Coffee Talk | A Mixed Tea Bag or Whatever Coffee Pun Suits This Game's Quality

Coffee Talk is a visual novel released in 2020. It is a rather under the radar game. I myself only managed to hear about it after my friend recommended it. I trust his opinion, and it helped that it also has good reviews on its Steam page. 

I haven't played many visual novels, but the ones I have played are some of my favorite games out there. Ghost Trick and the Ace Attorney trilogy are games I would recommend to practically anyone, and the Spike Chunsoft games like Zero Escape and A.I Somnium Files are fantastic as well. 

However, I knew at some point I was going to run into a game in the genre that wasn't going to sit right with me, and Coffee Talk ended up being the first to do so. It's upsetting because it certainly falls in the category of "games I want to like." 

It's clear from its art style and music that this game has some serious talent behind it. Aesthetically, this game is a stand out. If you ever wanted the Persona 5 Café LeBlanc, from the rich atmosphere to the chilling Beneath the Mask song, and have an entire game dedicated to that theme, then Coffee Talk will hit that niche. I cannot have enough of this wonderful atmosphere it provides. 

However, that is about the extent of my objective love for this game. Where that love ends is at the gameplay and story. 

Now, I am aware that visual novels are going to be a bit sparse in gameplay, but the gameplay that is there just doesn't work for me. Gameplay involves brewing coffee based on hints and or direct orders giving by the customers that come and go. Usually, it is pretty mindless. At its best, it is pretty good at pacing out the story. However, one thing that stood out were the times guesswork was involved in order to get certain drinks brewed. It should be noted that I am not a coffee drinker, so I am not familiar with the names of most drinks. I imagine that hampered the experience. If a player knew what Masala Chai was, then I imagine the fun of recalling ingredients and applying them in a virtual realm. Unfortunately, I can't speak from that experience. From where I stand, the gameplay mainly involves reading the text quick enough so I could both understand what was going on but also minimizing dwelling on the sometimes cringy dialogue. 

The story is a slice of life about a café that opens at midnight. And apparently, that wasn't much of a kicker, so they added werewolves, vampires, and a urban fantasy setting on top of that. It plainly doesn't work. The urban fantasy goes into the expected diatribe of racism, bigotry. and veganism. It doesn't really add anything. There is an elf character, but that character doesn't really need to be an elf. You can replace the elf aspect with wealth and elitism, and the character would remain unchanged. There is a character that can transform into a cat, but it doesn't add anything either besides covering up a plot hole that happens later on. Sure, these characters have a unique visual flare to them, but they don't feel special from a narrative perspective. 

I think what would have soften the blow if the world wasn't an urban fantasy but it contained fantasy characters. It would have given this midnight coffee shop a bit of mysticism as all the fantasy creatures gravitate towards this one place. However, it's not that. Instead, it is just any ol coffee shop. 

It would have also helped if some of these characters were simply human thereby letting some of the supernatural stuff stand out more. As it is, you can expect the same motions of each of the fourteen days you witness in Coffee Talk. You will bump into a handful of supernatural characters. They will update you on their problems. They will leave. Your reoccurring customer will comment on that interaction, and that is pretty much it. Most of the enjoyment you will have will probably be in the attachment of the characters, but I couldn't care for most of them. 

The one exception was the alien character, Neil, who I grew to like over the course of the story. I suppose most of the draw of Neil was the fact that I related greatly to his clinical way of speech, his unintentional social faux paus, and his drive to become a better social animal. In a weird way, the least human character was the only time for me where I felt any sense of humanity in Coffee Talk. Not that there isn't any attempt at humanity. All the characters are flawed but with an urge to try to be better people. However, it is all things that I have seen before. There isn't really any surprises. And when there were surprises, it felt brief or even detached.  

The Ending (Spoilers Past This Point)

There were two surprises near the end of Coffee Talk that were welcomed. One was a gameplay twist where you couldn't use a certain mechanic. It was neat if only for how it challenged you on a task that Coffee Talk didn't normally assign. Unfortunately, that's about as far as gameplay twists go and it sticks out more like a sore thumb rather than being a fond gameplay moment. 

The other twist is a story reveal where the player character admits to being an alien themselves or some other type of otherworldly being. It's an admittedly interesting idea, but I am immediately left with the aged old question for many creative writers and story tellers trying to blow the minds of their audience: "so what?"  

How does this twist mean anything for the rest of the characters? What does it mean for us? I can't seem to find a good reason for this twist other than they did for the sake of it. Darth Vader being Luke's father isn't there in Empire Strikes Back because the creative team thought it would be a cool idea. They did it because it changed Luke's, and by extension the audience's, perspective on evil and the scarier workings of the Dark Side. What does the story gain for having this twist? 

It arguably doesn't make sense as well from a gameplay perspective. At the end, your player character regrets making certain decisions. This gives the player hints where giving characters certain drinks on certain days can change the outcome of the story. Again, it is a clever idea, and I admire games that don't try to make their secret endings needlessly obtuse to obtain them. However, the impact is lost since your only agency as a player is which coffee to serve and which music plays in the background. While I understand having dialogue options would be a huge undertaking, and I understand the clever pun that your character essentially talks with coffee, I couldn't help but personally feel underwhelmed. 

And that is sort of my final thoughts on Coffee Talk, it was an underwhelming experience. I can't call it bad, but I am left empty. A part of it didn't feel like a complete experience. Either it was the sparse gameplay or the story that didn't click with me. 

I guess you can say it is not my cup of tea...

The Green Book | The Worst Best Picture Winner of the 2010s

*This was suppose to come out during Oscar season. However, I was too lazy to finish the fucking thing until now. Well better late than never. 

2017 was the last year I watched the Oscars. It was a big deal since for a while the Oscars were very important to me. As a film buff, it became a great guide and catalog to some of cinema's greatest films. It was where I discovered some of my favorite movies. I couldn't think of a world where I didn't see Dallas Buyers Club, Giant, and Brooklyn, but the Oscars gave that spotlight for me to see them. 

However, I think like a lot of film buffs will eventually realize, the Oscars weren't worth watching. And yeah, a large part of it was the controversies. The number of controversies reinforced more and more how out of touch the Academy was. The Oscars were diverse mainly in films about filmmaking, the white perspective, and Pixar films. #OscarsSoWhite soon also turned into #OscarsSoPatriarchal as diversity was also centered mostly on the male experience. Rarely were females nominated for big categories like Best Director. 

Then there were random attempts to be more 'broad' which lead to missteps like relegating certain categories into commercial breaks and implementing a new 'Best Popular Film' category. Both of which where reversed after an immense backlash.

But even ignoring those controversies, I stopped watching the Oscars simply because I grew out of it. I found better outlets to find better films, and the Oscars lineup after 2016 left a lot to be desired. I felt there was no point in watching the ceremony every year. And any moment where I considered going back, the Oscars had to do something stupid to vindicate my absence. Case in point, the winner of Best Picture in the 2019 Academy Awards. 

But before we get into that, we must first talk about another film. 

Crash was a film released in 2005 and is most known for having one of the most notorious upsets at the Oscars beating far more well regarded films like Brokeback Mountain, Good Night and Good Luck, and Capote. Upon retrospect. it has been given the moniker of being the worst film ever to win Best Picture. And yeah, when you see it, you can understand why. The film is a shallow and forgettable piece of filmmaking. It's self-proclaimed 'woke energy' in reality steers the conversation of race into something *very* problematic. One full of pointing fingers, blatant stereotypes, and undeserving righteousness because you have a black friend. In any other circumstances, this film would have been forgotten in the annals of time. However, the Oscars just had to do something stupid. 

When Crash won, the public quickly accused the Academy of picking Crash as a safer option over the two films with LGBT subject matter in a time where homosexuality was still taboo. While that isn't the movie's fault, Crash shouldn't have been nominated in the first place. And now, Crash has unfortunately became a symbol of just how out of touch the Oscars can be. 

Still, the movie was more or less forgotten. That is until 2019 when Green Book won Best Picture. And like a demon lord, the name Crash came rising up again. 

Green Book's upset brought a lot of parallels to Crash. It's a film about racism that was considered a safer option than its competitors. In this case, it beat Black Panther. A film I didn't love but is understandably culturally important in the history of blockbuster cinema. There's the BlackkKlansmen, a wonderful albeit slightly goofy portrayal of an excellent story of the Black experience. And finally, there is Roma. AKA, the film that should have won Best Picture, but that can be discussed for another time. And similar to Crash, it gave ammo to critics of the Academy Awards that the Oscars are far removed from the cultural landscape of today's society. 

It's also a film that isn't Best Picture quality and thus faced far more scrutiny.  

Now I want to preface that I think Green Book is no where near as bad as Crash. Me naming Green Book the Worst Best Picture of the 2010s came more out of process of elimination than anything else. I mean, the runner up in my opinion is the Shape of Water, and I know in my heart of hearts that a film containing a mute woman fucking a fish monster can't be anywhere close to the term "worst."

Green Book at least comes off as more well meaning. It's a subversive spin on Driving Miss Daisy except the charismatic driver is a white Italian and the uppity uptight passenger is a genius black musician. In ways, it is empowering to see a black character explore a different trope next to a role black actors are usually asked to play. It makes it more empowering considering this is based on true events. 

The movie is also pretty funny. There are some pretty clever sets up and payoffs. Things that you would think are one-off jokes are used again pretty effectively. Granted, they aren't genius jokes, but they're elevated by the performances. Mahershala Ali as Dr. Don Shirley is really good. Viggo Mortensen as Tony Lip is also really good. There is nothing substantial to say on top of that. They are mainly solid performances, and in parts Green Book is a solid movie. 

Honestly, if the movie didn't have the Oscars stamp of approval, it would have came out to decent reviews before joining the gallery of obscure movies that are decent but didn't quite have the staying power. However, we live in a world where not only the Green Book got the stamp of approval, it got the first place trophy and everything! 

And it got it for what? Well nothing really. 

I once heard a term called White Atonement movies. Movies that don't really challenge a white person's conception of the why or what they should feel guilty about in regard to racism. It's a movie that merely slaps the wrist of white guilt. And solely because of that, a white viewer can leave the film feeling good about themselves because they saw a film with black people in it. It reminds me of people who just left church only to not tip their waitresses. It reminds me of the people who hide behind their one black friend to block accusations of racism. The problem with films like this is that they are safe, and you can't be safe when subjecting viewers to the atrocities of racism. 

How Green Book plays it safe is through a white savior through line where Tony Lip is usually the catalyst for all the growth and change in Shirley. In fairness, I have seen other films do this to a much worse degree. However, it is troubling to see this trope in a Best Picture winner in the year 2018. 

It doesn't help that Green Book isn't really told from Shirley's perspective. While he is a major character, he isn't the main character. It's all from Tony's eyes which furthers reinforces the white savior cliché. Had Shirley also been a main character where we got to see his backstory or perspective that isn't dialogue or arguments rudely spouted at his driver, the film would have been better. It would have also given Ali more wiggle room to perform since early on his character comes off as stilted and unsympathetic. It's telling that Green Book isn't about a black musician but about his white insignificant driver. In that lens, its disempowering that some random white guy got more screen time than one of the most interesting Civil Rights figures in music. 

Green Book also has this undertone of cultural elitism. One of Shirley's 'problems' in the film is that he isn't Black enough. There are scenes where he hasn't tried fried chicken or listened to Little Richard. These scenes could have been amusing moments, but they are played under the lens that Shirley doesn't exude enough blackness. 

This particularly rubbed me the wrong way. I am Hispanic, and I have gotten bashed by other Hispanics that I am not a true Latino purely because I don't like this or I do that. It's annoying enough to hear it from people of your own race but to hear that language from a stereotypical white Italian??? 

To the movie's credit, Shirley points out Tony's microaggressions, but the movie doesn't dwell on it like it should. Microaggressions are still a problem in today's societies and could be a great lesson for people. It could challenge an audience in a way. However, Green Book would rather dwell on Shirley getting kicked out of a restaurant so that white people can give themselves a pat on that back. "Ahhh, we don't do that anymore," they may say. "I guess I am not racist anymore." 

I don't hate this film, but I hate what people might take away from this film. I hate that this film, a watered down Civil Rights film, got the big prize over films about minorities made by minorities. I hate that it reinforces the uphill battle diversity and inclusion has in motion pictures. I hate myself for dedicating a blog post to this film instead of Roma or BlackKklansman thus not helping the situation in anyway.  

So that is Green Book. An ok film that was liked by the Oscars and suffered because of it. You can say it was a unambitious film that tried to take Icarus's flight but spiraled down into a burning and familiar Crash. 

Films That Didn't Click (Part 2): Sunset Boulevard

Picture me, a fifteen year old, with a budding interest in cinema, taking a film analysis class in high school. We watched six feature films: Hugo, King Kong (1933), The Artist, Citizen Kane, Psycho, Bonnie & Clyde, and Sunset Boulevard. To put it shortly, I loved almost all of them. My budding interest bloomed thanks to these films, and I long for the days where I would go to Hastings every Friday to rent another cinematic classic. There was, however, two exceptions. Two films that I couldn't like as much as the rest. King Kong, because let's face it hasn't aged well in the eighty-eight years this film has been around. The other was Sunset Boulevard, and I remember even then feeling mildly guilty about it. Because even back then, I knew I should like it. You can say it was the first film that didn't click with me.

Sunset Boulevard released at the beginning of the 1950s and it quickly became a classic among contemporaries at that time. It was nominated for an astounding eleven Academy Awards and would take home three. By today's standards, many scholars rate this as one of the greatest American films of that era. If there was a quote-on-quote "quinternity" of classic American films, I think few would argue against putting Sunset Boulevard with the likes of Citizen Kane, Casablanca, Vertigo, and Wizard of Oz. 

That being said, all of these accolades and the cinematic legacy didn't stop me from feeling totally indifferent towards it. I didn't hate it, but it was the only film that would make my eyes glazed over during that classroom screening. 

Rewatching it, I quickly remember why. Unlike Lost in Translation where the movie is hampered in some eyes due to its pacing, Sunset Boulevard is hampered by being very 1940s-50s. 

Now, I love 1950s movies. It's actually one of my favorite decades in cinema. However, even I can't stomach some of the old hand methods. The noire narration comes to mind. I don't mind monologues, but it feels very out of place in this film and honestly comes off as indulgent. In terms of writing, it rids the film of a lot of nuance. It makes the film very blunt, and I feel it didn't needed to be that way. There is a pretty lengthy stretch where we don't hear much from our main protagonist's narration, and it is the strongest part of the film due to how it lets you organically immerse yourself in the drama. It also doesn't make sense that a dead character is talking to an audience, but I am being pedantic. 

And while we are on the subject of a dead character and being pedantic, I don't think the movie beginning in medias res of the final scene lends itself well to the tension of the story. I would have preferred if there was an alternate opening. Or, if you want to keep the monologues, have an opening monologue over coverage shots of the titular Sunset Boulevard that would play back again once the ending comes to fruition. 

Of course, these are a mere nitpicks to the narrative of the film. Overall, the film is masterfully done in terms of structure and has all those glorious writing moments and touches. I won't list them all as many people likely already have. I will say that my personal favorite is Erich von Stroheim as the butler who has a reveal that really puts him and our main character in a very striking and eerie parallel. It's genuinely horrifying. 

The film has been described as a horror film, but I think its better described as a "social horror." The threats in this film aren't purely tangible or psychological but a highlight of society that exacerbates the tragedy of the situation. It's not scary that Norma Desmond is delusional. It's scary because Joe Gillis' only avenue of financially surviving involves working with her. It's not scary that Norma Desmond is reading fake fan letters. It is scary that Max the butler along with every other character in this film continue to enable her delusions instead of addressing her declining mental health. Now, even though celebrities dealing with mental health issues is still a problem, we can at least take some comfort in knowing there is pure transparency between us and celebrities thus normalizing the plight of mental health issues. Mental health, in general, is a less taboo subject matter. Sunset Boulevard, like a lot of great stories from an older era, is a window to a different time where the concept of mental health is very different which serves as a cautionary tale. It gives this film a sense of timelessness. Other social horrors tie into other themes. Themes of relationships, rejection, codependency, and abuse. Again, I won't get into too much detail as I imagine so much has already been said.

If I had anything bad to say about the story of Sunset Boulevard aside from the monologues and the opening scene, I would say that it is slightly quaint as many films since Sunset Boulevard have done the premise with the benefit of modern technology and methods. Films like Birdman or even subtler films that evoke the days of forgotten actors like Jackie Brown have really upped the standards of this premise. It makes it hard to go back to this movie when you have seen it done and done arguably better. From a modern perspective, there are a couple of things that hold Sunset Boulevard back. 

The acting is the standout example, specifically William Holden and Nancy Olsen who were rather plain, boring and "1950s" for my tastes. Oh don't get me wrong, they aren't Sam Worthington plain and boring, but I think they aren't remembered as often as Humphrey Bogart for a good reason. There are certainly great performances. I already mentioned Erich von Stroheim, but I have neglected to mention Gloria Swanson who is easily the most iconic part of the film. However, when they weren't on screen, the rest of the film is a bit of a slog of snappy dialogue that doesn't feel like real people talking.

In the same vein as Lost in Translation, my feelings on Sunset Boulevard hasn't changed, I appreciate a few more elements of it, and now my thoughts on it are more colored in thanks to my more refined perspective on film. Above all, I also respect the film a lot more. It's one of the greats for a reason. However, like Norma Desmond, its spark is not quite like it once was.