Analysis: "Chasing Ghosts" and the Pursuit of Two Rabbits and Capturing None

I can't believe that teachers are using video games as teaching aids in their lessons; I mean, when I was a kid I would rush home to play video games - I don't want to play video games in school. That's work. Don't ruin my hobby my associating it with something worthwhile.

Still, the examples are out there. The University of Minnesota used the role playing game "Neverwinter Nights" (2003) as a aid to teach interviewing skills to journalism students. Minnesota middle school teacher Brock Dubbels taught a lesson that compared the classical works of Homer to Sega mascot Sonic the Hedgehog. In fact, Constance Steinkuehler, professor of Education Communications and World of Warcraft undead priest, wrote a paper called "Scientific Habits of Mind in Virtual Worlds" in which she argued video gamers were applying the scientific method by postulating theories on how best to tackle bosses, gathering empirical data by first-hand experimentation and afterwards discussing the results with their lab partners/fellow paladins and clerics. Video games are a hobby that can be exploited for their logic and reasoning skills as well as a aide for teaching.

Back in my day, the Golden Age in which video games was still only considered mental cotton candy that would rot a 2D perspective of your brain, it would never for a moment be considered plausible that we could play video games for learning. We had "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?" (1985) and "Oregon Trail" (1982); but all I learned from those games is that if you never go anywhere you'll never get lost, and that it isn't excessive to shoot cattle for a surplus of 3000 lbs. It prepared us - not well - for a life of staring blankly at video monitors.

Using computers was a way for us to familiarize ourselves with technology and the oncoming age of information. We all kind of knew that, probably because we'd rather play Donkey Kong than kickball. However, what I couldn't believe is that we would watch movies in class. Movies! The teacher would wheel in that giant trolley with the TV on top and the VCR in the middle, and all the students would know that we can slack off for the next hour without penalty. This was for me the equivalent of a teacher bringing in WiiFit to class because it's raining outside and we don't get to use the parachute (maybe I'll explain that later...).

I remember studying in high school the Scottish play by Shakespeare - you know, the one whose name you can't mention anymore, like Sarah Paylin or Leroy Jenkins. I remember thinking that it was crazy since we weren't reading books anymore but instead watching a movie, and as anyone can tell you: watching a movie isn't reading - it's fun.

I don't remember many details of the version we watched, but it was the one where the monologue was a creepy inner dialogue that wasn't actually spoken; instead, the character would putz around as he was thinking, walking from one dim room to the next. The other thing that I remember is that this movie version was much more kick ass than they book. In the movie, after all the lines are spoken and the play is over there is actually still more - the rocking big fight at the end. Mr Vaulting-Ambition is defeated and exposed, but he still has not received his comeuppance. Surrounded by enemy troops and left vulnerably alone, Mr Bad Luck Name challenges any one man to try and defeat him. Being a King, Mr Better Left Unsaid is fiercesome and too terrible for any of the common foot soldiers that surround him.

Of course, as all you Scottish play fans know, MacDuff has a can of whoopass on him and he brought he can opener with him. After studying the play for weeks, it was a real eye-opener to witness a kick-ass kitchen sink blow-out of a fight. And besides being so awesome, it was particularly memorable since the last few shots of the movie was a POV from his decapitated head as the victorious army carried it around mounted on a pike.

Video games may teach something to children; it may even be something worthwhile. However it wasn't a video game that taught me this: "Kings die hard." There are many themes and ideas percolating within the Scottish play, but that was the one thing that I was left with after watching that movie during school.

Kings die hard. That's why it's ironic that this central theme of the "Chasing Ghosts: Beyond the Arcade" (2007) isn't one I had learned from video games and their many bosses at the end of levels, although this theme is emphasized with scorn and yet pathos with all the characters depicted in this documentary by Lincoln Ruchti.

After watching the documentary "The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters" (2007), the similarities between these two movies about competitive classic video gaming don't outweigh the many differences. Chasing Ghosts is more about video games than King of Kong, even showing most of a Pac-Man level using a pattern called "tunnel terror"; however, like King of Kong, Chasing Ghosts is not about video games themselves as much as it is about the people who play them.

Also, worth comparing is the fact that both movies are incredibly manipluative, with Chasing Ghosts being the more obvious of culprits. Chasing Ghosts chronicles the high rise to prominence of arcade video game high score champions of the early 80's as well as the spectular crash of the arcade industry that has left these people seemingly picking up the pieces ever since, some of them still to this day. Chasing Ghosts does a manic switch from emphasizing the skill and importance of these people as well as the fame they endured as "kings" of their domain to outright condescension of these people who are maligned as outcasts and extremists who require video games as an escape from the society to which they can't adapt. It's the old media trick done in a 90 minutes movie: you tear down the very same subjects you yourself built up.

In Chasing Ghosts, this manipluation happens again and again. Director shows some of these people in a terribly poor light, but reporting the sad truth isn't as effective as manipluating these events for maximum effect. Jeanifer, the girlfriend to Leo Daniels who is suggested to be a pimp and been extremely promiscuous, says despondently, "Yeah, he's met alot of people... but that's okay." Mark Robichek is depicted as being afflicted with compulsive-obsessive behavior, and both folds a t-shirt on camera as well as relaxes in a massage chair to "Wild Thing" by Tone Loc to comedic effect. Walter Day's assertation that he will embark on a musical career after retiring from scorekeeping is followed by a pastiche of his songs, which show them to be nonesensical and has him making mistake after mistake. Todd Rodgers is shown to be a shut-in who amasses a overly large collection of spiders who has such a long life story of tragedy and loss it is edited down to a verbal collage for tragicomic effect. We are teased with Robert Mruczek's status as an art collector until we find out he collects pin-up art of women in explicit poses, which alongside
the fact that he still lives with his parents and doesn't have any other interests besides playing video games colors him as being a hopeless loser. Steve Sanders' admission he lied about his Donkey Kong high score is miraculously accompanied by a shot of Sanders asking for forgiveness during a church service. It goes on.

I always go overboard with the examples, but I admit it's fun to be excessive when it proves your point. And anyways, it's the internet.

Chasing Ghosts is much more manipluative than King of Kong, but as I said this is to be expected as documentaries and media in general all have a bias. This isn't the truth, this is somebody's version of the truth. You can't just stick up the truth on the screen; it can't possibly work that way.

So what is the truth of Chasing Ghosts? If you were to infer from the title, the idea is that these are people who are chasing the glory of a by-gone era that won't return, pursuing nothing but the etereal remains of relevance important only to themselves and not the society that they can't fit in with. This could very well be the message, since the film casts such a disparaging light upon them. However, the title Chasing Ghosts can also mean the search for acceptance that was never afforded this culture and its heroes, even though they got a fleeting moment of prestige and fame back when it started. The film has no more tragic hero than Walter Day, who is suggested to have wasted a life babysitting other people's children and had not capitalized on fame like other video game champions.

That's how the film ends, on a sad tragic note with Walter Day mailing his retired referee jersey to the Smithsonian Museum's Video game history department, though no such department exists. A tragic and sad ending that happened after affording laughs at their expense, such as suggesting with a montage of girls from the 80's that aren't flattering to look at that their priviledge of "video game groupies" is a hollow sham, or suggesting the lengths and measures required to be a video game champion isn't worth it to the normal human being: some high scores require 20 to 40 hours to complete or even more, not to mention the social disadvantages to playing video games by yourself constantly.

So at the end of the movie, that's how I feel: manipluated and exploited for my sympathy. Director Ruchti plays both sides of the morality fence to equally exploit his subjects to be both hero and loser at the same time. And that's my issue with this movie: what are you trying to say? Are they kings? Or are they losers? They can't be both, and that's what this movie winds up doing since it maniacally veers to both ends of the spectrum.

This isn't a case of presenting two sides to an issue and letting the audience judge for themselves, something excellent documentaries can do with controversial issues that don't beg for simple explanations. Chasing Ghosts is an exercise in manipluation that foregoes objection, so when the two extemes of comedy and pathos are mined again and again Chasing Ghosts becomes a movie that says everything and nothing at the same time.

That's why King of Kong is a much better movie. It says something. It does play hard and fast with the facts, but it's about something. And being about something, the movie has something to say - something important, and in this case, something affecting and involving. Chasing Ghosts might have you believe its a movie about tragic heros who have fallen on hard times, but on watching the movie you realize that much of the victimizing comes from the machinations of the movie itself.

It's a closed fist; it's a welcoming open palm. And as a zen koan, it's both at the same time attached to somebody who can't make up their mind. As much as I've picked on Billy Mitchell in past writings, classic competitive gaming needs a image like his to transcend all this compulsiveness and loser-ism. And if he's going to do it with long hair, an American tie, and a thumbs up well I guess it better than the rest.

Me? I'm ambivalent towards a movie that describes someone who uses an electric turkey carver as "genius", or Jerry Garcia's "Pac-Man Fever" as the "best song ever". However, the movie had me when they were all discussing each others skills as though they are special ops mercs or ninjas belonging to a secret sect. It's as though they should shout aloud their special move when performing it like movie kung-fu practicioners do.

But why blame me for my ambivalence? I just watched ambivalence as though a two-sided coin and Charlie Brown had a love child in international waters. So, I'm still waiting for that great, elusive video game movie. Well, other than King of Kong.


Rated: Two out of 3 stars. 3D renderings of classic 2D games may make it more accessible to non-gamers, but mostly preaches to the choir. Mitchell shown giving the thumbs up again. May have the contrarily desired effect of encouraging the gamer audience to seek a world record high score - maybe.

Rebuttal: "The King of Kong" and the Loss of Innocence in the Age of Compulsory Media Street Smarts

I am a cultured man; I like to take part in the finer things in life. I like good books, fine wine, exquisite cuisine and fit clothes that both allow me to express myself and at the same time don't speak for me. I like to do all these things whenever I'm not busy shooting zombies in the head with a shotgun.

That's why last night you would have found me at a jazz bar listening to a Brazillian band from Denmark, Mais Uma, whilst eating a cheese platter made of no less than three cheeses (brie, blue and a interesting orange one) and sipping red wine under the stars on a mild Shanghai night. My girlfriend as my wonderful company, it was a magnificent night of culture and discourse.

That's right. You know that James Bond guy? I live the same life as him.

Of course, he doesn't have a neighbor that starts hammering at 6:45 AM, nor does he likely find the trash of a ripped open envelope with discarded fish parts in it on his window (and I live on the tenth floor - are you suspecting the same neighnors like me?) To compare, James Bond runs around and saves the world - well, at least the world as the Brits no it. Myself, I can't really compare with a guy like that, and let's not forget he's fictional.

All the same, James Bond wouldn't be living it up with such culture and great company while having a serious discussion about video games. That's right: go back to you Pussy Galore, you misogynist.

Joanne and I enjoyed our wine and cheese while debating the integrity of "The King of Kong", the movie I had just analyzed yesterday. We had seen the film the night before (just as I said - I live every day like a king!) and now had gotten a chance to discuss it together.

Joanne had be intrigued by the film, and had searched for further information on the film the next day. On Wikipedia, IMDB and on other sources, she found that certain facts had been omitted or altered to present a narrative and form a particular bias. Several of the key participants in the movie have complained that the movie does not present the actual truth.

Without cutting and pasting from the end-of-all-information-Wikipedia and giving a loose paraphrasing of the key facts, they claim that: Wiebe and Mitchell are on better terms than the movie suggests; that Mitchell had indeed met Wiebe several times and had not snubbed him as suggested by Mitchell continuing to drive past the restaurant that Wiebe was dining in; that they are not rivals since a third party, Tim Sczerby, had beaten Mitchell's 1982 score in 2000; that though Wiebe's taped game of a million-plus was rejected, the high score reverted to one Wiebe had made earlier; and that the million-plus score of Mitchell submitted by tape was actually eventually rescinded.

I know - the glorification of facts (gleaned from Wikipedia, no less) makes for pedantic exposition and wordy writing. People who read for fun and English teachers everywhere won't be pleased. However, since this is an argument, we have to do this right.

Joanne makes a good point: "The King of Kong" is a documentary, but this is a documentary that is anything but objective. Rather, it is a slick piece of filmmaking that tells a good story at the expense of its participants. The bias in the movie goes out of its way to slander Mitchell as a villian, and taints his public image. A documentary deals with real people with lives, and a film like this can go to have dire ramifications for its participants.

As a documentarian filmmaker, Joanne contends, you are dealing with news since you are telling stories about reality; this makes you a journalist. And even though there is no Hippocratic Oath-equivalent for journalists as there is for doctors, there is still expected a high standard for the integrity of truth, both by the profession itself and the public that consumes this news. An infamous instance of professional journalistic perjury is the 1980 news story "Jimmy's World", in which Janet Cooke faked a news story about an eight year-old heroin addict. It is a well-written, if fake, story that would win Cooke a Pulitzer Prize. Even after admitting her guilt and returning the prize, Cooke was vilified for her forgery of the truth and did not work in journalism ever again.

Joanne contends that from watching the movie we are led to form a specific negative opinion of Billy Mitchell. While many of the audience of the film have and will never meet Mitchell, we are given proof of his capacity for evil and therefore think poorly of this man. If a documentary is made about a true event and involves real people, then it is owed to these real people to depict the truth as a whole. Report the facts truthfully, and let the audience judge for themselves. Be a journalist, be objective, and reveal the truth.

Strong argument. Joanne has a point here. Also, I'd like to point out, as she points out, that Mitchell being a douchebag is besides the point. Perhaps he really is; but since many of us won't meet him in real life and get to enjoy a photo op with him, his American tie and his thumb, we shouldn't judge him from a movie. After all, many of us have preconceived ideas and opinions of celebrities (like gaming superstar Mitchell) when we don't even know them. If a movie star leaves his wife for a much younger woman, we are all shocked and dismayed at such callous behavior; but, we don't know the truth. We don't know these people, so it is unfair to judge them.

At this point, I'd like to say that while she emphatically defended her point with passion and raw gusto, at times her points reduced me, a veritable think-tank of video game opinion, to contemplative silence. However, since we were drinking wine and eating cheese under the stars while listening to bossa nova music, I wasn't at a loss at being quiet and thinking while looking cool. You know, I prefer draft beer, but put a glass of wine in my hand and all of a sudden I'm tossing out nonsequiturs and quips like I'm in a throw down with Dorothy Parker. "And then the cat said, 'Me-ower corrupts, and absolute me-ower corrupts absolutely.'

Terrible, I know. Not New Yorker material. I didn't actually come up with anything last night, well, anything useful, but then I was drinking wine.

I'll come back with this: I knew about the discrepancies with the truth when I wrote the analysis. My personal contention is that Mitchell is a douchebag, but that wasn't my argument, and neither do I believe that it is the argument of the movie. As I already wrote, I think the movie is about the fact that in order for Wiebe to become Donkey Kong champion, he has to break the cult of personality of Mitchell and suffer Mitchell scheming and machinations. Wiebe can't just play video games well to win; instead, his worth as a "good" man is tested against the worth of Mitchell, a man who values his fame, is narcissistic and enjoys his capacity to dominant and influence others for his own gain; this makes him a "bad" man.

Mitchell probably isn't a "bad" man in terms of your usual community standards. Its clear that he supports many charities as he does help the culture of competitive classic gaming (he is donating the Donkey Kong game cabinet with which he set his high score in 1982 to the potential Video Game Hall of Fame in Ottumwa, Iowa). An avowed family man, he does not put his family before video games, as Wiebe is unfortunately shown doing in the movie. In fact, Mitchell and his family aren't featured in the movie, leaving Wiebe to be seen as the only stable and normal participant. If he met me, he'd probably give me a thumbs up.

However, just because certain things were fudged in the movie doesn't mean we can't learn certain things. I found it impossible that the documentarians had a camera with Mitchell the exact time Wiebe was at Funspot setting his record. If you pay attention, you'll see that Brian Kuh didn't go off and had a conversation with Mitchell on the phone - it appears that the audio and video aren't in sync. Also, the end where Wiebe breaks the record is only seen by the camera observing the screen, not on Wiebe and his son. The shot of his son hugging his father at the point of vindication is probably taken from another time and in another context. It happened, but it just didn't happen like it did in real life.

The difference? Movie magic.

With editing and the re-arranging of certain events, you can do anything. Mitchell contends that he said hi to Wiebe at the film's climatic moment that purports the first meeting of the two in which Mitchell apparently snubs Wiebe - an insult the whole high school will be buzzing about for weeks until the next snubbing. It's easy enough to edit it where Mitchell's "hello" winds up on the cutting floor next to the "truth".

But you know what, Joanne? It doesn't matter. (And, imagine me waving a glass of wine in my hand as I expound my argument)

See, this is a movie. Even though the audience may learn things from this movie about real people, it's a tight and well-told story from an equally well-made movie. As a work of art, it has an argument - or thesis or main idea what have you. This main theme is sound, even under scrutiny (go on, go back and re-read all my superfluous diction). The liberties make for better storytelling, making things more exciting and dramatic.

It's a documentary, but we shoudn't take a documentary as being a mirror of truth. These are movies made by people who have an opinion, and no matter how objective the person purports to be this bias will still come through. We are all media literate in this age of information where every body wants your vote, your dollar, your faith. Every piece of information has a spin on it depending on where it's from. I'm sure by now that every person knows to distrust what they read on the internet without first discovering the source of the information, even though many people take Wikipedia as fact (citation needed).

In fact, I'm sure you can take the footage shot of "King of Kong", give it to two different directors and come out with two different perspectives. What makes "King of Kong" and this perspective relevant and important is that the filmmaker is trying to say something specific, have a particular argument. And he did it well. Very well.

Let's bring up Michael Moore. This guys makes great movies; the thing though, is that they are his version of the truth. It isn't the actual truth, and I can honestly say that because you have to seek the truth yourself. Moore's mastery is such that he makes an incredible argument that, during watching, simply go along with it. Another documentarian with a humongous bias is Nick Broomfield. While we may all be completely certain that Aileen Wuornos was sent to death legally insane in "Aileen: Life and Death of a Serial Killer", contrary to Florida law, we should remember - we're not medical professionals, but instead led along a well-made argument to believe that which Nick Broomfield believes.

I love the William S. Burroughs quote at the beginning of the movie: "This is a war universe. War all the time. There may be other universes, but ours seems to be based on war and games." It fits this argument, because a war is being constantly waged: the battlefield is your mind, and the two sides are you and everybody else that wants you to believe what they believe.

Seth Gordon, the director, has an opinion, and made a great argument to go along with it. Along the way, there are some artistic licences taken to enhance his argument but we should not expect anything less.

Let's look at two other movies, both fictional. "Fargo" (1996) is a movie that has an opening card that states it is based on a true story; what follows in an incredible story that plays to our notion that yes, these crazy things could have happened and heighten the drama we witness. Well, it wasn't based on a true story at all; of all the arguments to prove this, the end credits state just like any other fictional movie that it "wasn't based on a true story and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental". This is a great literary device to tell a story well that drive home the film's message that some people should quit while they're ahead(Showalter and Grimsrud), while some people just don't know how to quit (Jerry Lundegaarde).

Let's look at "Saving Private Ryan" (1998). It is stated again and again for emphasis that Speilberg wanted to present the story as faithfully as possible; actors would go and interview war veterans to get their side of the story. Said veterans all stated upon watching the movie that it was indeed very faithful. However, it's a work of fiction, and as such it has a thesis - a main theme or message - and as such a bias. Let's remind ourselves that, though it was based on true accounts, I'm sure, what we're watching didn't actually happen as it did in real life - it's movie magic. Do soldiers look like movie stars? Are all soldiers as idealistic as Tom Hanks' character? Are we aware that we are watching a image projected onto a 1:1.618 white backdrop, manipluated and edited and scored with music, all with the intention of manipluating our thoughts?

I don't want to make war veterans be all sinister and that. Certainly, "Saving Private Ryan" contains the single best affecting act of violence committed to film, that of the German soldier plunging his knife into the Jewish-American soldier's heart OH-SO-SLOWLY. Yup, good film, important message, awesome battle scenes that will have you ducking if you have Dolby 5.1 sound - is that outdated by now?

Joanne, we should expect bias in all forms of media; we should take pains to figure out the meaning and subtexts of things, lest we be confused with tangential information that gets lost in the spin and tide of persuasion. Also, I want to finish the rest of that cheese platter. James Bond would approve.

Analysis: "The King of Kong" and the Self-Feeding Monster of Egotism

"The King of Kong" (2007) is a Seth Gordon documentary about the culture of competitive classic video games. The story revolves around two men, Steve Wiebe and Billy Mitchell, the rivalry between them and the struggle to be the world record holder of the highest achieved score on Nintendo's arcade video game "Donkey Kong" (1981).

This movie is not about video games. This is not a video game movie. A viewer can watch this movie and walk away never learning how to play Donkey Kong. There are no long, extended scenes of an entire level completed, nor any in-depth tutorials explaining how the controls work nor the proper path through the notorious elevator level.

It's a good thing that this movie is not about video games because then it wouldn't be interesting and as a result no one would watch it. Instead, this is a movie that uses video games as a backdrop to tell an engrossing story that appeals to everyone. "King of Kong" uses video games as a microcosm to relate to people on a deeper level to which everyone can connect. To call "King of Kong" a "video game movie" is like calling Ang Lee's "Brokeback Mountain" (2005) a "gay cowboy movie". Instead, "Brokeback Mountain" is a story of love and denial; it tells a story of never being able to achieve/obtain that one thing you always needed your entire life - homosexuality and sheep herding were just literal devices for the story to paint upon.

"King of Kong" is a movie that appeals to everyone. It tells an affecting story of two very different individuals that involve us and invokes large themes and issues; in fact, the best way to put it is that the story of "King of Kong" is more interesting than just about any video game; well, at least any of the video games seen or played in the movie.

I'll tell you what it's about, sure, but I won't deny it any longer that I loved this movie especially from my perspective as a hardcore gamer. I found it so funny and so emotionally affecting that I had to get up and walk around the room to shake off the egregious feeling that these people were portraying the story of my life. What made it really scary is how scary everybody appears in this movie. We see scene after scene appears of people emphatically explaining passionate philosophies and historically significant world events; we are then reminded that this zealous intensity concerns video games, and then wonder how a game can transcend its simple roots as a pastime for recreation and enjoyment to mean a clear case of life or death.

The audience listens to their obsession, and we note that some of these people don't blink when they talk. It scares me, so I listen harder. If nothing else, this movie has taught me to blink more and to take breaths inbetween sentences when I'm talking about video games; also, remind me if my mouth is open when I'm paying especially close attention to something/one.

"King of Kong" is a movie about how different people deal with obsession, and the role it plays in their lives. Competitive classic gaming is an illusion of importance, and in the case of Steve Wiebe and Billy Mitchell this illusion has separate significances to each individual. To us "laymen" of competitive classic gaming the movie offers us a glimpse to witness the cost of what it takes to be "great".

To Steve Wiebe, the film's underdog and hero, achieving the world record high score for Donkey Kong underscores the humility of this soft spoken family man. Portrayed as a wayward talent who possesses skill and ability but has never found a proper outlet in which to channel them, Wiebe is a likable guy and so we sympathize with him since all he wants from being a Donkey Kong champion is recognition as well as a confirmation of his rarely-recognized talents. However, the film shows us his obsession with Donkey Kong imparts a toll on his long-suffering family. Having both he and the Donkey Kong machine banished to the garage (his wife puts up with alot, I agree, but garages are where cars and teenage angst in the form of poor punk bands are parked), we see him neglect his duties as a dutiful father: in his first world record-setting videotape, we hear the anguished cries of his son calling for his dad who is too busy smashing barrels with a hammer with a joystick.

And while his son should learn how to wipe his own bottom, at which we laughed/cried, Wiebe's daughter Jillian has some of the best lines in the movie; when told having a high score in the Guiness World Record book was a big deal, she told her father, "Some people sort of ruin their lives to be in there." If that scathing indictment of her father wasn't enough, she earlier had stated pointedly from a quote on a Billy Mitchell hot sauce bottle: "Work is for people who don't know how to play video games."

It's difficult to watch a man have priorities over his family, but we do see a man dedicated to his dream who doen't do the irresponsible act of putting his dreams on his children's shoulders. Also, in this current social climate of mass mediocrity and focus on celebrity, it can be important for an everyman like Wiebe to be best in the world at one thing. A simple man, a simple plan.

Unfortunately, this plan is not of the hatching of Billy Mitchell, a competitive classic video gaming champion who was on top of the scene back when it wasn't "classic" gaming but state of the art and hip. A known celebrity even amongst competitive classic video gaming champions, Mitchell enjoys fame and has used it as a means to achieve his goals and as a end goal to be the well-known name he is. Holder of the Donkey Kong world record high score since the eighties (there's some other guy but he's not in the movies), Mitchell is shown to be a shadowy Machiavellian character who attempts to thwart the efforts of upstart Wiebe to break his record.

Mitchell is shown accomplishing his nefarious deeds by the power of his cult of personality; Mitchell is a charismatic and egotistical personality who draws others to him to support his own fame and narcissism. The obsession that has made him successful now drives him to scheme against Wiebe using all his influence.

The examples are many: Mitchell prompts Brian Kuh and Perry Rodgers to gain access to Wiebe's garage as "unwelcome guests" to dismantle his machine for photography of his circuit board; Mitchell, being on the board of evalutors, used his vote and influence to use these photographs to discredit Wiebe's home-taped million point score; receiving live updates via telephone during Wiebe's attempt at Funcom to break the record, Mitchell has his "disciple" (quoted from the movie) Brian Kuh attempt to distract and "psyche out" Wiebe, as Kuh is seen anxiously giving nervous interviews that would "jinx" Wiebe, as well as rounding up a crowd to witness the inevitable "kill screen"; scheming to steal Wiebe's thunder by submitting a taped game that reveals a million-plus score; prompting head judge Walter Day to input this score as the new official one, despite Mitchell's own claims that only "live scores matter"; and in the film's climax, Mitchell finally answers Wiebe's request for a head-to-head showdown for a Guiness World Record attempt after repeated snubbings, but arrived at the venue where the competition occured only to snub Wiebe again.

Some people have pointed out that I am long-winded in my writing; in this case, too many examples only justify that assertation. However, it has come to light that many facts are distorted to skew perspectives and give the story a definite bias. That said, the examples listed above appear to be true enough to prove Mitchell's plotting against Wiebe as well as to show the extent of the cult of his personality.

It also stands to note that the one detractor in the movie to Mitchell is the film's craziest - Roy Shildt, aka "Mr Awesome", depicted nude flexing his muscles with a similarily nude woman at his heels, as well as giving a pep talk on picking up woman with references to "gnarly poontang". Shildt is a man obviously jealous of Mitchell, having missed out on the fame Shildt believes he deserves, and is also a man depicted as being a dangerous, excessive personality. However, Shildt is able to surpass the first impression of him as an extremist and take the place as Wiebe's supporter properly since it clear that as Mitchell's "nemesis" (quote from the movie) he is outside his influence unlike every other competitive classic video gamer. While Shildt is armed with a spiteful grudge years in the making, Shildt is shown as a maniac with the deadliest weapon on his side - the truth.

Let's conclude: classic video gaming is very difficult and requires deft skills and steel nerves; all the people who compete in classic video gaming are obsessive personalities who are never seen to have any life outside of competitive gaming, like a family; Mitchell did not want his Donkey Kong score to be broken and schemed against Wiebe; and Mitchell enjoys fame and requires the submission of other personalities to bolster his own. The movie doesn't have to work hard to paint Mitchell in a negative light as he does it so well on his own, as most arrogent pricks like to do on their own accord.

While the movie ends with the claim that Wiebe would break Mitchell's million-plus score on a taped game (a score Mitchell would reclaim soon after) the real ending happens earlier with the acceptance of Wiebe by Walter Day and Twin Galaxies with an apology; this is due to the breaking of the cult of Mitchell's personality amongst the competitive gamer community. The one thing that Wiebe craved - acceptance - comes at the cost of the waning of Mitchell's influence. Day capitulated to logic and manners when accepting Wiebe into the community and acknowledged all the hardship - exacted by Mitchell - Wiebe had to endure to be recognized. Another telling conversation is when Steve Sanders warmly acknowledges Wiebe's skill and importance to classic gaming culture much to the visible displeasure and chagrin of Mitchell, sitting next to Sanders in the interview. This is coming from a man who Mitchell himself described as being "the person he is today because he came under the wrath of Billy Mitchell," meaning Sanders was once deeply ensconced in the Mitchell camp.

It goes on. In the credits, Robert Mruczek is shown to have quit Twin Galaxies as Head Referee after the controversy. Walter Day also seems to have turned over a new leaf and is releasing his first album and writing a new book. It's clear Wiebe's task wasn't just to break a world record for Donkey Kong; no, it had to be much more difficult than that because in order for Wiebe to do so, he had to break down Mitchell's cult of personality and not just change his life, but the lives of everybody involved.

That's why this became the "video game rivalry of the century": because Mitchell could not accept the damage to his established world, and not for any reason from Wiebe except to do the right thing. Instead of gracefully allowing some other guy to take the spotlight away from him, Mitchell is revealled as the insidious megalomaniac who hides behind his celebrity. In this conflict the highest score doesn't ultimately matter because it is Wiebe who wins for having the integrity to follow his dreams and stand up for himself. He isn't a hero for playing a video game well; he's a hero for being a good man in terrible circumstances - the backstabbing, unscrupulous world of competitive classic video gaming.

Quick analogy, as provided by my girlfriend: Wiebe is Mario/Jumpman. Mitchell is Kong. Mitchell's followers are the girder he stands on (which fall in the girder level). The barrels and fireballs are all the nefarious scheming Mitchell plots against Wiebe. The hammer is the truth that will set Wiebe free. And the damsel in distress that will never actually be rescued is the pointless competition of playing video games for a high score.

Dudes: playing video games doesn't win babes anymore. It's not the eighties, and people: chicks know that video games aren't that important. Cool, interesting maybe; but man, don't listen to that Mr. Awesome, whatever you do.


Rated: Three out of 3 stars. Highly recommended, but may influence a negative view of video games.