Saw- Losing it's edge?

There is a thin line between phsycological horror and random acts of pre-meditated murder with the saw series. Unfortunately, that line is made of piano wire and attached to a series of spikes. Apparently, the 'life-teacher' known as Jigsaw and the disturbed murderer Darren Lynn Bousman don't want anything crossing this line. So the two sub-genres stay separated, the influence of the original saw film aching to re-united with it's later iterations. If it wasn't for the chain round it's leg, it wouldn't have to lower itself to random acts of violence like; say, cutting it's own foot off with a saw. But alas, after the poor unfortunate soul has done the deed, the director stands up in a pool of blood, closes the door and leaves the phsycological horror genre to rot.

As a result, the series succumbed to the "torture porn" genre, trading a severed limb for millions of wrenched guts. The old Jigsaw; who put his "subjects" in what you may call an ironic life lesson, involving harsh moral decisions and a wee bit of self-harm- is gone. Now Bousman decided grungy bathroom, two men and one saw wasn't enough. He had a blood lust that could only be settled with- you guessed it: blood. And guts. And twisted limbs. And nitrogen gas on naked woman. And drowning men in slaughtered pigs' guts. The list is endless. There was no lesson to be taught through these trials. They were conceived merely to show an unsuspecting audience what limb can be twisted which way. That's the lesson. It won't change a persons life. But it'll take it.

If the later saw films could be judged on one factor, it would be visceral response. The films (excluding the first, of course) have been praised and criticised for the 'churning' factor. If you get a weird taste in the back of the mouth, you're either overly engrossed in the film's grotesque tortures, or are picturing too vividly the effect of the tortures on-screen to your own body, were you in that situation. For me, the only reason I may have been physically affected by the film's graphic nature would be because I found it sickening how a director could stray so far from a series roots. I think it's time for Bousman to say "game over."

"Finish the fight? Or fight online?"

Imagine. September 26th. Sweaty, Slothful teenagers all over the world will fire up their 360's in a bid to finish the fight. They will finish that fight. Then they will fight each other on the hallowed ground that is the Xbox Live arena. Blood will be shed. Lives will be lost. Not just the various Master Chiefs that litter Valhalla, but the sweaty, slothful teenagers that splashed their oh-so-precious cash on the next First-Person-Shooter.

Before I come down on one side, let me make it perfectly clear that I think Halo 3 looks like a great game. It appears to take everything that makes a staple FPS work and then blows it up to the point of bursting. The gameplay looks sublime, the graphics are brilliant and as for the sound-well, you listen to thirty seconds of the soundtrack and tell me you’re not amazed. But it's beyond these factors where Halo 3 stands out. The Forge editor, 4-player online co-op, a dynamic replay editor and advanced; if not amusing, AI's are just a few examples of Halo's highlights that separate it from the rest of the crowd, thus thrusting it into the hearts and minds of gamers and non-gamers alike. Most of this attention is not from the game itself, rather from the title "Halo," the epic advertising campaign and over three years of hype.

Whether it's the cinema ads, the cliff-hanger from Halo 2 or the legions of fans posting 10.0 reviews before they've even played the game, Halo 3 has the hype of a high-powered rollercoaster. And those sweaty teenagers are buying it! Read the reviews. 9.5 on IGN and Gamespot. Now listen to what they’re saying. “Halo 3 is awesome! The Forge editor, the co-op, OMFG! But it was a bit overhyped.” At the end of the day, is hype not all Halo 3 has going for it? Sure, the game itself is great, but before the reviews hit the net some time yesterday, sweaty teenage gamers with acne and obsessive-compulsive disorder (Gears of War insane, anyone?) would have gladly believed what Bungie wanted them to believe. It’s a case of “ignorance is bliss” and the 1 million-upwards pre-orders online and in stores are testament to this.

Despite this, come Wednesday, every teenager and game-obsessed man-child is going to be clawing at game shelves, ravishing their ill-deserved copies of Halo 3. Then, for the next four years of their life, no-one will see them, except their 60-year-old mother bringing them soda refills so as to prolong their headshot marathons and machinima rip-off wannabes. With this lot, the fight will never be finished. And Bungie couldn’t be happier...

A new brain age of gaming.

I'm sure we've all seen the advert. You know, the one where a "typical" family of hired actors sit around the living room on Brain Training pretending to be enjoying themselves, even the teenage daughter who obviously has nothing better to do with her thriving social life. A few weeks ago, I would have remained firmly rooted to the belief that such activity by means of solving calculations was nothing short of insane. But then I saw it.
Sitting on the table in our dining room was a neatly packaged copy of Brain Training. "It's for your sister," my dad informed me. I dismissed it at the time, but fifteen minutes of gameplay proved me wrong. Contrary to my arrogant beliefs, it turned out to be a really good game. I fell in love with the Sudoku and indulged in the idea that the billions of thoughts and processes flying through your mind every second could be judged by the most eccentric and blocky faced Doctor I've ever seen. And you haven't been to my local hospital!
Fairly soon, a new idea formed between me and my brother- that we could compete aggressively to have a higher brain age. I shut that infernal Nintendo advert out my mind and focused it on the dual screen that rested before me. After bringing a questionable brain age of 80 to 37, I realised that by playing daily I could best my brother with my superiority, a notion hopefully shared by anyone with a sibling. This contradicted Nintendo's plan. We were playing daily, yes, but we were on a whole different level than those people on the train into London.
With all this going on, I overlooked the fact that my dad and seven-year-old sister were on the brain wagon. Hopefully no-one else would jump on it. With almost the whole families brain ages on that fateful touch screen, I thought of that Nintendo advert. I thought of the crap actors, how they may have been playing their role well. (As suming they were actors) I thought of that teenage girl, how maybe she didn't have anything better to do, but not because she was a loser. But most of all, I thought of the way they sat around laughing and happily chugging away on the thought train. This contrasted with our family, who's intense competition was the equivelent of either a chainsaw-revving shooter, or several rounds in the bull pit wearing a red cape and armed with a bloody pole.