Love Hurts: Why Modern Romantic Comedies Inevitably Suck

Hello hello!

Time for more thinky bits. I know y'all love it when I analyse things, and for a change, I'm going to focus on something I hate instead of something I love. Namely: modern romantic comedies. 

Why do I hate them, personally? Sure, I'm a cis (that is, 'happy with my born sexual identity') white female, but I always preferred action and explosions for a dumb flick over something a couple of chocolates and a frilly bow short of estrogen poisoning. Romcoms, like the ones that proliferated in the 90s, are an insult to intelligence, the characters are shallow...well, I could go on about the whys, and I'm about to. It's not that I don't like love stories--I do, in fact, and often write a bit of romance into my plots. 

What may surprise you, then, is that I absolutely love Jane Austen. I've touched on this before, as well as my abiding love for the Brontes. In fact, I'm fond of a lot of 19th century literature, and a bit of an Anglophile (although I love French and Russian literature from the same era to exactly the same extent). So--how, you ask, can I like the original queen of the genre's writings, and race to Netflix and the internet whenever I hear that Pride and Prejudice or another Austen work has been adapted or re-adapted? Shouldn't I be shrivelling up like a salted slug at the mere thought of romance? 

I was watching a few reviews tonight on ThatGuyWithTheGlasses.com, a favourite site, when the answer hit me: modern romantic comedies totally deserve my ire because they're broken, and have been for years. Many serious romances are also pretty phuqued, but it's the comedies that are really boiled dry, and I finally know why. 

A brief note before I get into things--I'm going to focus on what I know, which is confined to English-language romances, mostly American and Hollywood-based. The issues I bring up may not be relevant or fit for a critique of Chinese, Indian, African, or other international romantic comedy films (which, unfortunately, I haven't had a chance to see many of), and certainly not the far more intelligent romantic comedies I've occasionally seen coming out of Europe.  I'd love to see some of the romances and romantic comedies of other countries, so if you have recommendations, please mention them in the comments. 

Source. It's only romantic because there are no nocturnal predators. In neolithic times they would have been so dead. 

A bit of background (pink background)

Just in case you've been fortuitous enough to escape one of the many lackluster rom-coms that have come out in the last couple of decades, let me save you a bit of work. From Meg Ryan to Julia Roberts to Katherine Hegel, we've had a number of stars make their careers based on rom-coms. Sex and the City milked an entire series of movies and a TB--I mean, TV--show from it, and there have been many other TV shows as well. From the 1980s to the 2000's, an absolute rash of films powered by these and lesser stars came out to appeal to pink-wearing period-suffering female cliches everywhere. 

The formula

The formula is simple: man and woman meet. Man and woman fight, often because they are competing over something. Man and woman may also be longterm friends who suddenly realise they're perfect for each other. Token love interests crop up to add complications. Woman's friends do girly things. Man's friends make misogynistic remarks. Man and woman are attracted to each other and sometimes sleep together. Awkwardness/personality faults/some contrived competition drives a wedge between them. It appears all is lost, but then a last minute save of some sort (usually the man's apology and rarely the woman's) fixes all. Harmony is restored and the couple dwells blissfully in ForeverDatingLand. 

It tends to be loaded with cliches and very poor. The movies are also notoriously repetitive. And yet, older versions of the same story are often charming, or at least bearable, for all their faults. Modern romantic comedies, like 500 Days of Summer and Kissing Jessica Stein, are also starting to move in a different direction. 

I'm ignoring the escapist side of things, such as the fact that romcoms and romances usually feature wealthy and attractive people that the audience wishes they could be/knock boots with, for the simple reason that most media has something of a fantasy element to it. I can't use magic or ride a steam-powered horse in real life, either, so that vicarious element averages into other genres as well. 

Source. As we all know, this is how people dressed in the 19th century. At all times.

Let's drop the history. 

The problem with romantic comedies, compared to their source material, is a temporal and societal one. Back in the days of Austen and her contemporaries, firm and rigid social rules determined the fate of women in the middle and upper class. Fail to follow them, and exile and disgrace--the sort that could ruin a family financially and socially--inevitably occurred. A woman's marriage meant everything, determining not only her own future and that of her children, but influencing that of her family, as well. Marrying for love wasn't really that common--one married for duty and love was supposed to develop. The rise of the middle class and the Industrial Revolution changed things, making people more prosperous, and cultural shifts led to a greater emphasis on freedom of expression. 

It's no coincidence that the many women in factories and even in the upper classes started to get uppity. The beginnings of women's rights and suffrage started here; dragging women into the workforce and out of the countryside changed everything. 

These societal clashes were very important in romantic books of the time, too. Tess of the D'Urbervilles is a fine example of a woman helpless to and aware of the dis-empowerment forced by her social class. Mansfield Park, one of my favourites, is all about the inequality within a household. Of course, Jane Eyre is another prime example of the same, as is Wuthering Heights (which is also about faeries and changelings, by the way. I should post about that for you guys some time). If you ended up at a disadvantage or made a simple misstep, boom, that was it. For the rest of your life. It provided a lot of tension, and because the issues are serious, the books resound with us to this day.

Say what? What do you mean by 'broken'?

The problem is--and here, I admit I'm conflating romances and romcoms a bit--modern stakes just aren't the same. The older books generally tend to have real antagonists, and a better understanding of human nature. Even when modern comedies are rather good, they still avoid the really uncomfortable issues implied or explicitly explored in older works. Instead, they play contemporary issues for drama to an exaggerated extent (hello, Nicholas Sparks), rely on illnesses, or make mountains out of molehills. 

Women had little to do except marry up. Now that we have careers and independence and enough money to be wasteful, or almost enough, the issues that made earlier works so urgent are basically gone. Things that would have been social death in a previous era are now mere inconveniences at worst, and that makes the social awkwardness in movies feel forced at best and terribly shallow and annoying at worst. We're allowed to talk, albeit poorly, about uncomfortable subjects now, and to really appreciate the stakes in a previous era's romance, one must understand that openness was verboten. Sex is usually offscreen, or goofy, or perfected for romantic comedies, and is almost never raunchy or kinky in a realistic way. 

In addition to easy fixes and simple solutions, romcoms skim over real emotional issues and avoid long term repercussions, focusing to psychotic exclusion of reality on the gratification of the romance. While a lot of women who read Austen kind of ignore this, the appeal in her books is that everything has repercussions and that all the small actions are followed up on later. The romances determine the women's life paths, and their interactions with other characters all pay off. The overarching human stories--somewhat touched on--that involved things not at all related to the LOVE STORY actually threw it into greater focus. People remember Elizabeth's sisters as much as they remember Elizabeth and Darcy, and there's a reason for that. 

Modern stuff has simply recycled the formulas used previously without understanding why they work. From the rote formulas, they copied the stories' details and took diligent notes, but failed to get across the soul of the story and the real conflict. Simply, they're a mix of unrealistic and unhealthy ideas with a fatal dose of anachronism. That's why they suck, empirically speaking.

Source. This would accurately reflect the fact that romance isn't a tidy affair.

How do we fix it? 

For starters, diversity would be nice. White people inevitably and sickeningly dominate the romantic scene. My Big Fat Greek Wedding explored culture clashing, and was reasonably smart and fun, but we need a lot more of that--preferably without condescending racist subtext. Adjusting the expectations for the female and male lead--such as the male lead's generally useless career and role--is also needed. 

Fortunately for us, the industry is starting to respond to the fact that romantic comedies are kind of a dead market. Only 19 of the hundreds of films coming out in 2013 are romances, and of the comedies, only a couple are remotely romantic. Having realised that chicks like guns and action and plots as much as guys do, the market is finally dead. We're still dealing with poor representation of women in action movies and mostly whitewashed casts, and with the majority of films (even from feminist Joss Whedon) failing the Beschdel test ( a) two female named characters b) talk to each other c) about something other than a man), the death of romcoms hasn't done much on its own to move us forward.

Interestingly, Twilight and 50 Shades of Grey, much as I have previously mocked both, have helped us get away from traditional romcoms, replacing them--and much of romance--with paranormal romance and BDSM and more erotic fiction. It's a somewhat lateral move, but the fact that women are more comfortable with these decidedly less passive and more aggressive displays of sexuality is probably a good thing. They still play into the same cliches as their predecessors, though, for the most part, so the real effect of the shift has yet to be seen.  

So, in summary of things to fix--a plot that deviates from the classics and gives female characters some agency, and gives men actual desires and feelings (rather than making them wish-fulfillment machines) would be great. Also, more lesbians and more gay men who don't just do hair or interior decorating or serve as hetero women's pets. Everything focuses on people between the ages of sixteen and thirtysomething, with a few rare exceptions, so we could stand to see a few more (dignified) comedies and films about middle-aged and old people. Queering up the joint would be a lot of fun, but anything not dealing with hetero white people usually gets confined to film festivals. Glee, of all things, and other media, are sloooowly bridging the gaps between 'alt' sexuality and 'normal' sexuality (can you see me wincing over the internet?) but we still have a long way to go. 

Fortunately, a few of these films do exist, so you can still cuddle up with a love story and you won't absolutely have to turn your brain off. 

Source. Those candles and rose petals should be used, not just sit there for decoration. You can do some fun things with a little hot wax... 

My recommendations 

I like my romances to be more complex and dark, as well as to have a lot more context and content than your average Harlequin in film or TV form. Here's a mixed list of a few of the romantic movies I've seen and liked. 


1) One of the best romances I've ever seen has to be Be With Me, a Malaysian mostly-silent film about intertwining storylines that's truly beautiful and moving. 

2) Across the Universe also earned points from me for not only having a stunning visual design, but addressing human flaws, multiple sexual issues, identity, and the ugly side of the 60s in a nicely stylised way. 

3) Mambo Italiano was an uncomfortable but memorable and realistic little Canadian comedy about an Italian-Canadian boy who has to deal with being gay and a painfully funny emergence from the closet. 

They're available on the internet and Netflix, so go enjoy them when you have a moment. 

*****

Thanks for dropping by the nest once again. Don't miss any of the good kind of crazy. Find me on Twitter, Facebook, and on Tumblr. Watch out for my fantasy-themed spring: interviews with fantasy authors, content related to fantasy films and reviews, and some political commentary--the phuquerie you've come to expect from me. Keep checking back to see those surprise posts, too. This is your darling SciFiMagpie, over and out! 

Breaking Yawn: How to Fix The Twilight Series

Hello, hello!

Today, we touch on a dark topic, one that has evoked the strongest of feelings for the last handful of years. For some, they are feelings of love, frenzied adoration, and longing; for others, passionate hatred and disgust. And for still others, they are feelings of pain in the lungs and abdomen after laughing too hard. I speak, of course, of that literary abortion, Twlight.

After perusing that pre-eminent page of perlustration, Reasoning with Vampires, I remembered something I'd conceived earlier in the year. Unlike Bella's demon-child abomination, this conception had some merit to it. Bear with me, here; I managed to find a sensible theme in Twilight as a series. It's a remote possibility, but it may be that Stephanie Meyer is smarter than she looks, and has thrown all of us for a loop. Twilight, you see, can be read as a heavily allegorical American fable about the downfall of the economy and the world today.

Oh, there's my monacle. Right, then.

Thanks, Leonhart! Not sure if subtle acting, to be perfectly true to book...or showcase of incompetence...

Bella: Airheaded and abstracted, her depressed state is a mainstay of the books. She is detached from the world around her, and even from the boy she mentions as an object of obsession. This is a fine representation of the current state of the youth of America. Disenfranchised, they pay lip service to ideals that are fading fast in the glare of modernization and a new world. Forks is represented as an old-fashioned town, where the modern young Bella is adrift--even though its inhabitants purport to be friendly, her poor self-esteem causes her to distrust and reject them. Her immersion in old-fashioned literature is remarkable for her lack of absorption and connection with it. In spite of being able to name-check many fine authors, she passes over them as if their work has had no effect on her, no emotional resonance. She becomes obsessed by a thing she seems to hate...that is...

Edward: He is clearly an embodiment of the American dream: to be rich, coming from a balanced and wealthy family, and envied by all. He is physically perfect, but not tame, still wild and independent: a perfect American hero as much as a Byronic hero. He is a cowboy-like Lone Star figure who cannot be captured without sacrifice. His vampirism represents the way this dream is sucking the life out of the youth of America, who cannot escape it and are oppressed by their obsession with it. He even sparkles, not unlike the glittering hopes of the nation. His arrogance, entitlement, and infuriatingly superior personality keep him out of reach, while his form and figure are described as the glass of fashion and as 'angelic'. Need I mention the hint of Lucifer-like characterization in this literally "dazzling" love interest? Add, too, his moral stances, romanticised chastity, and Christian beliefs; and clearly we see Meyer's attempts to show the allure of bygone principles.

Jacob: With his doglike aspect and the subordination he is subject to, is a representation of both First Nations people and the family. His heritage is heavily emphasized in the series, as is the conflict between his people and the American Dream team. He is constantly oppressed by the American dream and shunted to the side by society. Bella, representing the youth of America, finds him appealing and relateable, but ultimately dismisses his devotion and affection as uninteresting. (She frequently discards adoration from others in the same way, illustrating her alienation further.) This has actually happened in 'real America'; consider the cultural appropriation by hipsters of First Nations art and symbolism for aesthetic reasons. Consider, too, that other non-whites become white when they are made into vampires; Jacob, unable and unwilling to assimilate, must be conquered another way. He eventually is subservient to Bella and Edward, and is assimilated in this fashion. This is shown by the way he falls in love with their child, whom he is willing to care for even if she can't return it as romantic love.

Ultimately, though, the pursuit of absolute happiness is an ideal that is more destructive than hopeful. Bella herself becomes a vampire in the end, after much debate. Her struggle is unhindered by her parents, remnants of the unsuccessful older generation who long to capture the dream themselves. Still, she debates with herself, endlessly tortured--is it worth giving up everything she knows to chase a dream? It seems blessed by god, and sure to bring her immortality, but what is its price? When she withdraws from the world and bears a child, she dies. Clearly, bringing a dream into reality is painful, and often more destructive than it is creative. Edward himself is disgusted by the child and considers it an abomination. After the birth, Bella becomes one with her dream, and in doing so, loses everything. She has become a part of the American Dream, but at the cost of her own destruction.

...Either it was the most subtle metaphor ever, or it was just an over-rated piece of racist, heteronormative, misogynistic crap. I can dream, but ultimately, there is no way (I hope) that Meyer intended all those levels of subtext.

Source. Thank you, Reasoning with Vampires. Dana, you give the best relationship advice!

I did mention fixing the series, though, implying that apart from my rather dark and hopeless reading of the themes, it would be possible to salvage this pile of soppy, overly emotional dreck. After a late-night ponder with the boyfriend, I found some actual solutions.

1) Good Editing: I'm only going to mention the soul-destroying, hilariously awful writing of Meyers for a moment, because it's been done elsewhere. And done again, brilliantly. Still, the writing is really abominable on a mechanical level. Cut out the excessive descriptors and go all Wuthering Heights up in this bitch, and you'd get some very interesting results. That novel, by the way, is characterized by really good descriptions of weather and terrain. Not only are they exceptionally skilful, they advance the plot, augmenting it like a small diamond set next to a larger gem. Take note, aspiring writers; your descriptions can be useful, instead of so much literary fapping.

2) MOAR DARKNESS!: Cut out the crap about her boring family, the kids at school, and the Cullens, or make it darker. Bella is already mopey...give the bitch something to mope about, and something to fear! Give the enormous cast of minor characters some genuine characterization, and make it sinister. Forks is too innocent and boring, and it could use some shadows. Hell, even a few cheesy ghost legends would help a bit. No one, especially Bella, ever seems to have had anything at stake, and the worse things that have happened are a slightly sad divorce and a car accident. More blood and guts, please, with a side of trauma. Make it painful. There is a bit of gore, sure, and the whole 'my boyfriend may eat me and not in a fun way' thing, but the fact that Edward is abusive is far more frightening than his vampirism. That is not good.

3) The Love Interests Need to be Monstrous: imagine a world in which vampires don't sparkle, they kill. Yes, I know, it's Anne Rice's territory, but her work is bogged down by pornographic details. Emphasizing the Draculean monstrosity of Edward's hunger and personal magnetism would have made for a much more interesting struggle. Jacob, too, should have done more slavering and less whining and cringing. A little more horror--other than the horror of all of those superfluous commas and dashes--would have done the job so nicely. As it is, the stalking, obsession, and threats of danger are often hilarious and disturbing rather than really frightening. Instead of being swept up by her love, intelligent readers worry for Bella's mental health, as much as it's possible to worry about such a despicable character.

4) Bella Sucks: Bella, of course, is a monster for different reasons, but if she had had her naivety abused by Edward and Jacob, it would've been a very different story. Her jaded, strained, depressed persona would have to go, obviously. or else it would have to be contrasted with some genuinely likeable traits. Give her a history of abuse, or at least a reason to be such a tough, emotionally resistant broad. A dose of tomboyishness would work, for instance. She hates everyone, and they like her in spite of it; any analysis of her character reveals a frighteningly warped personality. Instead of acting as though her stupidity and meanness are normal...why not worth around these traits? Bella lacks self-awareness even more than she lacks self-esteem, and that's saying something. Granted, she's a teenager, but even the most difficult teenagers have not inspired so much hatred. A harpoon gun to the face is the only thing that would improve Bella Swan at present, and there has to be a better way.

5) Atmosphere: Well, I have to give Meyer this much: she did a good job at establishing an atmosphere in spite of herself. Now, while I am tempted to regurgitate my supper at the mere admission that Meyer got something right, I have to underline this. The meteorological descriptions and scenery are, at heart, not too bad. The erotic tension in the book is also interesting, although the puritan approach to sex is a serious downfall. More sexytimes--less than Anne Rice, but more than what is currently shown--and more storms, with better descriptions, would have really enhanced the power of the setting and mood.

There's probably more that could be added here, but as entire blogs have been devoted to the subject, I'll leave my two cents here.

*****

Thanks for returning, ladies, gents, and people in-between. For more delightfully witty commentary, you can find me at Twitter and on Tumblr. This is your SciFiMagpie, over and out!

Luv in Space! Part 2: Mass Effect Romances

Welcome back! 

Well, it's been a couple of days since Part 1--non-blog writing distracted me from the internets, but I'm sure the prospect of more funny soon will allow you all to forgive me. 

So! Let's not waste any time with an intro--if you're confused, read Part 1--and get right down to talking about love. And sex. And censorship. I don't think I even need to say that this involves a lot of Mass Effect and a lot of spoilers. If you haven't played the games in a while, do so; meanwhile, the Mass Effect wiki, available here: http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Mass_Effect_Wiki is a solid source and a handy way to figure out who and what the hell I'm talking about. 

I previously outlined a few basic 'pros' and 'cons' of the love interests by describing their personalities and a few strengths and weaknesses. Bioware needs some serious applause for its effort in developing rich, interesting people for us to both hang with and fall for (read: attempt to bone) in both of these games. When you romance someone in Mass Effect, you take them with all their flaws intact. That means Ashley will always be a xenophobe, Liara will be soft and unexpectedly wounded, Miranda will be uptight and snobbishly administrative, and Jack will be bugfuck crazy in every way possible. However, this does mean that the pre-scripted character conflicts you run into will be that much more difficult if you are fond of the characters. For example, Ashley trying to pop a cap into the loveable Wrex, Miranda and Jack bitchfighting, and Liara whingeing about being alone for two years and trying to break it off in a weak, 'give me love and attention' kind of way, or even the Miranda/Jacob sexual tension are all things you'll run into anyway, but they're more frustrating if you have to be involved directly. 

On one hand, this can be really annoying, because we want our videogame romances to do the right thing, or at least not be as annoying as real people. To be fair, some of these problems really reflect North American society and its common relationship problems, so you could argue that they're more realistic this way. However, given that Mass Effect is set in the and I'm going to break down the romance issues in list form, because, surprisingly, the problems in some individual romances are actually the same issues in others--just with different mustaches. 

Problem 1: Daddy Issues.

Hoo boy. For the record, if you count a grandparent and a 'female' male partner who acted as a father, then Ashley, Liara, Miranda, and Tali all fit the bill. Hell, if you count the 'Mom' issues between Morinth and Samara--which are essentially the same--all this makes for one messed-up cast of babes. The only characters who weren't a) abandoned, b) trying to live up to, or c) trying to get away from Big Bad Dad's history are Kelly Chambers, the most normal and well-adjusted human being EVER, and Jack, who was so badly abused by Cerberus that 'Daddy' might as well be the corporation. Having trouble with your father or father-figure is acceptable and common, but for every single female who wants a piece of MaleShep to showcase this behavior is a little much. 

The men are almost as bad. Jacob definitely has Daddy problems, Thane's are expressed through problems with his son, and Garrus has C-Sec to be a replacement for a Daddy. (Given that his failures at C-Sec are spoken of in the same kind of way as the other stuff, frankly, C-Sec can count as a Dad.) The only one issue-free is Kaidan, and given that he is basically a less-messed-up Jack, you can still sort of count Jump Zero as a father-figure to escape. 

Granted, in their plotlines they all get a chance to resolve this, which is more than I can say for real life. The stories are interesting and rich, but when Daddy issues (and a few Mommy issues) are in every single story line, you start to worry about the characters' mental health and ability to be in a grown up relationship just a little bit. Everyone has something they have to get over, and parents are part of it, but sheesh! 

Problem 2: Previous Relationship Drama. 

This one is a bit better in the sense that it's more representative, sorta. Miranda, Liara and Tali are virgins, Ashley is ambiguous but implies not having had any serious relationships, and Jack and Kelly are adventurous. Samara and Morinth don't count here, because one won't sleep with you and the other will eat your soul if you try to get your funky mind meld on with her. Kaidan and Garrus are not virgins, but are sort of inexperienced with serious relationships, and Thane has a dead wife that he never really gets over. Jacob, like Kelly, is a Normal Human Being, but won't talk about the fact that he and Miranda had a thaaaang a long time ago, or at least, won't talk about it much. I dislike the fact that some of the women are token pure virgins--though admittedly, they all have solid reasons for it--while the guys have a bit more variety than either 'slut' or 'virgin' in their background. And, as I'll get to in a minute, don't you dare fall for or date more than one of these people at a time. As with Problem 1, I blame our romance film culture, especially here in North America, for this particular paradigm and its pernicious proliferation. 

Problem 3: Commitment, Commitment, Commitment. 

Relationships are work. This is no surprise. I have an amazing one myself, but it got there through blood, sweat, and tears. You definitely get the blood, sweat, and tears handed to you in a game, which is fine, but the way that both male and female characters waffle on commitment (hi there, Liara, Jack, and Garrus...) is both compelling and annoying. Still, all of the characters--at a certain point in the romance--pretty much force you to be either VERY SERIOUS about the relationship, or give you the option to go to hell. There is no casual dating for the Shep, apparently. 

Problem 4: Character Inconsistencies with the Rest of Life. 

This one is a minor problem, really, but things like Ashley's horribly forced love of poetry, compared to Garrus' display of a sweet and vulnerable side show that some unexpected character developments work, and others make you stab your eardrums out with a fork. Still, the imperfections that all of us writers have are probably to blame, and if not that, well, you can bet it's probably the editors. Obviously, no game is perfect, and getting over the faults of your zeitgeist is one of the most difficult parts of good sci-fi. A few romantic inconsistencies, such as Jack's adventurous past and her status as a monogamous male-only option, really grate. However, a little sloppy writing or just a loose end can be overlooked, because with all the time and love lavished on characters and crewmates, really, I just can't tear down Bioware's writers for this too much. 

Problem 5: Somewhere, a Writer or Editor was Too Conservative. 

As both a member of the community (someday I will get used to saying that) and a strong supporter of LGBTQ rights, I have a duty to be sort of consistent in saying that suppressing romance options for both sexes is really not fair. As a writer, though, I am terribly disappointed by some of the cuts here because there were some incredibly interesting options that you just don't get. FemSheps get sexytime but only with Asari. Kaidan was supposed to be bi, which would have made him a lot more interesting, and the same thing goes for Miranda; Jack's lack of availability as a female romance option is just puzzling. All of the story richness, extra romance possibilities (both past and present), and little details that sexual diversity bring were also lost in these cuts.

However, Mass Effect 3 does promise to offer male-male romance options, so I, for one, feel a bit of hope. It would be nice if girls could get some non-alien action too--not that Liara isn't a cutie, but by making female options essentially 'alien only', well, there are some unpleasant subtle implications there. 

Also, I don't want to turn this into a feminist fist fight, so I'll just point at the stereotypical female archetypes above, and mention that apart from Kasumi and (in the first game) Tali, you can romance ALL THE THINGS with a vagina but not all the things with (some sort of?) penis. 

Problem 6: Sex Only Happens When We're About to Die. 

Jack offers you casual sex but if you take it, you're fucked for a real relationship with her; Kelly will dance for you and cuddle you, but sex is ambiguous there. You can get a little something blue and tasty from the Consort in the first game, if you act dense. Other than that, the Commander only gets a little dick/pussy when you're both on your way to the end of the world or something really life-threatening. That's a pretty sex-negative attitude, and considering the universe and the many sexual standards and morals that are set up elsewhere for the various cultures, it's downright unrealistic. I don't need to say that threesomes are out of the question, but I will cast a longing look at Dragon Age for its sheer gutsiness, excellent character development, and quiet embrace of far more sexual diversity. Come on, EA/Bioware, good people have sex too. 

Problem 7: If You Cheat/Break Up with Someone, YOU GO TO HELL AND YOU DIE. 

Now we get to the fun part: Drrrrrraaaaamaaaaaa! Drama drama drama jealousy jealousy drama. The designers have gleefully threatened us that if a romance in the first Mass Effect is, uh, interrupted by cheating in the second game, we will pay for it, and painfully. 'Negative consequences', from these people, means 'you are totally fucked'. In the first game, if you try to romance Liara and Ashley at the same time, Ashley throws an epic shit-fit and stomps off, although Liara is all 'I can share, I'm good', which would have been an interesting balance. In Mass Effect 2, oh god...you can date pretty much every girl there, and remember that Miranda romance I mentioned? And the Miranda/Jack catfight? Yeaaah, if you romance one or the other and choose the wrong side in the fight, one of the girls will dump your sorry ass. That's sort of fair, and one can't help but appreciate the way the game forces you to be either a saint or an asshole, because cowards never get the girl in real life, either. However, even though Liara says she is fine with any new romance options you pick after her--if you were romancing her before--and gives you her blessing, Mass Effect 3 may not reflect that same peaceful attitude. And even if she is nice about it...well, good luck getting the same response from Ashley. You're going to need Mordin's help sewing your bits back on, buddy. 

So, why is romance so hard to write well? We all love it in our stories, but sometimes it complicates them unnecessarily. Much as I have reamed out the stories' faults--and I have been preeeetty unrelenting--I have to say that the romances flow naturally and seem to fit the stories. If you don't romance the characters, you lose out on their unique personalities and insights, too. However, it's hard to stray from norms and expectations, pretty damn hard to write for those 'abnormal' (read: statistically less common) relationships, and even harder to make sure that character development is enhanced by the love, as opposed to harmed or stopped by it. A few more battle scars, more richly developed relationship histories, more alt-sex identities, and a bit less family trauma would be welcome changes to the scene.

So! Thanks for sticking with me through a very long two-parter. Remember, Mass Effect 3 comes out soon, and you can bet you'll be hearing about the love resolutions in that opus very soon!

Next time: more info about And the Stars Will Sing, including some very exclusive origin info. And, yes, as time goes on, you'll get to see some self-critiques of work too, including the dreaded romances. So long for now!

Happy Valentine's! Luv in Space, Part 1

Happy belated Valentine's!

Also, Happy Mass Effect 3 demo day! I was going to put this out on time, but I was distracted by dinner home-cooked by Andrey, the Dashing Boyfriend. So, in honour of the biggest breakup/engagement day of the year, I will meditate on romance in the Mass Effect universe: who you get to love, In part 2, we talk pros and cons, and where the game fails and succeeds, and why good romance is so damn hard to write. This might take a while, so don't touch that dial!

(If you don't know what Mass Effect is, do yourself a favour and get it for PC or console RIGHT NOW. I'll wait. Play both of the ones released so far and don't you dare show your face until you're done.)

Welcome back. So! Mass Effect currently has two installments; appropriately, they are entitled Mass Effect 1 and Mass Effect 2. I'm not going to include the extra stories and supplements in too much detail because the most important stuff happens in those two games. I will note that the one prejudice in this review, apart from the usual ones, will be a strong favoritism for Paragon Sheps, because neither I nor Andrey could handle the nastiness and stupidity that a proper Renegade playthrough sometimes requires.

As a reminder, and for those who were silly enough not to play the game, the plot involves the usual human-savior-of-the-galaxy-of-bullheaded-aliens device. However, a richly developed world and excellent design details keep it from feeling like so many retreads of the One Dude Against Everything stereotype. MaleShep's voiceacting and lines tend towards the cowboyish, at times, but even occasionally wobbly voiceacting on the masculine version of the character can't keep the interesting subplots, difficult ethical choices, and rich character development from shining through. That rich character development does fail sometimes, so without further ado, it's time to cut up some hearts and talk about love in the 22nd century AD. Cue the porn music.

Romances in the First Game:

Kaidan Alenko: When EB learned that a male romance option was in the works, they stripped it, fearing fan backlash from boi luv. However, everything but the sex scene is still there in the game code. And let me tell you, when they made this character UN-GAY, they stripped his personality. A dorky hick trying his hardest to be a manly man, even his attractive facial features can't make the hetero romance option for female Shepard (femShep from now on) an interesting person. A shame, really, because the bi orientation and some other cut dialogues would have given him at least a bit more personality than a cardboard promo cutout. They don't even reward players with better combat skills if you drag him out with you. I have yet to meet a single fan who actually liked this boring-ass sidekick.

Ashley Wilson: The human female romance option for MaleShep is really not much better. A tomboy with a prickly personality and a tendency towards bitchy girrrrrrl drama, Ashley's only redeeming features are a half-hearted attempt to develop her character with a love for poetry and her shapely ass. Since shapely asses in gaming are about as unique as 'B' for the Back button, the first is not much of a sale. Still, she sort of fits MaleShep's tendency to be an ignorant cowboy, and she is nothing if not gutsy--even if she has grandpa issues. At least she's less of a slack-jawed, 'hurr hurr, alien boobies' xenophone than Kaidan. She's okay in battle, but both the other romance option and other characters are much better.

Liara T'soni: This adorable blue alien chick has to be one of the cutest romance options in a recent game. As an Asari (not an Atari, though you can play with her console too, hurr hurr) she represents the 'other' box on the orientation check list. In fact, if you as MaleShep try to romance both girls, Liara will be fine with it--it's Ashley who will force you to choose and probably stomp off in a huff. Both MaleShep and FemShep can romance her, and it's a good thing. Shy, geeky, scholarly, but good with a Singularity, Liara is not only a fine lookin' gal with nicer booty than Ashley and a softer personality, she's an excellent combat choice. Her sex scene is also marginally better than Ashley's, though they're mostly identical.

The first game also forces you to sacrifice either Ashley or Kaidan and there's no way of getting out of it. Her bitchiness made Ashley the first to get it in the neck, but after one or two playthroughs more, it was boring, ignorant Kaidan that we voted off the island, every time.

The game ends with the usual promises of danger and suggestions of a happy ending, and at some point in there, Shep gets some tail. All seems well until...Mass Effect 2!

Mass Effect 2: The Search for More Luvz


Bioware, the company that developed Mass Effect, got a fair bit of flack for its lack of options in the first game. The second game sought to remedy that by letting you romance ALL THE THINGS, to alter a quote from the delightful Hyperbole and a Half. That said, with a better plot, more complex characters, and a large increase in the size and complexity of the universe, even the most annoying characters are rendered tolerable.
Romance options from the first game, surprisingly, didn't really carry over in plot, although even failing to sleep with your true love won't keep them from being counted as your one and only (assuming you imported a save game). If you see Ashley/Kaidan, whichever of them you were forced to let survive, they will be snotty because you're working for The Bad Guys. If you romanced one of them, they will still be snotty, but you'll get an apology note later. If you didn't sleep with them, well, no apology for you!
Liara's character will be talked about in some detail, because fans loved her so much that a major download providing both plot advancement and 'special time' with her was added to the otherwise lackluster short quest in-game.
As for the new faces in town, going in order of appearance is probably easiest. We'll talk about what happens if you try to have your cake and eat it too by cheating on your old significant other with the new peeps in a few minutes, but first, let's look at your new honeys.

Jacob Taylor: A big, attractive black man who's got the personality of a Labrador Retriever. He's about as smart, from outward appearances, but he's a Nobel Laureate compared to Kaidan. Still, he's sweet-natured, good in combat, and actually fun to talk to. If you want a quiet, pleasant male romance option, well, your FemShep is in luck. A lot of fans disliked or just didn't care about Jacob, but there's no getting around the fact that he's a pretty nice guy, and easy enough on the eyes. His personal story is pretty neat, too.

Miranda Lawson: This smokin' hot Aussie is the new Ashley, but Ashley 2.0 is a lot smarter and easier to put up with, even in spite of daddy issues (which, to be fair, is something even Liara suffers from, even though all Asari are female). Unfortunately, she is MaleShep only. Her faults do include a bitchy streak. She's somewhat witty, knows how to handle a gun, and has some talent with biotics, though she's no Asari...or Jack. We'll talk about Jack in a few minutes...

Garrus Vakarian: I would be lying if I said this wasn't one of my favorite characters and probably my romance choice. This fan favorite from the previous game is a tall, handsome (...you know, for a raptor) Turian who gets all scarred up about ten minutes after you meet him. He's got a few of Batman's traits without the psychological trauma, and the development from an earnest young officer to a vigilante in the slums of Omega is actually well-portrayed. The only disdvantage to romancing him is the difficulty in making Turian and human physiology, uh, compatible. The adorable and annoying Mordin, the hilarious scientist, warns FemShep that 'chafing' is a possible side effect and that she shouldn't consume any Turian fluids due to possible allergic reactions. Uhhh...yeah, that sort of takes the fun out of kissing, and god help you if you go bareback. At least he's a gentleman and witty, as well as an amazing shot. However, there are no bromance options for MaleShep, so the gents are once again left out.

Tali Zorah Vas Neema (later Vas Normandy): Everyone's favorite Unseen Babe from the first game shows up as a naive (but no longer jailbait) new crewmember and romance option. This was another fan request, and I have to admit, Tali is pretty darn cute. She's smart, an excellent shot and useful engineer, and she's brave: basically, a sexy Muslim alien Darth Vader. That works better than it sounds, I promise. You don't get to see her face, though, which had a lot of the same fans who wanted her in this one crying out with the rage of a thousand wilted boners. Still, she's cute and really sweet-natured, and MaleShep could do a lot worse...

Jack: ...Jack...is...Jack. A psychotic badgirrrrrrl with mad control of the Force--I mean, biotics, this tattoo-covered scantily-clad bald chick is everything your mother warned you about at the same time. That sounds kind of sexy until you add serious childhood trauma, a foul mouth, emotional issues, constant hostility, dozens of murders, and, oh yeah, the ability to kill you if you left up the toilet seat again. A lot of fans love her, but this (surprisingly) male-only romance option was just too psycho for both my tastes and Andrey's. Although her character is a reference to the main protagonist in Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, she is nothing like old Jean Valjean. Don't make eye-contact and don't try to be nice; letting her whine at you leads to romance or nothin'. This girl does not take to being friendzoned. Ever. Even after The Big Fight, you will be greeted with a big old 'FUCK OFF' if you end up in her area of the ship.

Thane Krios: This zen assassin with a fatal disease and a heart of gold is an interesting character, but a better buddy than a romance option. He's fascinating to talk to, though his character development is forced. He does give some neat information about other worlds in the Mass Effect universe, though. However, loving him--FemShep has this dubious privilege--involves a lot of talking about his dead wife, his disobedient son, and the fact that you can't replace her or live up to how lovely she was. I'll pass.

Liara T'soni: Liara is only really a romance option if you romanced her in the first game. In the second, she shows up as a more vicious, pale, anxious version of herself, trying to track down The Shadow Broker for revenge. She was disappointing at best on first appearance, and doesn't seem to want to deal with Shepherd when he/she comes to say hello, even if she loved the character before. She whines about how long ago it was and how hurt she was, and it's more annoying than you'd think. (You'd think she'd clue into your resurrection, even though she saved your sorry, dead, space-freezerburned ass from the old exploded Normandy, whether or not you were seeing each other.)
Either way, talk about a loyal friend. However, the download--which still allows you to hang out with her and take down a corrupt politico--shows her developing a case of badassery that seems forced and incongruous. Still, she gets her sense of humour back, and if you are smart enough to see through her whining and womanese, you can get her to chill out and take you back. Invite her back to the Normandy, and sexytimes will likely commence. Even if you actually ditched her, you can talk about your new romance and she will be universally very accepting of the new partner. However, Bioware warned players that they would, in effect, get their asses beat if they ditched a lover from ME1 for a new flame in ME2, so we'll see how sincere she is about no hard feelings in ME3.

There are also some bonus options who, since you can't actually have sex with them, don't count against your romance from the first game. If you want the fun without the sad shot of your ex's picture facedown on your desk (fixable, if you break up with your fling before going through the Omega 4 relay), you can try one of these ladies. As a bonus, they're romanceable by both MaleShep and FemShep.

Kelly Chambers: A cute, sweet, efficient secretary who likes to flirt, is warm and caring, and will do a sexy dance in an Asari stripper suit at the end of the game if you play your cards right. A cutie, and your best option.

Samara: This paladin has a heartbreaking backstory, and won't actually put out when you fall in love, because her code forbids a partner and commitment. Shame, really, because this cougar is an interesting lady to talk to and quite pretty. However, there are some issues there, partly related to her daughter, Morinth.

Morinth: A succubus from outer space with goth affectations, a taste for danger, and a need to kill and hurt that makes even Jack look borderline cuddly. Kind of. Well, not really, but Jack has a conscience somewhere. Morinth isn't actually very well-developed, considering all the hype about how badassed she is, and as a 'bonus', if your Renegade Shep romances her after killing her mother (this is what you have to do), she will suck your soul out and you die. Bummer.

Well, that's the cast...in Part 2, we'll talk about some obvious and less obvious problems, try to make a few guesses at what will blow up in Mass Effect 3, and explain why both dating and breaking up are really hard to do.

See you tomorrow!