A collection of my MostlyFilm articles on videogames.
A loose trilogy:
Separately, but carrying through a lot of the same sorts of thoughts, on GTA and Saints Row.
The Dragonborn returns to Skyrim, having been distracted by other worlds and challenges.
The Wright Way is undeniably a special thing. The reaction to it has been off-the-chart vicious; it’s like the hysterical woman in Airplane!, with every corner of the media lining up to take a bash at it, and, at first glance, that would seem about right. The mugging, the pauses for punchlines to fit into, the generic theme music, the middle-aged-manliness of it all. But look again and it’s possible we’re missing something. Something good. For I come here not to bury The Wright Way, but to praise it.
Half-written a long time ago, I had plans to develop it further but suddenly it’s relevant…
I’m experiencing an odd emotional state, at present. I’m, well, I’m proud. To be British. Not simply because we did so amazingly well in the Olympics; it’s because we’re doing so well at embracing our success. We’re happy, as a nation, to be a nation. It’s not something we’re used to, but we’ve gone at it, taken the opportunity to be great, claimed our country as ours. Everyone here belongs to the country, and the country belongs to all of us. Those few athletes who are our representatives, they’ve shown us something of themselves -determination, brilliance – and something of ourselves.