No matter which way you look at it, Max Payne is an awful movie. It's only slightly cheeky and watchable more than once. Those who have never played the video game, which is the film's predecessor, will not like this movie. And to those who are well aware of the game's nature, having played it in full, enjoying it or not, I say this to you: I guarantee you will not see this movie as anything more than a trite, weakened adaptation of the original.
The reason I come back to the subject of the Max Payne film, is because there is more to be said and uncovered.
Just this morning, I finished another complete game of Max Payne, and took it upon myself to rent the film, being slightly intrigued to pursue the "Director's Cut" qualities that prompted me. Among the obvious boastings, I had hoped to find some deleted scenes, perhaps some insightful featurettes, some actor interviews; I even hoped to find some sort of "From Game to Film" piece/thing/short.
Needless to say, I was let down once again.
There were no deleted scenes, no insightful featurettes, no actor interviews, and certainly no "From Game to Film" piece. All that the disc contained was a theatrical version and a director's cut version of the film, and an audio commentary with the director. But come on, do I really want to watch this movie again, this time with the sound stifled, and the director bragging about his multi-million dollar grossing movie?
Oh yeah, speaking of money, Max Payne earned $17 million+ in its first week at the Boxoffice.
Max Payne
For some reason, John Moore, the movie's unimpressive director, felt it was necessary to steer the film completely away from its predecessor's original storyline.
Some of the changes that were made:
The role of Jack Lupino is hyped up, being more of a super-human on drugs than a madman affected by drugs, on drugs.
The role of Norse mythology symbolism is at large in the game. However, the film takes the idea of Valkryes, Valhalla, etc, and turns it into a literal, insinuating reality, that these bad dudes really DO have wings, and really are waiting for the Valkryes to carry them off the battlefield. This is especially so with the character of Jack Lupino.
The character of B.B. is revealed to be a counterpart in the whole of the Valkyr operation. However, he is not part of the drugged-outs who killed Max's family.
Nicole Horne is killed in the final shoot out on top of the Aesir building. She does not live for a sequal.
Vladimir, head of the Russian mafia never makes an appearance in the film. (unless he is the man, walking opposite Max on the street; this would in turn make sense, seeing as how thatcharacter was at the party in Mona's gang, as she attempted to strong-arm her sister Natasha)
Natasha Sax, Mona's sister, is not a character from the storyline. In the game, she is Don Punchinello's wife. Punchinello is head of the Italian mob.
The character of Mona Sax is a twin sister to Lisa, and not at all Russian (which is how she is portrayed in the movie). She is most certainly American.
Alfred Woden, head of the Inner Circle (a secret society responsible for funding all sorts of things, from the shadows of course) is nowhere to be seen in the film.
The scene that introduces the game, is of Max on top of the Aesir building, punctuating the end of his vendetta by claiming "They were all dead." This is the same scene in which the final scene exits as well. The film was consistent with mirroring a scene in the introduction, and further into the movie. Well done, film. HOWEVER, it is not of Max's final scene on top of the Aesir building. It is instead of him floating in the river, telling us about the criminals and such that hang out with him at the bottom of the Hudson River. A dizzying inclusion.
The story behind Max's vendetta is made visually clear in the beginning of the game. We see him coming home to find his wife and baby murdered. However, in the film, the emotional response to the scene is not seen until nearly half way through the movie.
Scott Miller, CEO of 3D Realms (producer of the Max Payne games) put it best, when asked asked for his thoughts on this minor alteration:
"Saving this scene until mid-film is a narrative blunder, because the audience needs to empathize with Max in order to like him and understand what drives him."
This is exactly what the game, or should I say, the original storyline accomplished. Its portrayal of Max's unspoken plight was indeed made clear, and his taste for revenge (to an extent) did seem justified. But most importantly, from the very beginning (and this is where the movie lost points) we could understand his anger. There was never any confusion as to why you were Max Payne, and why Max Payne had nothing to lose.
-"Every shot, every edit is well thought out. But in the end, I didn't care about anyone." Austin Kennedy, Sin Magazine
As you can see, many reviewers share my thoughts on Max Payne.
A reviewer at the Internet Movie Database put it best when he said,
"I wanted this to be good. I kept lying to myself and saying it would get better any minute.
People who say I am disappointed because it isn't the video game need to understand I didn't want the video game I wanted an action film that captured the essence of the game.
We are left with no reason to care for Max Payne. If I was the writer I would have been ashamed to have my name attached.
Max Payne got the Indy treatment.
I really want my money back on this one. I felt insulted that they thought this script was a passable story"
Mike Mills and Blonde Redhead. What is it about their collaborations that insist he make simple, artistic music videos? Whatever the reason, it's always a delight. This one isn't like the last two I have posted. It's fun, rather than dark or sad.
I have a confession to make. I collect computer game music.
Yes, it's true. I have a little over 100 different folders, containing every thing from complete soundtracks to single track treasures. The music takes up about 4 and a quarter gigabytes of hard drive space and is comprised of a variety of stylistically different computer games. However, the bulk of my collection, consists of old Sierra (Sierra On-Line) adventure games.
I am currently organizing each collection, meticulously citing my sources as I make adjustments.
This process seems to never end.
There are titles to verify, track numbers (if ever the music had an order), album titles (if there ever was such a thing; many times, no official soundtrack was ever produced, but rather its form is dictated by the essence of the original game), and of course album art (or in many cases, the picture on the box that the game was sold in). However, I am nearing the end of my archiving.
Here follows a complete list of my computer game music:
This past week, two of my dear friends made their way over to Coeur d'Alene to spend some quality time with me. Kyle was my best man, and is my best friend. And my friend Greg was one of my groomsmen. Both of them are wonderful men, with robust hearts. It was wonderful, however, brief. Though it always is. When you have a limited amount of time to spend with friends that you are unable to imagine not having, the time you are given, never seems long enough.
This got me thinking about just how many people I have known across the span of my life; and I am only twenty-three years old! I have dear old friends from Seattle, friends from my time in Yakima (some of the best I could hope for), and others still in limbo here, in my home of Coeur d'Alene. But how fleeting these years have been. I say I have had many good friends. I recall years of bliss, of rolling around in the mud, playing prince and princess with many of my lady friends, running wild in the urban jungle I grew up in. I will always remember and be reminded of the great figures who raised me, and nurtured my wild little heart. Those that have passed, I respect with an unknowning. But now, I feel there are many answers to be sought out about my past. I can't help but feel hopelessly lost, disconnected from myself...whomever that is.
All I have are fragments and many contradictions.
Were we so great of friends? Perhaps. It is just not a friendship that lives on to this day. I suppose I must learn to accept this. It is a difficult pill to swallow, when I want so desperately to know and relate with all those I have known, to find out for myself (at this point in my intellectual development) just who these people were.
I have put off posting "The Heinrich Maneuver" for quite some time. My only reason for not making this post until now, had something to do with the idea, that saving the best, for the absolute last minute, is ideally the best possible thing to do. Much like when we were younger, all of us relished our bag of goods after a visit to the candy store. Some of us ate only a small portion daily, but stowed away larger quantities for a special day. Likewise, it's time this immensely disturbing video got some air-time.
It is as haunting as it is intriguing. With broad strokes and the help of Paul Banks' choice of cryptic symbols for words, "The Heinrich Maneuver" is dazzling. The story unfolds slowly as, frame-by-frame, our perception pans out in impressionistic bravado.
I can't help but feel this video flirts with some sort of symbolism, as its emergent characters divert, and regress back into the frame.
Today the new U2 album is released. And for those of you who no longer purchase digital discs, there are more than a few alternatives available. I will say no more.
Now to business.
In celebration of the day, I've decided to post something I stumbled across a couple of months ago.
Following the success of U2's seventh studio album, Achtung Baby, while still on their (now famous) Zoo TV Tour, Bono sits in the studio for a one-on-one interview discussing the thoughts and delves of the band as they put the finishing touches on their follow-up album, Zooropa. It is August 1, 1993. During the heart to heart, Bono discusses the nature of the new songs: the band's fascination with the overstimulated, media-driven world of technology. He then relinquishes this gem to the interviewer:
I read a book once, called In Cold Blood. Pages of fact did me no good. I read it like a blind man, in cold blood.
So the story of a three-year-old child. Raped of soldiers, though she'd already died, Made the mother watch as they fucked her in the mud. I'm reading the story now, in cold blood.
More now coming off the wire City surrounded, funeral pyre Life is cheaper than talking about it People choke on their politicians' vomit.
On cable television I saw a woman weep Live, by satellite, from a flood-ridden street Boy mistaken for a wastepaper bin Body that a child used to live in.
I saw plastic explosives and an alarm clock And the wrong men sitting in the dock Karma is a word I never understood How God could take a four-year-old in cold blood.
I live by a beach, but it feels like New York I hear about 10 murders before I get to work. What's it going to be, Lord, fire or flood? An act of mercy or in cold blood?
He then tells Mr. Jackson of his interest in reciting the poem over the backdrop of U2's then unreleased song, "Numb" while the audiovisual loop of an 11-year-old Nazi plays the drum, at the 1936 Olympic Games. Very eerie stuff.
Max Payne 
