12/31/11

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (Review)

Gary Oldman got his scopes on.

Director Tomas Alfredson was facing the doubly daunting task of following up his absolutely stunning Let the Right One In with a treacherous adaptation of John le Carre's sprawling Cold War thriller, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. A seven part miniseries had already proven an inadequate amount of screen time to devote to le Carre's novel, what chance did two and a half hours have?

Very little, it turns out. Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is a film that blatantly displays the craft and ability of everyone involved. Alfredson's directing is sharp and focused, leaving no detail untouched. He clearly understands that the world of cold war espionage was one of telling glances and unvoiced suspicions. There will likely not be a better performance by a cast as a whole for quite some time; understandable, given the talent on hand. The production design by Maria Djurkovi and art direction by Tom Brown and Zsuzsa Kismarty-Lechner provide a refreshingly authentic depiction of the period, with added emphasis on the word "refreshingly" when compared to the  CG backdrops of X-Men: First Class and the claustrophobic sets of Mad Men.


Despite every aspect of the film working near-perfectly, the breadth and complexity of the story is ill-suited for a trip to the multiplex. The film tries its utmost, but by the end, the amount of key plot points exposed by assumptions and whispers becomes slightly overwhelming and the emotional impact of the climax is completely undercut by a lack of understanding. It is certainly a movie that begs for repeat viewings, each one of which will require deliberate scrutiny of every line of dialogue and every telling glance.

Also, in what wasn't much of a contest, it has the best trailer of the year.


Even if it does completely steal the title design from Inception.



12/29/11

The 1st Annual Salties (Best Rap Album Candidates)

Disclaimer: By no means is this list an exhaustive one; the albums contained herein merely represent Ultimate's Salt subjective opinion of what went hardest in 2011. Those who take issue with our picks would do well to consult the second line of Dr. Dre's hook on the seminal "Bitches Ain't Shit." That is all. Happy reading.

Tyler, The Creator

Goblin

XL :: 2011

Odd future helmsman Tyler, The Creator gets the nod for latest effort Goblin if for no other reason than his being the begetter of 2011’s burgeoning DIY hip-hop movement.

It’s been fascinating to watch this crew rise from obscurity to become the biggest thing in (underground?) hip-hop since now defunct Def Jux came onto the scene. But what do you call their brand of rap? Is it Backpack? Emo? Horror Core? It’s pretty much impossible to categorize Odd Future, but their music is decidedly dark. Not quite so dark as the stuff of Brotha Lynch, but nonetheless dismal enough to deter any casual pop music fan.

Thematically, Tyler is out there, but to call his raps vitriolic and leave it at that is a woefully insufficient classification. Gritty introspection is Tyler’s bread and butter. Goblin is deeply personal, and not exactly an “easy listen,” but a worthwhile one if you have the fortitude.

The dirge-like “Yonkers,” which sees Tyler musing on suicide, among other things, can only be described as grim. While indifference and withdrawal are writ large on standout ‘therapy session’ set “Nightmare” as Tyler leers, “My only problem is death/ Fuck heaven, I ain’t showing no religion/ respect.” Save a for a track or two, the bouncy “Analog" namely, the rest of the album plays out in similarly bleak fashion. Basically, the kid’s got issues, or so he’d like us to believe, at least.

Regardless of the veracity of his lyrical content, Tyler does possess an uncanny ability to communicate a sense of foreboding alienation on every track. You will feel a little dejected after hearing the album.

That said, this record’s extremely personal nature might put off some listeners at first listen. Tyler’s album persona is a wreck, but there’s something endearing and familiar about his anguish that seems to beckon repeat plays. Then again, it’s also quite possible that I’m just a misanthropic weirdo who likes scary music.




Jay-Z and Kanye West

Watch The Throne

Def Jam :: 2011

As much as I’d like to leave Jay and Kanye’s shameless tribute to black excellence off Ultimate Salt’s best of the year list, I can’t bring myself to. Believe, I wanted so badly to hate this release. Then I heard Lex Luger’s tight production on H.A.M. and, as is so often the case when I get around to heaping scorn on an album that is months away from completion, had to eat a word sandwich.

It’s not a release without flaws by any means (see: “That’s my bitch,” or don’t), but on the whole the duo churn out a pretty interesting record, especially given the haste with which is was put together. Then again, this is Kanye and Jay we’re talking about.

Not surprisingly, there’s a fair amount of esoteric name-brand dropping that goes on, and enough braggadocio about having lots of coin to sustain roughly seven Kanye records (nevermind that many of their listeners can barely pay the rent when it’s due) but these guys also take time to speak on real shit, which is kind of endearing and adorable.

On “No Church in the Wild," Jay tackles some pretty serious moral quandaries, pondering the Euthyphro dilemma in song as only he can, but all the lofty lyricism goes to waste here, as the instrumental goes way too hard for anyone to give two shits about the song's lyrical content. The duo’s lamentation of black or black crime on the wistful “Murder to Excellence” is about as deep as these guys delve into anything that could be construed as politically driven, though they seem earnest enough.

It's “Made in America,” the duo’s ode to the come up that gets my nod for best sleeper pick in spite of its egregiously trite chorus, but ultimately it is the triumphant sound of “Otis” that defines the album's bent toward brazen self-love, and keeps us coming back for repeat listens.




Main Attrakionz

808s & Dark Grapes II

Mishka :: 2011

Take one part ambient mood music, add two parts vocal vehemence a la Bone Thugs N Harmony, somehow get all three hopped up enough on weed and liquor to partake in some depraved orgy a la Eyes Wide Shut, tamper with the condom, wait approximately nine months, and—voila—you’ve got cuddly, (not to mention remarkably well-adjusted), avant-garde hip hop group Main Attrakionz!

The group’s latest album 808s and Dark Grapes II is basically a master class in DIY hip-hop done right (move over Odd Future). A word of warning: hipster kids are going to eat this shit up, and give you cause to hate it very soon.

The production on 808s, which is unlike anything I’ve ever heard on a hip-hop record, can only be described as gorgeous, pitting lush, ambient sound beds against heavy kicks and crisp snares (see: “Chuch”).

Lyrically, rapper/producer Squadda Bambino and rapper MondreMAN sound pretty pedestrian, and probably won’t be winning any rap battles in the foreseeable future. In fact, the album is laden with the same thematic fluff you’d find on any other rap release this year. That is to say that Main Attrakionz, like so many of its rap cohorts, is very fond of blowing herb and getting bitches, not to mention hell bent on coming up. These tropes are hip-hop mainstays at this point.

But it would be wrong to write these guys off on account of their occasionally succumbing to the trite trappings of their milieu, as they are at times unexpectedly thoughtful and introspective. What’s more, in a truly refreshing rap scenario the likes of which I’ve yet to see in a while now, neither rapper tries to upstage the other on this album. The result is an effort that is surprisingly cohesive, and a sound (who knew ambient music and snares meshed so well?) that is totally their own.




Mr. Muthafuckin’ eXquire

Lost in Translation

Mishka :: 2011

Saltie frontrunner Mr. Muthafuckin’ eXquire’s 2011 release Lost in Translation marks the welcome return of the RZA pioneered boom bap sound that put Shaolin land on the map but with a bent toward gritty introspection. As a point of reference, think Wu Tang’s production meets Biggie’s flow meets MF Doom’s unabashed alcoholism.

This album’s content is as antithetical to commercial hip-hop dross as you’ve heard in a while; you won’t hear any boasts of smoking “rapper weed” on this release. Rather, eXquire raps mostly about drinking too much and feeling hopeless, or what I like to call “real shit.”

Don’t get me wrong, I love trite boasts as much as the next guy (Watch The Throne is one my favorite releases this year, mind you), but regrettably, at the end of the day I have too few champagne problems to really sympathize with the likes of Kanye And Jay.

Do I really care that Kanye got so fucked up on French Champagne that he’s constrained to wearing expensive sunglasses all day lest his wittle eyeballs bother him? Not the least bit. Curse “No Church in the Wild” for going so hard. Kanye and Jay are about as real to me as the tooth fairy. In other words, their reality is not my own. Mr. Muthafuckin’ eXquire is, on the other hand, a very relatable guy with tangible problems that are hard not to sympathize with as an underemployed and generally sad person.

On Lost in Translation, you get the feeling that whenever eXquire isn’t eating bad food, he’s medicating with Georgi and dirt weed; endearing stuff when you’re as resigned to despondency as we are at Ultimate Salt. On the whole, a very solid, albeit murky, release.




Danny Brown

XXX

Fool’s Gold :: 2011

Danny Brown is a rapper from Detroit, a city that has become synonymous with urban decay and crime, and a place that is writ large on Brown’s homage to addiction, excess, and general hopelessness, XXX.

The production on XXX, which veers between sounding something like dub step and hip-hop, is decidedly dark and gritty, with beats from the likes of Frank Dukes, Skywlkr, and Brandun Deshay, among others, and is the perfect backdrop for Brown’s screechy vocal style.

With that said, some listeners might stumble on Brown dissonant delivery, but the toil is almost always worth the spoil, as Brown’s storytelling pays dividends to those who are willing to listen.

Stomach his harsh style and you’ll be treated to copious amounts of clever wordplay that rivals that of anybody in rap music right now (insert favorite rapper here) amid some pretty compelling, albeit bleak, yarns of life in the D.

Whether he’s musing on dying like a rockstar, leering, “I got that Kurt Cobain type of mind frame, feeling like Keith Moon’s ‘shrooms in my dressing room,” or pilfering copper and wiring from vacant buildings to make rent, Brown’s words never fail to transport you to the places of which he sings, for better or worse.

Being that he is from an ailing Detroit, it comes as no surprise that songs that delve into drugs and despair weigh so heavily on this album. Fans of one-time Definitive Jux stalwart Cannibal Ox will find familiar footing in its subject matter, but it's not for everyone. Nevertheless, XXX is a standout record, and one that portends good things to come for Brown and hip hop music.




Honorable Mentions

Elzhi, Elmatic (self-released)

Nas' Illmatic with a Motor City twist a la former Slum Village member Elzhi? F'real? Yes, please.

Kendrick Lamar, Section.80 (Top Dawg Ent.)

Oft mired in sanctimony, socially conscious, message driven hip hop is back without the pretense. Thanks for doing that, Kendrick.

Childish Gambino, Camp (Glassnote)

Insecurity and self-deprecation rule on Donald Glover's highly relatable ode to the travails of fame and young manhood.

Curren$y, Weekend at Burnie's (Warner Bros.)

Weed rap frivolity at its best. Curren$y looks to be on roll with this release. Jet life.

Phonte, Charity Starts at Home (Foreign Exchange)

Heart felt, neo-soul flecked hip hop for the backpacker in all of us. LB's better half (no disrespect to Pooh) couldn't choke if he tried.

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (Review)

David Fincher's adaptation of the immensely popular novel by Swedish journalist Stieg Larsson forces the viewer to confront every bit of the book's gruesome depictions of humanity, just as the 2009 Swedish film adaptation did. Fincher's film is unique in that it raises a question that neither of the previous two iterations of this source material had proffered - WHY THE FUCK IS EVERYONE SPEAKING ENGLISH?



Okay, we get it. Daniel Craig is getting his nerd on, (but he's a cool nerd - look how he dangles his glasses off his chin when he's not wearing them) and is running a newspaper in Sweden. His name is Mikael Blomkvist. Why does he sound like James Bond?

I understand not wanting to change the source material, but the filmmakers could at least have made him an English ex-patriot to give a narratively acceptable reason for his lack of a Swedish accent. That simple change would even explain why everyone else in the movie has to speak English to him, a feat for which they manage to affect Swedish accents.

But no. Here is an American movie, filled largely with English-speaking actors, (save for the awesome, but woefully miscast Stellen Sarsgard), inexplicably set in Sweden, with everyone speaking English. Suspension of disbelief only goes so far, and if Bryan Singer's otherwise excellent Valkyrie couldn't get away with this, I'm not letting The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo off the hook.

Valkyrie was actually more culturally accurate, because all Pirate Nazis speak English with American accents.

It is a pointless exercise in Hollywood cash-grabbery. It's technically competent, and while it struggles to fit the novel's enormous levels of exposition into its 158 minute running time, it is occasionally quite good. Unfortunately, there is already a movie called The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo  that is technically competent, which struggles to fit the novel's enormous levels of exposition into its 152 minute running time, and is occasionally quite good. And every speaks freaking Swedish in it.



Because the titular character (Rooney Mara - surely in a star-making turn) is largely irrelevant to the plot until more than halfway through the story (my sole complaint about Larsson's novel), the majority of the film is divided between plot-advancement and character building. By the time the two protagonists meet, one's character has been brutally examined, and the other is James Bond in a sweater.

Fincher's movie isn't bad, when examined in a vacuum. But it's redeeming qualities are crippled by the redundancy of the entire operation.

6.5/10

Sidenotes:

-In an attempt to distance Daniel Craig from the James Bond franchise, the film has the best title sequence in the James Bond franchise.

-I understand that the novel and Swedish film's name is actually Män som hatar kvinnor, which translates to Men Who Hate Women, but that is a stupid name, and I prefer the much less literal, more enticing The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

12/28/11

Splinter Cell: Convition (Belated Review)

The Splinter Cell franchise has a long history of excellence. At it's best (2005's Chaos Theory) it has set the bar for the stealth game genre. At it's worst, (Chaos Theory's follow-up, Double Agent) it's still a damn good stealth game. All the games in the series have been built on a solid foundation of stealth gameplay that goes a little something like this: Hide in shadows, silently take out ambiguously foreign bad guys, don't be seen.

Ubisoft Montreal decided that the fifth installment in the story of super-spy Sam Fisher would be a good time to change up the formula that had brought them such great accolades. What could have been a recipe for disaster turned out to be a recipe for some sort of delicious action/stealh soufflé.


Also, it has a fantastically well done trailer.

As you might have gleaned from the main character's decision to not affix a silencer to his rather large rifle in the above trailer, Splinter Cell: Conviction does away with some pretty key parts of the past games' formula; notably "don't be seen" and "silently." While the game still wholeheartedly encourages stealth, the penalties for being detected have been severely lessened. Drawing on heavy inspiration from the Bourne trilogy, Ubisoft Montreal has turned Sam Fisher from a methodical, patient ninja master to a blindly driven, furiously paced takedown machine. The game's story, before delving into relentlessly over-the-top Tom Clancy gobbldigook, actually provides a perfect narrative explanation for Fisher's newfound aggression; a fact that comes as something of a surprise for a series that has repeatedly supplanted a plot with militaristic-techno-jargon. 

In order to imbue the player with the brutality and efficiency displayed by Matt Damon's Jason Bourne, the game plays host to a bevy of new features. While the new cover mechanic is definitely worth mentioning, the "mark and execute" feature is clearly the game's centerpiece. It allows the player to silently tag multiple enemies before taking them all down with a single button press, and is responsible for some of the coolest moments in the game. Initially, it may seem cheap, but when you take down a room of eight guards in two seconds, all complaints will be overpowered either by amorous feelings of badassery, or by the volume at which you are telling the nearest person to you what a badass you are.

Complimenting the single player campaign are a single player challenge mode and a co-operative mode that may be the best any game has to offer; a fact that should come as no surprise to anyone who played through Chaos Theory's outstanding co-op campaign. It also really must be noted that end of the co-op campaign, to refrain from spoilers, is absolutely perfect and will through players for a loop and a half.

While not without the same frustrations that plague any trial and error based game, Splinter Cell: Conviction is the definitive example of how to revive a franchise bordering on stagnation. Nearly all of the chances taken pay off, and make this one of the most innovative games of the generation.

Although I will always wonder what would have happened if the game's initial version hadn't been scratched...
I just want to be able to flip a table!!! 


9/10

12/23/11

Action Bronson & Static Selektah "Cirque du Soleil" Video

With a single frame, Action Bronson launches himself into the heart of hipsters everywhere.

Look at this fucking rapper.

Check out the video for "Cirque du Soleil" off Bronson and beatman Static Selektah's awesome collabo, Well Done.

The video does an excellent job of juxtaposing... something. It really doesn't work too well with the song, but it's well made and the song is dope, even if it's one of the weaker ones on the album.

So check it. And cop the album at your local retailer. Or if you're some kind of stooge who likes DRM protected music, I guess you could pull that shit out tha air on itunes or amazon.


12/22/11

Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol (Review)

Expectations can be a dangerous thing. As a rule, it's generally good to keep them as low as possible when approaching a new experience. It's something akin to starting a painting with a blank canvas; and can be especially important when a medium has a scant two hours to make an impression on the viewer. Unfortunately, when it comes to film, low expectations don't sell tickets (barring the obvious exception of Michael Bay movies). It is the job of the Hollywood hype machine to inflate expectations past the tipping point of a ticket sale.

Speaking of which... Have a trailer:


No expectation inflation was needed for my viewing of Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol. The Mission: Impossible series has been one of my absolute favorites since I was a young lad blissfully developing a thumb callous from the rewind button on my VHS player, watching 1996's Mission: Impossible over and over.

When Mission: Impossible II was released, I had no idea that John Woo was the best action director to ever walk the earth. I was twelve. Forgive me. I now understand why the overbearing melodrama somehow blended so perfectly with the gloriously absurd action sequences. Even though the sequel began the series' decent from intelligent, old-school spy thriller to mindless blockbuster action, it holds a very special place in my heart.

The third entry in the series was so brutally efficient that it was easy to overlook that it lacked the first film's intrigue and the second's style. Despite this, it remains the best film in the series sheerly due to it's impenetrable solidity; while not particularly memorable, it lacks any noteworthy flaws, and is so savagely paced that it would be hard to notice any flaws or remember much of anything.

When advanced reviews proclaimed that the numeral-eschewing fourth film in the series, Ghost Protocol, was the best of the lot, I could not help but raise my excitement level. Compounding the excitement of brand-recognition (shout out to the state of modern cinema) was the excitement of seeing if Brad Bird's streak of perfection in animated film could be carried into live action. And none of that is to mention the Burj Khalifa-scaling escapades depicted in every bit of the movie's marketing. Expectations were at an all-time high.

As usual, Futurama is able to capture my sentiments better than my own mind.


I will be spamming Brad Bird's twitter with this video for the next couple of months.

Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol is not bad. Not by any means. It contains some stunning action choreography, incredible locales, and enough techno-porn to keep viewers warm until the inevitable next entry in the series. But it is disappointing. It is also, easily, the worst film in the series and contains perhaps the most mind-boggling creative oversight since Steven Spielberg cast Kate Capshaw in Temple of Doom. Stick with me though, because I promise it's not all hate.

The pace of the film is apparent from the onset, as a sequence of helicopter shots race across the skyline of an Eastern European-looking city that some very ugly typeface informs us is Budapest. Suddenly, someone bursts out of a rooftop doorway, closely followed by armed goons who are quickly dispatched as their target leaps off the roof and, in one of the best shots of the year, shoots his pursuers while plummeting toward the ground. His fall is broken by a nifty backpack airbag type gadget, and he promptly gets up and begins to walk away, but is gunned down by a gorgeous woman that his phone, seconds late, informs him is an assassin.

All of that happens in about 30 seconds. And none of it makes any sense to the viewer. Aside from the aforementioned beautiful rooftop leap shot, the sequence is entirely pointless. The excuse could be made that the scene exists to hook the viewer; to let the audience know that something is afoot. The problem is, the audience already knows something is afoot. They are presently watching a movie called Mission: Impossible. Things tend to be afoot in films of this nature.

This counts as "afoot," right?

The film then completely switches gears and cuts to a prison which the same very ugly typeface (seriously, it's like Arial Narrow or something) informs us is in Moscow. An Impossible Mission Force (an acronym I was always amazed this series got away with) team is breaking series protagonist Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) out of a Russian prison. Ethan stubbornly insists on freeing another inmate for absolutely no narratively acceptable reason, and the whole crew escapes while a horrendously ugly title sequence plays a grossly misguided homage to the preview-clip title sequence of the original series. Aside from just being an ugly title sequence, the preview-of-whats-to-come is a great way to ruin dramatic irony for the rest of a movie. It destroys the dramatic irony in much the same way the number of parenthetical statements destroys the flow of this paragraph.

Thankfully it's over quickly, and the movie picks up. The opening sequence is explained, which momentarily helps ease the inelegance of its abruptness. Unfortunately, it becomes glaringly clear that the filmmakers were so desperate to both start with a bang and to get Tom Cruise's face onto the screen that they confined an essential bit of exposition to an awkward flashback and the previously discussed opening scene. A better route would have been to take a deep breath, tell the backstory in its entirety at the start of the film, let the tension build around why the dude who's on all the posters hasn't shown up for 15 minutes, then dramatically reveal Hunt when he's actually needed. As it stands, it works, but its incredibly clumsy, lazy and indicative of the attention spans at which the film is aimed.

Okay. Still with me? I know that seems like a lot of hate for 15 minutes of movie, but it was pretty bad way to start. Luckily, the film immediately recovers from its unfortunate beginning and starts to look something like a damn good spy-actioner. It turns out that IMF had to break Hunt out of prison because he was the only person who could... yadda yadda yadda. Not important. What is important: Nuclear weapons. Russians. Mystery bad guy. Tom Cruise scowling and not explaining why he was in a Russian prison to begin with.

So after a cool-gadget-laden infiltration scene and a painfully fake-looking explosion (see above), shit gets real, and Hunt and his team are off to Dubai. The focal point of the second act is Burj Khalifa, the world's tallest building, and the insane acrobatics that such a location inspires in secret agents.

Sidenote: It's a good thing Mission: Impossible II already established Ethan Hunt as the world's best free-climber.

In stark contrast to the film's opening chapter, the second act is near perfect. It expertly weaves amazingly staged action set pieces with some classic Mission: Impossible role-switching hijinks, all of which culminate in a wonderfully executed chase scene through a sandstorm.

Enough cannot be said about the second act. It is blockbuster cinema at its absolute finest and it leaves you wondering how the movie can possibly top itself in the third act. Unfortunately, the movie is apparently wondering this too, because the third act nose dives right back into the crap of the first 15 minutes.

And therein lies the Kate Capshaw-sized misstep. Most movies, even comedies and musicals, rely on an escalation of tension and consequences throughout the entire story up until the breaking point; the climax. Especially in an action-thriller like this, both the tension and the consequences should be at their absolute peak in the third act. Regardless of how well-edited, choreographed and paced the climax might be, if Act 2 is set in the world's tallest building, the finale cannot, under absolutely any circumstances, take place in the electrical maintenance shed of a state-run TV station in Mumbai. The subconscious effect of the immensely underwhelming setting completely undermines any tension and sense of escalation.

In simple terms: You can't start big and end small.

And this is, like, as big as it gets.
It almost seems unfair to judge Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol as a whole. The jarring disparities in quality between its three acts make it feel as if it were three separate movies. It's like a delicious pulled pork sandwich on moldy sourdough; the middle is the only thing worth the money. Throw in some useless characters, a few incredibly corny lines and an atrociously bad post-game wrap up style ending, and you have the best Michael Bay movie ever made. Unfortunately, this isn't a Michael Bay movie. This is a Brad Bird movie, and he has set his own bar a bit too high for his live-action debut.

Ah, the curse of great expectations.


5.5/10

12/19/11

The 1st Annual Salties (Best Game Candidates)

We're starting things off here at Ultimate Salt with the first annual Salty awards. Now, we fully understand the wariness that may be incurred by some random dudes giving out awards with absolutely no precedent set for their tastes, credibility, or reputability; but we feel that this will be the best first step toward setting that precedent.

With that, I give you our Game of the Year Candidates.



Deus Ex: Human Revolution (PS3/360/PC)



In a world where Indiana Jones and John McClane can be brought back from the dead after more than a decade, eight years seems an inadequately short amount of time to necessitate the tag of "revival" on any franchise. But eight years is, like, forever in video game time. That said, Eidos Montreal's "revival" of the Deus Ex franchise was a tricky one.

Deus Ex, (one of the pillars of modern gaming) and its under-appreciated sequel Invisible War, cast a long shadow. Luckily, Human Revolution lives in the shadows. With a silenced pistol. And retractable blades in its arms ready to stab you in the face.

Or in the neck. Wherever, really.

That is, if that's how you want to play. The game is all about choice, and it does an excellent job of letting players answer the game's myriad of societal quandaries however they choose. While there are some stumbles along the way, most notably the narrative urgency taking a backseat to the aforementioned choice; Deus Ex: Human Revolution is an incredible game that deserves every one of the hundred-odd hours that will be put into its replaying.

Portal 2 (PS3/360/PC)



Portal was a special game. What could have been a highly conceptual, but otherwise bland puzzle game was brought vividly to life by a tremendous vocal performance by Ellen McLain and some of the decade's best writing in any medium, courtesy of Eric Wolpaw and Chet Faliszek. Following it up was a daunting task, but Valve stuck to the tried and true sequel formula of: MORE.

Portal 2 is bigger, longer, and, in many respects, better than its predecessor. Instead of featuring the best video game vocal performance of the year, it features the three best video game vocal performances of the year, with Messieurs Steven Merchant and J.K. Simmons joining Ms. McLain in the cast.  Instead of two writers, they got three, with the original game's duo becoming a trio with the addition of Jay Pinkerton.

(Although no amount of writers could top Jonathon Coulton's theme song from Portal.)



The gameplay in Portal 2 is expanded from what the first game offered, adding co-operative play (worth the game's price tag alone) and expanded contraptions and puzzle mechanics. Portal 2's singular misstep is that, in an effort to streamline the experience, concessions to player freedom were made. While the puzzles can still be tricky and every one of them is wildly creative, there is no getting around the fact that they have been made easier and that alternative solutions have been eliminated. The game is still an absolute blast, and anything that induces this much laughter automatically gets a nod for a Salty.


Uncharted 3: Drake's Deception (PS3)



By now, you're surely noticing a trend. There be sequels up ins. Video games are unique as a medium in that, thanks to advances in technology and community feedback, sequels regularly outshine their originators. A perfect example is Naughty Dog's Uncharted series. The first game, Uncharted: Drake's Fortune, was an excellent game, but due to its being Naughty Dog's first foray into a game of its kind, it was largely imperfect. Through refining and extrapolating the first game's core concepts, they were able to release the best game of the current console generation with Uncharted 2: Among Thieves. Now they get to follow that up. Sequels, baby!

Just to get it out of the way, it should be noted that with the release of Uncarted 3, the crown of "Best Game of the Console Generation" still rests comfortably on the head of Uncharted 2. That said: WOW. Drake's Deception is unbelievably good, and it is a testament to Among Thieves that the third installment is unable usurp the throne. The animation, the writing, the action, the explosions, the crumbling buildings... I don't even know where to start. The single player campaign is a stunning achievement in narrative gaming. As I have no desire to be shot in the back of the head by 12-year-olds, the multiplayer is of little consequence to me, but is technically quite proficient. It just saddens me to think of the development hours that went into it that could have been spent making the single player even more grand.


Long story short: Play this game. Or did you not see the trailer above? You get to do the stuff in it!

Minecraft (PC)



Luckily for Minecraft, there is no statute of limitations concerning a game's gestation period and its subsequent nomination for The Salties. Publicly available in alpha and beta versions since 2009, Markus Perrson's (who is clearly either a robot or alien posing as a human under a false name that translates to "Mark Person") Minecraft is the video game world's greatest indie success story. Built on an incredibly simple premise and sporting a pixel count that makes Pong look sexy, Minecraft's homebrewed aesthetic might fool passerbys into thinking it's nothing special.

But it is exactly that. Minecraft is a special game; the likes of which we would be lucky to see again soon. Remember how cool Legos used to be before they sold out? Minecraft takes the principle of block-based construction into the digital realm. It's like Legos, if you had to mine for every brick yourself, and then use those bricks to build defenses against ghastly creatures that attack you as soon as night falls. It sounds slightly tedious, and it certainly can be, but it captures the excitement of exploration and creation in a way that no other open world game has before.

Plus: You can build a giant digital reproduction of you genitals, which is hugely appealing to a certain subset of the internet community.

FIFA 12 (PS3/360/Other platforms but who even plays sports games on those)

Yes. A sports game. Right there, next to regular games, on a year's best list. Deal with it. The criteria for appraising sports games is slightly different than those by which other games are judged. The aim of a sports game is not necessarily to provide a sweeping narrative or an immersive experience. They are intended, with the exception of arcade sports titles, to be as accurate a replication as possible of their sport in a digital medium. By that criterion, FIFA 12 fits right into any year's best list because of one key word: best.

FIFA 12 is the best facsimile of football/soccer ever seen in a video game. It might even be the most accurate replica of any sport in a game, ever. The NBA 2k series put up a reasonable case for that distinction with this year's 2k12, but there are still too many idiosyncrasies that pull the player out of the game for it to properly challenge FIFA 12. It took EA Sports the better part of a console generation, but they finally figured out how to make dribbling a legitimate offensive weapon, and while that took hampering players' defensive capabilities, it is a more than welcome trade.


You're going to want to go ahead an mute this video before you play it.


In FIFA 12, games finally flow and build like an actual match. Defenders are forced to back off, giving good dribblers space, lest they be embarrassed by a quick skirt to the side. With the ability to blindly charge attacking players by mashing down on the pressure button taken away, the rhythm of games is preserved and what unfolds actually ends up looking like a game of professional football. Built on top of the core gameplay are an insane amount of modes and options that could keep players busy for years to come.

Honorable Mentions


The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim (PS3/360/PC)
I liked it better when it was called Oblivion, which I liked better when it was called Morrowind. It's a great game, there just isn't enough evolution in this series to earn a Salty nod.

Batman: Arkham City (PS3/360/PC)
It's telling that everyone mistakenly calls this game Arkham Asylum, the name of its predecessor. It looks nearly identical. Tons of fun, with a great combat system, but it loses a lot of its luster if the shine from the fan service isn't blinding you.

Mass Effect 2 (PS3/360/PC)
Talk about getting slept on. Released in January for some reason, it just couldn't survive long enough in the collective unconscious of everyone who called it Game of the Year upon it's release. Honestly though, it just wasn't my thing.

NBA 2k12 (PS3/360)
The best basketball game ever made. The problem? It had the previous best basketball game ever made as a foundation to build upon.

The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword (Wii)
Reliable sources inform us that this was an excellent game, but, to use a turn of phrase from my idol over at Big Ghost Chronicles, "I can't really fucks wit tha Wii yo."




Conclusion?


I don't even know yet.


Stay tuned for the official awarding of The Salties on January 1st to find out which game wins.