These days the thought of going to the local megaplex can indeed be perplexing. So the other day I decided to bypass the crowds occupying those vacuous movie halls and take an unscheduled trip to my local cinematheque. Here I was met with surly hello and a less-than-enthusiastic "What movie," but this was okay. In fact, it was excellent or at least better than the standard assembly line antics of the big theater queue. I felt a little inspired, as if the ticket man's performance was custom tailored. I proceeded to purchase refreshments, a medium popcorn and a small cherry coke. The man behind the counter (coincidentally also the owner) hurried me off to my theater (there are only two). I sat down about five rows from the back to prevent neck sprain, and anxiously awaited my movie. The name of the movie doesn't matter; frankly, I could have seen just about anything and I still would've had a good time. No, this trip to the theater was a chance for me to enjoy the whole experience of "going to the movies." This place had an old-fashioned attractiveness or charm to it. And yes, by charm, I mean the dusty drapery, the pieced-together carpeting, the loud projector etc. When the projectionist, also the owner, turned on the projector I noticed the image was off, half way off the screen by my estimate. But this was fine; through natural processes the problem was solved. About three minutes into the movie, one of the four other patrons in the theater finally decided to go tell the projectionist about the framing issue. Seconds later the image bounced and bobbled around the screen before ultimately landing in a spot that roughly fit on the screen. I imagined it was agreeable to all since no one complained. The flicker and pitter-patter of the projector was oddly comforting. It was a pretty quiet crowd, an older couple, a couple of loners and me. One of the other patrons did get up to use the restroom once, which is located inside the theater. How cool is that? Towards the end of the movie I noticed my soda was running out so I refilled-50 cents. As I left the theater I felt satisfied, as if I'd accomplished something by acknowledging the values embodied within the small local theater instead of bypassing them. Movies are an experience, albeit a rather passive one, but going to the movies is an experience too. There's excitement to be had. Be amazed!

First things first: I have not played Braid. I look forward to playing it soon. That being said...
On the drive to work today I was station surfing, because there is never anything good on, when I came across an NPR segment written by Heather Chaplin titled "Xbox's 'Braid' A Surprise Hit, For Surprising Reasons." I immediately thought two things: why was a video game getting media attention for anything other than violence and/or record breaking sales? And, damn I want to play Braid. So I listened. It was the usual outside perspective on video games with sound bites like, "Braid feels like a game that a grown-up can play" and "Blow [game designer] has violated one of the cardinal rules of game-making: that games have to be fun." I don't know if it was the apparent lack of respect to the video game medium as an art form, or the fact that NPR had decided to champion this game as one of the only sophisticated "grown-up" games that angered me the most. NPR, of course, was apt to point out how different this game is than others by comparing it to blood-busters like Gears of War and Halo 3. But here's the thing: Why is our definition of what can be considered an art-form in the video game medium so narrow? Apparently, a game has to be a philosophical journey to the abyss of sadness and self reflection to be labeled with the A-Bomb(you know what I mean). I guess I'm just a bit disappointed that the medium has failed to garner any serious critical praise or stricture for its content and/or sophistication. Whether it's blood-and-guts or spaceships-and-asteroids, games, like their entertainment counterparts i.e. movies, have content too. And it's about time we break out that toolbox (or maybe a different one) and start critiquing that content with the same analytical composure that we apply to other mediums. It's only fair.
NPR Article