I wrote a whole post

I did.  It was about Big Brother, but the last time I did that I said that Pete chuffing Bennett was a really jolly nice chap and should win, which turned out to be WRONG and MISGUIDED, the Gamelan-paddling twat.

So I shall refrain from discussing any of the freaks-to-be-poked in the house this year, unless something happens which means I simply have to comment.  Like, as with the post I didn't use, Alex being chucked out.  But what did I have to say?  Nothing.  There's nothing sensible to be said, not by me anyway, and any comment will inevitably be banal.

In other news, I'm really coming round to Lego Indy and am starting to think I may have been a bit harsh.  It's no Star Wars, true, but it has its own joy.  The extra characters are still uninspiring, though.  Who honestly wants to play as Some Nazi Truck-driving Guy?  He's no Walrus-face.

You can't afford the drumkit

Though I can't approve of the price-point (£150 for a videogame?  Sure, you could just buy it without the instruments but by the same token you could also buy a Wii and throw away the remote), I have to say that Rock Band does get some points for using Suffragette City on its adverts.  In your face, Guitar Hero III!  Velvet Revolver?  I mean, honestly, who gives a shit?

Still.  The whole thing is getting out of hand.  Rhythm action games - does anyone still call them Bemani?  I think they probably don't - are, at best, a charming novelty.  Donkey Konga was great fun for a few days and now we have a pair of plastic bongos gathering dust.  They're quantatively better when you're not very good at them, because, you know, what's funnier than someone flailing madly at a pair of comedy bongos in vague time to a cover of Don't Stop Me Now?  Not much.  A nun falling over, maybe.  Alistair Darling being appointed Chancellor.  An elephant in flip-flops.

So, yeah, the idea of buying a game for £50+ and then honing your fake guitar skillz until you're standing in front of your TV, your plastic axe strapped round your neck, brow furrowed, playing along, note-perfect, to Velvet Revolver... Is it any worse than flailing about with the Wii remote, pretending to play tennis?  Well, I think it might be a bit.  At least you're not thinking "Yes.  I am bringing the rock" while you're playing Wii Sports.  Adding in friends on drums and vocals?  You're multiplying the uncool, but at least you're probably going to have some fun.  Still, that's another £100, just for a videogame!  The madness must end, before we're buying specialist peripherals for every two-bit music game that comes along.  Mind you, I'd be prepared to fork out as much as they dared charge for Glockenspiel Hero.

L'egoist

So, Lego Indiana Jones. Is it as good as Lego Star Wars? Is it as good as Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, even?
Well, no and yes. I mean, I liked Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (except for the end bit, which killed me to death), but I loooooved Lego Star Wars. I'm getting ahead of myself.

It plays well, definitely. The bouncy, seemingly-simple control scheme from LSW has translated well to the whip-crackin', treasure-plunderin', Nazi-punchin' Indy milieu. A swing of the Wiimote and Indy's whip is lashing at enemies or snatching up out-of-reach objects. Playing as other characters, the same action will cause them to smack someone in the face with a shovel, or crack them with a bottle. But you won't want to play as someone else for long. It's all about the Indy. The range of his movement far surpasses that of the Star Wars minifigs (ducking punches, slamming both-feet-first into an enemy's chest, swinging across gaps with his whip), and his charm in the cutscenes is bountiful (thanks largely to the accuracy with which Traveller's Tales mimic Harrison Ford in teeny-tiny plastic form... this is most evident in his College Professor incarnation).

There's a lot to love about Lego Indiana Jones, most of it from the source material. That music kicking in when the action is at its most hectic , or the aforementioned charm of the characters.

But there is something.. wrong, somehow. I suspect it's also due to the source. The set-pieces lack the frenetic rhythm of the films; quite rightly, of course, you're supposed to be able to enjoy them and beat them without being perfect. The boulder escape is a classic example - the film version is over in moments, really, but it's a huge scene. The Lego version lasts longer, giving you time to pick up extra studs and find secret passageways, but this has the side-effect of diminishing the peril. The Star Wars games got away with this because the pacing of the films tends towards the ponderous, even in the most frantic sequences. This allows the players time to wander through levels without feeling as if they really ought to be getting on with it. There's a sense through Lego Indy that, you know, things aren't happening quite fast enough.

Having said that, it looks great, it plays like a dream and it's still plenty fun. I look forward to the extras I haven't got yet, and I can see myself spending a lot of time wandering its large, rich levels.

A week is a long time in blogging

I missed last week's post!  Sorry, single-figure readership.  Still, you had a funny video to watch in the meantime, what's wrong with you?

Anyway, I went back to Plymouth this weekend.  Ah, Plymouth.  City of my... uh, year-or-so of renting.  We passed through Totnes on my way, and I was very excited by it.  It was a lovely place to live, and the simple act of passing through on a train made me smile.  Plymouth, well, I smiled but I wasn't really as happy.  I never really liked Plymouth.  Sorry, I know it'll be devastated.

They've got a big-assed shiny shopping mall in there now, which for a lot of cities is a cause for concern.  The town centre might be in trouble!  But with Plymouth... it's so bloody grim with its post-war austerity-years Albert-Speer-planning that a nice new mall is actually a good thing.  I bought jeans for the first time since I was 19!  Madness.

Anyway, other than that it's not changed.  If you'd like to visit, I can recommend the little cafe on the cliff side near the Citadel, just between the Mayflower Steps and the Hoe.  Nice cheese 'n' chutney sandwiches.