American Assassin: Tom Clancy for Dummies

Back in the 80s, for reasons that really defy logic, the classic spy genre of literature changed from your basic premise of debonair-spy-steals-microfilm-and-probably-kills-the-bad-guy-to-prevent-a-sequel to something... darker. While this was mostly because the bygone era of the genre changed with the times, it wasn't helped by the fact that, with the threat of total nuclear war dissipating to an almost non-existent conclusion, it was harder for readers to fathom why any spy would actually behave in a way that would encourage an angry nuclear power to retaliate. As a result, novels became more about the analysis and characters who were less James Bond and more Jason Bourne, more likely to just kill the threat rather than play baccarat and argue about martinis. Now, with even that whole section of the genre beginning to jump into the Age of Terrorism, Hollywood has decided to latch onto the premise (ten years too late) for the sake of filling their docket. The result: a decently acted but ultimately bland action movie with little reason to exist outside of a Hollywood number crunch.

Hey, I can be nice here for a bit: American Assassin works great if you like Michael Keaton and his wonky brand of acting. Despite being in a movie far below his own pedigree (the man was in Birdman for crying out loud!) and probably being the only guy who thought to earn his paycheck (he's the only guy who seems to be selling the hammy dialog), Keaton excels as an angry spy trainer with a simple mixture of mystery (which isn't actually that mysterious) and a more gritty performance than was probably warranted. Despite what I'm about to follow this paragraph with, know that the ultimate reasons for this movie's failure never have the line “Because of Michael Keaton” in it anywhere. Got it? Good.

Unfortunately, with Keaton safely in a bubble and removed completely from the movie, this is little more than an amateur attempt at a cheesy spy flick; never really knowing if it wants to go for gritty (because of Keaton) or it prefers the action approach (via its poorly choreographed fight scenes and shootouts) or if it wants to rely on its poor attempt at modern intrigue (via dialog that feels like it was read off of a teleprompter). Regardless of the promised premise of an angry man (Dylan O'Brien) seeking revenge for his losses and inadvertently becoming a super spy, nothing ever works how its supposed to. There's no character investment, none of the story really goes anywhere and, when it finally over, the only real advancement you feel is that you've wasted about two hours of your life watching the equivalent of a Tom Clancy short story while your waiting for better movies to come out and justify the movie theater's existence again (it's been a REALLY bad year at the movies).

As for watching it, don't. You could argue that, because it has O'Brien and because he was kind of awesome in those two Mazerunner movies (before that franchise was killed) he might be able to move onto another action franchise with his own on-screen charisma, but this movie doesn't actually require him to be anything more than a bland, blank slate character with only the tiniest of motivations to actually be doing what he's doing. You know what? Go watch It (the movie with the clown; not the pronoun for this movie) and be happy that Kingsman 2 is coming and there might still be hope to salvage this consistently awful movie season. Seriously, this movie season needs to die already.

Michael Cuesta (T.V.'s Elementary) tries to make his first big-screen action movie and pretty much proves he needs to stick with television with American Assassin, a wonky, unintelligible train wreck of an action movie that, save for the grace of Batman (Keaton), pretty much relegates itself to the bargain bin come rental time. To avenge the death of his fiance at the hands of terrorists, Mitch Rapp (O'Brien) joins a CIA offshoot known as Orion and tries to sound interesting for the rest of the movie. What's there to say? Stuff blows up, most of the characters basically deliver their lines phonetically and every single actor acts like they'd rather be anywhere else but in this movie. You were probably awesome in book form, Mitch Rapp. Maybe you should've stayed there...

My score: 3/10. Dear next week's Kingsman 2: please be a passable movie with relatable characters and an interesting story. That is literally your minimum requirement at this point.

Life is Strange: Before the Storm Episode 1: More of the Same; A Little Less

2015's Life is Strange might be one of my favorite point-and-click, choice-based adventure games that rose above much better reviewed (and even better selling) titles of the same genre (Walking Dead, Game of Thrones, All TellTale Games) simply by being different where it counted. Before LiS, I felt contempt for the genre merely because, due to vague displays and obnoxious timed responses, most of my characters tended to come off as unintentional assholes (Lee talking to Clementine with no indication of the inflexion of the conversation is an example) forcing me into the unwanted situation of potentially playing through a game with unskippable cutscenes and overlong dialogue sequences for a second time just to find out what I missed with the other option (note to developers: these games NEVER warrant a second playthrough). But LiS was different merely because of its most gimmicky mechanic: the time reversal ability. With this ability, I was now able to merely rewind when I didn't like the outcome and, barring an endgame decision, could easily reverse tactics. This gave LiS an edge over more conventional and (arguably) better games. I no longer worried what Max would say because rewinding and going Plan B was just as feasible and option. And while, in the end, the mechanic really meant nothing to the overarching narrative (the game would end on a binary choice regardless) the gameplay was backed up with a story told from the heart. Regardless of how you felt about mousy Max Caulfield or the seemingly incomprehensible anger of Chloe Price, you rooted for these characters because they felt more human in their emotions. These weren't superheroes trying to save the world or hardened survivors barreling toward some awesome, action-filled climax. This was a story of loss made bearable by the chance to rectify past mistakes. Regardless of your A or B decision in the end, you spent a week with someone important to you and, much like the ending to The Leftovers, you're level of success was dictated not by your actions but by your ability to just fucking BE THERE ("You're Here" might be the best explanation ever uttered on any show ever). Now, with 2017 nearing its end and the adventure genre kind of floundering, Square Enix has decided to continue a story that never really warranted a continuation. As of Life is Strange Before the Storm Episode 1: the same soul minus the only mechanic that made it unique from the rest of the dreg.

Let me be honest: I actually love Episode 1: Awake despite its total lack of replayability. Chloe Price is back (and very much alive) and her burgeoning relationship with Rachel Amber (also very much alive) keeps the story interesting and endearing enough even for the collector-crazy gamers who search every square inch of each map. Regardless of what you play these types of games for (mostly achievements/trophies) there is a soul here that makes you want to genuinely learn this story despite already knowing its tragic conclusion. Rachel Amber, often barely more than a plot-pushing point in the first game, is a well fleshed-out character with a compelling story (she carries a veneer of a perfect life while wallowing in the more tragic aspects of it) and, despite being an obviously bad influence on Chloe, you will root for her because it actually feels like these two need each other at the moment. Chloe, the angry punk chick who had terrible dialog and serious abandonment issues in the first game, comes off as a young woman veering toward the breaking point; her relationship with her mother is falling apart, her school life is hell and her reputation as a bad girl seems to have become her very character to everyone who knows her. When these two finally meet, the sense that they become one (due to being opposites with small connective tissue to keep them together) becomes more believable the longer they share scenes together. That's hard to write around. It's usually impossible to write believably.

As for bad, the Backtalk mechanic is a poor replacement for Max's Rewind and it shows in just how little it is actually utilized (three times in a three hour period). I'm aware that this mechanic is necessary in order for it to play as something different like its predecessor, but the idea that, every hour or so, a seemingly random event happens with a bunch of multiple choice nonsense just kind of boggles the mind. If your going to make this without the mystical side, that's fine. Backtalk is not the way to make this work properly.

Whatever. It's still the first Episode 1 of an adventure story that I've willingly played all the way through since the original and I'm still invested in the characters enough to want to see what happens next. Sure, lack of Max hurts a little, but its believable considering she would still be hiding in dark corners in Seattle at this point so, no worries. I've played far worse sequels in my life and none of those made me cheer at the end. Pick your heartbreak.

My score: 8/10.