Juxtaposing Real Life with the Fantastic: The Gamers: Dorkness Rising

And so it begins. The semester is on me! Tomorrow, I start teaching my “History of the Novel” class; and, I begin, in earnest, the task of writing my dissertation prospectus. Be prepared for "reports" regarding those projects (if they treat on subjects relevant to this blog, of course).

Over "lunch-breakfast" this afternoon a good friend of mine reminded of a movie that I love. And so, I want to review it! Unlike the other film’s I’ve reviewed—the "Rankin and Bass Masterpieces" and The Dark Crystal, this film is not "mainstream," so there's a good chance you might not have heard of it.

Before proceeding into the review proper, however, you should know that it’s streamable on Netflix; also, the production company—an independent film company based out of Seattle called Dead Gentlemen Productions—has DVDs available on their website: Dead Gentlemen Productions

Apparently these folks have quite a following! All I know of them is this film, which I love. I’ve watched it at least five times.

One thing is certain: I’m seeking out more of their stuff. Because it’s not hyperbole when I suggest that this film, released in 2008, is already a kind of “contemporary” cult classic.

Gods! I haven’t even give you the title yet! The film is called The Gamers: Dorkness Rising, and it’s written and directed by Matt Vancil.

What’s it about? Well, it’s a little complicated to explain if you haven't played tabletop roleplaying games like Dungeons and Dragons. And yet—it’s quite easy to explain if you do play roleplaying games. If my description of the plot comes off to you non-RPGers as alienating, don’t be turned away! The humor and cleverness of this film is not so “sub-cultural” that you won’t find yourself laughing and perhaps touched.

Anyhow. Back to the question at hand. What’s it about? It concerns a group of friends who play Dungeons and Dragons together. If you play Dungeons and Dragons, then you know that D&D is a kind of “collaborative storytelling ritual.” Thus, the film also relates the story of this group of friends’s Dungeons and Dragons “campaign,” that is, the story they tell and act out together.

And so you have two narratives here: (1) the story of their real lives, sitting around the game table, laughing, drinking soda, arguing, etc., and (2) the story of their D&D campaign, set in a fantasy world plagued by the evil necromancer Mort Kemnon. So, you have two narratives juxtaposed over top of eachother here: a realistic one and a fantasy one. This narrative juxtaposition is the source of much of the pleasure of the film—its humor, its insights into human character, etc.. Let me try to explain.

An example. There’s one character, Gary, who has decided to play a sorcerer in the D&D game. And so he plays another character, a sorcerer. And yet, he can’t decide on which gender to make his character. And as he’s playing, he sometimes forgets his character is a girl. And so, you have a character in the fantasy world, a sorcerer/sorceress, by the name of Luster, played by two actors: Christian Doyle and Jennifer Page. One scene you have a scantily-clad, sexy sorceress; and the next scene you have a dude in excessively feminine sorceress’s clothing. What is the result of these complicated narrative swirlings that I’m having difficulty articulating here? Hilarity.

Aside front he plot, you have some very good comedic acting in here. The character of Flynn Fine, the womanizing bard (played by Scott C. Brown), is hilarious. There’s a scene where he attempts to use his bard-singing abilities to calm the rage of a marauding band of goblins, and is pin-cushioned with spears. This moved me to tears (tears of laughter, that is). When I watch the film, this scene is a “rewinder-and-play-againer”.

The stories of other characters--the game master, Kevin Lodge (Nathan Rice), and the “rules lawyer,” Cass (Brian Lewis)—are, in addition to being both hilarious and fun, touching stories. Kevin is struggling with writer’s block; Cass is struggling with his need to “win,” to be the best, the greatest, the one. There's another character, the fighter Daphne (Carol Roscoe), who is perfect at being the opposite of the stereotypical mighty-thewed warrior: intelligent, sweet, noble, and--nevertheless--deadly. In a fun way her character shines a lot of light on gender stereotypes.

For being an independent film company, the production value is also quite impressive. Costuming, computer effects, choreography, props, scenery: all of these suggest that this film is indeed an “independent,” low-budget production—and yet, the production elements seem to suggest a characteristic style, a unique flavor that is endearing and impressive rather than cheesy.

Anyhow, I love this movie! In juxtaposing “real life” with “fantasy life,” it reveals important inter-connections between the two; and it does this difficult work with humor and authenticity in a way only an independent production could.

The Animation Masterpieces of Rankin and Bass (Part 3 of 3): The Flight of Dragons

So, today is my third and final post of "The Animation Masterpieces of Rankin and Bass." This evening I conclude with reviewing The Flight of Dragons. If you're interested in my previous reviews, then here are the links!


The Hobbit (1977)
The Last Unicorn (1982)

And now--The Flight of Dragons

Of the three Rankin and Bass animation masterpieces I’ve reviewed over the past days, this is my favorite.

Unlike The Hobbit, which was a made for television movie, or, The Last Unicorn, which was released in theaters, The Flight of Dragons was released straight to video in 1982.

I find this intriguing because you would think the best of the three would have the widest public release. Not so. According to my personal opinion, it’s the other way around.

Unlike The Hobbit and The Last Unicorn, this film isn’t based on a single work. It doesn’t have a “primary text,” if you will, to accurately relate or deviate from. It’s based on other works, but it is a mixture of two: (1) the “speculative natural history” book titled Flight of Dragons (1979) by Peter Dickinson, and (2) the novel, The Dragon and the George (1976), by Gordon R. Dickson. I’m not familiar with either of these works (though I wish I was). Needless to say, the narrative of this film is unique and not one that precedes its production.

Some brief plot summary: the film concerns the adventures of a former biology student turned fantasy novelist / fantasy game maker. He creates a very “Dungeons and Dragons” type game and a world to go along with it. And, through some various magical happenings, he gets whisked away to the fantasy world he created. There he finds out that he is the champion of this world. He has to fight an evil necromancer named Ommadon (voiced by James Earl Jones). The story is filled with dragons, elves, rangers, knights, magical spells, fairies, slime worms, dreary taverns, etc..

On the level of plot, it’s very thrilling.

But the plot is not the only thing that endears me to this film. Let me just list some of the elements that make it a masterpiece.

The animation style: Rankin and Bass’s unique animation style comes through here. Slightly strange, borderline grotesque, the artistic style creates a tension between the real world elements the drawings are derived from and the abstractions the drawings are supposed to represent. Thus, there is a kind of rawness / baseness to it.

The drawings are stylized, for sure, but the nature of the stylization is such that it might even be described as a resistance to stylization. In other words, the artists strived for reality while realizing that reality was beyond the pale of animation. In other animated films, artists seem to abstain from any ambition to “realistically” represent something. And in this way you get the “four-fingered” hands of so much animation / cartoons.

The voice acting: There is some strange voice acting in this film, but it endears me to it. Particularly, the voice actor who plays the voice of the Princess character, Millisande, is quite awkward yet completely satisfying for its mystical, almost recitative quality. Also, the voice actor who relates the character of Smrgol the Dragon—James Gregory—is brilliant! He’s an old dragon, tired out by life, and the husky voice no-nonsense delivery completely communicates this. John Ritter does the voice of the main character, Peter Dickinson, and he ramps up the nerdy quality of his voice to the extreme. And, of course, James Earl Jones as the archvillain is just brilliant. He evil laughter is pure art.

The thematic content: For a kid’s film, this flick engages with some serious philosophical issues. Ultimately, this film is about the conflict between magic and science, empiricism and emotion, two fundamentally distinct ways of understanding the world. Without giving away too much of the plot, the main character becomes the avatar for reason and logic, science and math; thus, the baddies become the representatives of superstition, magic, fear, and other emotional ways of coming to terms with the world.

Spoiler alert: It’s a strange twist, but the main character’s quest ultimately preserves “the magical realm,” which is an absolute incongruity considering his way of understanding the world necessarily undermines it.

But I forgive this film this as it really begs the question, “Are our imaginations and flights of fancy, our impulses toward wonder and beautiful ignorance necessarily incompatible with the scientific endeavor? Is there something worthwhile is hearing “a god’s anger” in the thunder rather than, say, “the manifestation of a meteorological phenomenon?” Is there something lost when we “unweave” the rainbow?

The film doesn’t answer this rich question. It’s the source of its aesthetic power is that is even raises it.

Old School Roleplaying, the Writing of Fantasy Literature, and a Personal History of Wonder

As a writer of genre fiction, particularly of fantasy fiction, I want to acknowledge the influence fantasy roleplaying games like Dungeons and Dragons have had on me. These days many genre magazines and fantasy enthusiasts denigrate Dungeons and Dragons as a contaminating influence that aspiring writers should exorcise from the engines of their creative furnaces. Channeling Dungeons and Dragons, the argument goes, makes fantasy fiction formulaic and amateurish. I'm not sure where I stand on this issue. I've never had to read through a slush pile, and so I don't begrudge any magazine editor who makes these claims. And yet, it feels totally disingenuous for me to disclaim D&D a mite. Why? This is of course because my development as a writer was concomitant with my development as a fantasy roleplayer. With that said, I believe my experiences with D&D were more positive influences on my fiction and creativity than negative influences. The jury, of course, is still out on that.

This post is a brief collection of reminiscences of roleplaying games and their role in my perpetual struggle to write fantasy literature.

A history: in 1990 a board game was released in the U.S. titled, HeroQuest. It was a simple board game that simulated the adventures of a barbarian, an elf, a dwarf, and a magician through a variety of dungeons. At seven years old, I found the rules extremely complex and felt very smart for being able to read the entire handbook. But, if memory serves, this was my first encounter with fantasy RPGs.

I won't bore you with the full history of my relationship with fantasy roleplaying, which is no doubt typical of many folks my age. And yet, I'd like to relate some highlights.

By 1992 I had both the Dungeons and Dragons starter set (it was a black boxed set that included simplified Dungeons and Dragons rules and a dungeon, map, some plastic figurines, and some dice) and the Advanced Dungeons and Dragons player's handbook, dungeons master's guide, and monster manual. At 9 years old (a third-grader) I struggled with understanding the Advanced Dungeons and Dragons rules, but I had a mentor who guided me through.

It's a strange thing to admit this, but I was a fantasy roleplayer before I was an avid reader of fantasy literature. I know I read before the age of eleven, but I can't remember anything as stirring as my first encounter with J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit in 1993. After The Hobbit I quickly read The Lord of the Rings (I tried to read the Silmarillion then, but was just too confused). This was followed by C.S. Lewis's Narnia books. And thereafter I found myself reading Dungeons and Dragons novels, predominantly R.A. Salvatore and his Drizzt Do'Urden stories.

Television, film, and video games also added to this early fascination with fantasy, but the iron core of it all was, without a doubt, D&D. In terms of television, I remember watching the Thundercats, He-Man, Conan the Adventurer, and a strange cartoon called David the Gnome. In terms of film, I remember watching Arnold Schwarzenegger's in Conan the Barbarian until my family's bootleg VHS needed to be replaced; additionally, there was Jim Henson's The Dark Crystal and Labryinth, and, of course, George Lucas's Willow. Video games were changing so quickly, and so its somewhat hard to pin down a few specific titles (there were lots and lots), but Dragon Quest and Final Fantasy on the first Nintendo Entertainment System were extremely intense experiences. Later games were Ultima Online and Baldur's Gate.

In spite of all the fantasy film, television, and video-gaming I engaged in, the main attraction was no doubt fantasy roleplaying. I can't explain why, but I remember being filled with a sense of wonder, wandering through the RPG section of Walden Books, drinking up the artwork that adorned the covers of modules and campaign settings and sourcebooks. Indeed, a large part of my youth was spent mastering and playing Dungeons and Dragons.

It wasn't until middle school that anything like a coherent narrative ever evolved from my friends and my clumsy and yet extremely fun attempts at playing that game. Throughout middle-school and high school two particular gaming groups stand out. One campaign lasted the full part of my high school career and getting together with friends we still reminiscence about episodes from it. I hate to say it, but the main villain of that campaign--an evil sorcerer who plotted to take over the world named Tys the Fool--has, I believe, became a part of my adult personality.

By the time I went off to undergraduate school my fantasy roleplaying was no longer an important part of my life. Writing creatively had overshadowed it as a hobby. Of course this had a lot to do with the fact that the friends I grew accustomed to playing this game with were far away and the real world began to distract us from what really mattered, namely, that other place.

In 1997, after the original publisher of Dungeons and Dragons went defunct, I lost interest. Why? A third edition was released that for this reason or that I found repellent. I'm reluctant to even speculate as to why the third edition (and subsequent editions, even leading up to the 4th edition of today) don't stir me. A lot of wasted breath and writing, I think, has been wasted trying to defend or attack this or that edition of D&D. This is what I believe: D&D was (and is) an aesthetic experience, and so trying to explain why I hate 4th or 3.5 or 3rd and love 2nd and Gary Gygax's AD&D is like trying to explain why I believe this or that painting is ugly or beautiful.

With that said, I've created a new section in my blog that will focus on so-called "OSR (Old School Roleplaying). Although the main focus of this blog will still be the writing of weird fiction, I want to bring this element out in the open.

The fact of the matter is, if it wasn't for the experiences of wonder I had through the stories I told and heard and participated in through Dungeons and Dragons, I probably wouldn't be writing at all.