eventually gets the better of Batman, nearly breaking his back in the process (suplex maneuver at full Killer Croc strength?) Before he can deliver a killing blow, however, a cloaked figure shows up, attacking from behind. Batman witnesses flashes of the fight, but eventually succumbs to the pain as Phantasm does battle with the Croc. (For the audience’s benefit, Croc escapes – wouldn’t be necessary if Ledger hadn’t died, but….)
When he comes to, he’s back home; somebody called Alfred and let him know that Bruce was badly hurt. The press has been told that Mr. Wayne was injured in a skydiving accident… but it presents the worrisome question of who called Alfred.
Here’s where we can go one of two ways. I’ll go with the one I currently prefer. Rather than the question lasting, when Bruce asks Alfred who it was that called him, Rachael comes in. She’s missing her hand, but after some time in the hospital of her own, she’s got a proper prosthetic rigged, and is looking much, much better than she was before. She moves in with Bruce, her own life having been ravaged by the fact that she was assumed dead, and Bruce needing somebody besides Alfred to help take care of him during his convalescence. During this time, obviously, Batman is AWOL – and the criminal element begins to stick their head out.
As Rachael goes over the Hell that has been her life in bits and pieces (explaining to Bruce how she’s alive, etc.), the same dark figure who helped rescue Bruce before starts showing up above ground now. The Phantasm isn’t a replacement Batman though – the Phantasm is a killing machine, not worried about collateral damage as long as it’s other people who ‘deserved it.’ Innocent bystanders are safe – they have to be, to keep the Phantasm a somewhat sympathetic figure. Bruce begins investigating the Phantasm, who makes his way through the streets with a massive blade on one glove, covered in a shroud of fog that he seems to be able to generate at will. The cops, obviously, are hunting the Phantasm down hardcore – Batman was a black eye, the Phantasm is an obvious homicidal maniac.
Complicating things, Rachael seems to know something about all of this… but she’s reluctant to explain until later. When the time comes, she explains her relationship with the vet who rescued her, and that he was talking about doing exactly this when she left. She thinks that he’s the Phantasm… which certainly seems believable enough. A 50-60 year old Vietnam vet who can fight like a sonofabitch and has a chip on his shoulder is a good candidate, especially with the Toyman’s help. Mask of the Phantasm was a little enough known piece that the obvious suspect isn’t so obvious. Rachael is, after all, a 30-something lawyer missing a hand and rather slightly built. Add to that the fact that she’s living with Bruce – how could she possibly be the Phantasm, given all of that?
Of course, given that fact that Bruce isn’t exactly around all the time either, it becomes plausible, but that’s for the audience to click with later.
The cat and mouse game between the Phantasm and Batman continues, with Batman ocasionally having to save crooks from the Phantasm. Little hints are dropped here and there that the Phantasm knows about Batman – he won’t kill him, for example, despite his being a murderer according to the press. He gives him openings he doesn’t have to. All this time, the cops are searching for them both (admittedly, against Gordon’s wishes, but he has to thanks to the end of Dark Knight).
If Ledger were alive, I’d want to use the chance to start turning the Joker into a sort of supervillain Hannibal Lecter; Batman reluctantly coming to him in his cell to find out what he might know about the Phantasm (an interview through the window between Batman and the Joker has an incredible amount of cinematic potential.) Without Ledger, that’s not going to work (recurring theme, I know, I know.) However, if I ever do this as a fanfic, it’s something to bear in mind as an option.
In the end, it comes down to a final confrontation between the Batman, and the Phantasm, trying to save the life of a criminal who’s pushing even Batman’s limits. This is where Batman has to make the decision – does he go down the Phantasm’s ultimately destructive (yet effective) path, or does he hold true to his (barely, at times) heroic code? My preference, given conditions? Killer Croc (AKA Bane) again. He gets away from the Phantasm in their first confrontation, and eventually comes back, more ripped and mutated than ever, possibly in the service of whoever provided the mutagens that transformed him in the first place. There’s a three-way battle between Bane, Phantasm, and Batman… and, in the end, the Batman discovers that Rachael is the Phantasm. And worse, that all she wants at this point is for him to kill her and end her suffering.
In the end, the movie finishes with the same explosive finale as Mask of the Phantasm, the Batman barely escaping the conflagration that seems to destroy his beloved… except for a little hint we get at the end, that maybe the Phantasm lives on, sane or otherwise….
So, there you have it. My vision of Mask of the Phantasm adapted to the Batman Begins universe, and what I’d *love* to see as BB3. Not gonna happen, I’m quite sure, but I’d be thrilled if something even remotely like this came out. It would tie in one of the more obscure (yet excellent) visions of Batman with the one that’s currently the most popular, and also have elements of one of the slightly more obscure (yet excellent) storylines from the comics (Knightfall is echoed in Batman’s injuries and his being ‘replaced’ by a psychotic, homicidal vigilante).
Now… you’ve read through all of that, and I feel obligated to reward you for it. Fortunately, I can do so – I found my copy of Mask of the Phantasm!
So here’s the contest. I’ve told everybody (at length) what my favorite Batman movie is. I want to hear what yours is. One of the old Batman serials? The camp-fest that was the movie spawned by the 60’s series? One of Burton’s two masterworks? Christopher Nolan’s original? The Dark Knight is one I expect to hear a lot, I’ll admit.
Are you one of those sad, sick souls who actually thought that Joel Schumacher’s vision of the Bat is the ideal one?
Or maybe you prefer the animated versions. Return of the Joker? The anime version that came out? Sub Zero? Mystery of the Batwoman?
Well, by year end, leave a comment explaining your favorite Batman movie. What is it, and why? You don’t need the full-on synopses that I’ve been doing, though I won’t hold it against you if you toss a few spoilers in. The only limitation I’m going to put on you is that I want to see a moving version of it – I’d be interested in knowing your favorite comic arc, but it won’t qualify for the contest.
Entries must be received by 12/31/2009. A winner will be chosen by 1/31/2010, on the following grounds:
- Explanation of why you like your favorite film. Just saying “because I do” won’t get you anything (unless NOBODY else enters). I’d like to see the reason why – what are the themes, what are the aspects of Batman that you like. Long-winded won’t get you bonus points, but well explained will.
- Sincerity. This one’s hard to quantify, but if you just trot out “The Dark Knight, because it’s the best Batman film out there, everybody except you knows that,” or “Mask of the Phantasm, for all the reasons you explained,” you’re not likely to win it.
- Originality. This is kind of in there already, but I’d like to see a reason that makes me look at it in a way I haven’t before.
So, if you’re declared the winner, you will receive one (1) copy of Mask of the Phantasm, never before viewed, but not shrinkwrapped. If I actually get enough really good entries to justify multiple prizes, I might edit the prize packages (they’d be getting better, not worse, trust me). If you want to list your entry but don’t actually want the DVD, let me know so I don’t end up mailing it out to you before I find out you’re not interested.
So, have at it! You’ve got just a little bit over three months – get cracking, people!
Mask of the Phantasm
Happy coincidences abound in this world – as I write this post, I am actually watching the film on Boomerang!
I now forgive them – a little bit – for dropping Thundarr, SWAT Kats, and Centurions from their afternoon lineup. I’m sure I’ll hate them again the next time I come home and the only thing on is Snorks.
Now, a little buildup in the 3 minutes leading up to the film. Mask of the Phantasm was the first of a small handful of feature-length productions done for Batman: The Animated Series (TAS), the brilliant series that followed the 1989 revival of the franchise with Tim Burton’s film. Several years down the line, Mask of the Phantasm came out. It was serious, it was mature, it was romantic, and it was tragic… in short, it was brilliant.
It was a total flop.
Why, I really don’t know… I tend to blame, as my brother does, the “ghettofication” of cartoons; the idea that animated shows aren’t suitable for adults to watch, and the PG-13 rating on this one did *not* mark it out for the kiddie audience. But I love it all the same. Now, as I watch it for probably the thousandth time, I’m going to go on about why.
Most of what makes Mask of the Phantasm work is the same thing that made TAS work in general. Beautiful art, sweeping gothic designs, and that most rarified quality in any work of mass-market fiction… maturity. It takes place in a corrupt city placed somewhere between the 20’s and the 90’s, a world trapped simultaneously in the eras of the Shadow, Doc Savage, Sam Spade, and The Punisher. That the film was even more mature than the series is what earned it that PG-13 rating… and what makes me put it at the pinnacle of Batman movies.
Spoilers shall follow.
The film opens on Chucky Sol and a bunch of other gangsters examining a shipment of counterfeits, when Batman breaks in. A firefight ensues, and Chucky escapes into the parking garage… only to be confronted by an ominous figure who announces that his ‘angel of death awaits.’ Mistaking this figure for the Batman, he opens fire, before fleeing to his car and attempting to run the man down… only to miss, running his car out the side of the parking garage.
We next meet one of Gotham’s councilmen, an anti-Batman crusader who spends his time railing against the Batman… and trying to make some moves on one Miss Andrea Beaumont, an old flame of Bruce’s.
The heart of this film, really, is the relationship between Bruce and Andrea. What we begin to discover throughout the film is that Andrea was the girl who almost made Batman never happen. Bruce and Andrea meet in the cemetery, of all places – Bruce is visiting his parents’ grave, during the months leading up to his becoming Batman. Andrea is having a conversation with her deceased mother, which turns around to be about Bruce. They begin a courtship that gradually becomes more and more serious, and is fleshed out enough that it actually feels like a real courtship. This isn’t your typical whirlwind romance – this is Bruce Wayne, before he surrenders his life to the cape and cowl, finding out that there’s more to life than pain and revenge. Granted, it moves quickly, but there’s enough there that it feels like an honest relationship more than your typical ‘love at first sight’ sequence, where the hero throws his life away for somebody he’s known all of five minutes.
Perhaps oddly, the scenes are interspersed with some of his early crimefighting capers… typically unsuccessful ones. At the same time that the Batman is being born, Bruce is beginning to waver in his conviction to the promise he made his parents.
But, as we all know, this couldn’t last. Andrea flees the country with her father, a lawyer who seems to have some shady business dealings with a few local gangsters, the very night she agrees to marry Bruce… and the next day, when Alfred tells him the bad news just after he’s come up from what will become the Batcave, it’s like fate closing the door. The next scene is Bruce donning the cowl for the first time… and Batman being born.
Now, back in the modern day, we have the “Angel of Death” continuing to hunt down mobster associates of Chucky Sol. This figure, the Phantasm, wears a large blade on one hand, and seems to generate fog everywhere he goes. Unlike Batman, he doesn’t just turn his victims over to the police when they commit a crime – he hunts them down anywhere he can find them, and he kills them, terrorizing them first. With two deaths down, one of the remaining mobsters (Sal Valestra, a liver-spotted emphysemic) goes to speak to the last of his old cronies, seeking protection….
Unfortunately, that last one happens to be the Joker.
Mask of the Phantasm’s plot works between two different extremes; the romance of the past, and the mystery of the present. The ties between the two eras are constantly harkened to, as they shift between timeframes in ways that play nicely with the similarities between them. For example, Bruce staring up at the looming portrait of his parents shifts back to his visiting their grave. His rain-soaked embrace with Andrea in the past, just after a tearful confession to his dead parents that he doesn’t have the heart to fight the way he’d promised anymore, moves to his perching alone in darkness, the iconic image of the future that came of his decision that he *would* fight. Watching Andrea go out to dinner with the Councilman, where she mentions the future, brings back their memories of going on a date to the “World of the Future” exhibit at the Gotham World’s Fair… a relic of a past they both long for, that symbolizes a future they can’t have, and that serves as the backdrop for the final battle between the Phantasm, Batman, and the final target of the Phantasm’s rampage… the Joker himself.
This is also when we discover that the Phantasm, who Bruce has persuaded himself is Andrea’s father come back for revenge and to kill the men who’ve hounded him around the world, is really Andrea. One final flashback tells us that the Joker himself was the one who hunted down her father (with the Councilman’s help), and killed him, before he was the Joker. But Andrea – and, eventually, Bruce – both recognize him yet. Eventually, everything comes to a head. The Phantasm confronts the Joker, Batman hunts her down to try and save her… and we have an epic battle between three titans, each reflecting the spectrum of Batman’s existence.
The Phantasm, aptly referred to by the Joker as “the Ghost of Christmas Future,” who represents what Batman could so easily become. The Joker, who represents sheer madness and lunacy, a Nero who laughs as his world burns around him. And Batman, a good man who walks the fine line between sanity and madness, good and evil… and who is eventually doomed to be unable to save that happy past he longed for from the dark future he lives in.
As you might imagine, Andrea supposedly dies in the final battle, along with the Joker, disappearing into the ruins of the World of the Future as it explodes, hurling Batman clear. Batman retreats to mop up what’s left of his life… only to find that somebody’s been in the Batcave, and secreted Andrea’s pendant there. Our closing shot is of Andrea, standing alone on the deck of a cruise ship, leaving Gotham and her past behind, forever.
Now, spoiler-ridden synopsis completed, let’s take a look at the main theme I like about this film.
Mask of the Phantasm is, ultimately, Batman’s version of the film noir. The major players in this drama already know the hand that fate has dealt them. The past, that place of hopes and dreams and happiness, lies in ruins. The future that once looked so bright is twisted and rusted to nothingness, the domain of madmen like the Joker. When Batman encounters Andrea and the Joker in the World of the Future, we already know what’s going to happen. There’s no other way for it to end – the future has consumed Bruce’s past, and Andrea’s. As much as you might look back longingly, you’ve got no choice but to keep going forward, sailing off into the night. The more I’ve watched this movie over the years, the more I enjoy it, and the more I pick up deeper filmic elements than you’d normally see anybody dare to put into a kid’s movie.
All of this aside though… does it justify calling this the greatest Batman film of all time? Well, I think so… but I’ll admit, I’m a little biased. So here’s what I’m gonna do.
I have a copy of this that I bought on DVD. I have *another* copy that came in a boxed set with Return of the Joker and Sub Zero, but I can’t find it just now. However, when I *do* find it… I plan on holding a little contest. The winner takes home a brand-new, unwatched copy of Mask of the Phantasm of their very own. The rules?
Honestly, I don’t know yet. But keep tuning in once in a while to find out – as soon as I know them, I’ll post them here for everybody to see. 
So, what’s in line for next week? Well, hopefully, contest guidelines.
But beyond that, and whether or not I can find my prize package, I plan on giving you all a look into my twisted little brain, as we see what I would like to see (and know I won’t) for the third movie in the Batman Begins series.
Here’s a hint. It’s got a thing or two to do with our current offering….
