Monsters At Hand

 It's a funny thing - last year at this time, I had zero interest in Dungeons & Dragons, a pastime that occupied a great deal of my youth. Now, half-a-year into the various precautions and physical distancing associated with a global pandemic, I am DMing two campaigns, one online and the other in person, playing in another online campaign, and am waist-deep in painting miniatures for it again.

I most recently finished a beholder, perhaps D&D's most iconic and unique monster. I mean, the eponymous dragons obviously play a big role, but they inhabit a huge swathe of fantasy backgrounds and games alike. The beholder is a terrifying and challenging monster to fight pretty much unique to D&D (I have yet to use one in one of my campaigns, and have only faced one in the old Playstation game, Baldur's Gate: Dark Alliance), and is the featured creature on the cover of the current Monster Manual.

It got me to thinking about where I stand in terms of these most archetypal monsters. I mean I have collected literally hundreds of monsters over the years, but have only recently included some of those most-associated with D&D. I found an io9 article listing "The 10 Most Memorable Dungeons & Dragons Monsters" (even though one of the monsters described is actually a race and the best known example is actually a good guy) and used it as a baseline to see how many of them I have at my disposal.

10) Tarrasque - The biggest and most challenging monster on the list - I am unlikely to ever use one, given its high Challenge Rating and overall lethality, and it would be an immense and expensive miniature to boot.

Status: no thanks

9) Mind Flayer - Ah, the classic, Cthulhu-inspired tentacle-faced brain eaters. I don't really have anything like this, but the official miniature leaves me a bit cold - the head feels too small and the tentacles are not nearly wriggly enough. The Reaper knock-offs have better heads and poses, but I'm not compelled yet.

Status: maybe later

8) The Drow - Dark Elves can be great villains or even heroes (as described above), but calling them monsters feels a bit dismissive. Besides,m I have plenty of elvish-looking models from a variety of classes I can use in a pinch.

Status: substitutable

7) Lich - Undead sorcerers thirsting for eternal life, whatever the cost - tremendous villains, these! Any skeletal spellcaster will do in a pinch, but I have a dandy one in a throne from Warhammer Quest I can use too.

Status: got it

6) Owlbear - One of the sillier monsters, burdened with an unflattering picture in the original Monster Manual and only really coming back into vogue in recent years as nostalgic players leaned into the weirdness. I just painted one of these recently, and wouldn't mind getting my hands on the Snowy Owlbear variant introduced in a recently published adventure.

Status: got it!

5) Gelatinous Cube - Speaking of weird, how about a translucent cubic blob used by mad wizards to keep the halls of their dungeons clean? Another classic monster from 1st edition AD&D, and now with an excellent miniature that not only shows the treasure it has accumulated from digesting other adventurers, but it can also be placed over other figures to show that they have been enveloped.

Status: got it!

4) Rust Monster - Another amusing meta-monster; this creature doesn't pose much threat to wizards or monks, but can wreak havoc on heavily armed or armoured characters as it can disintegrate metal by touching it! I have nothing like this and it might be good to have a couple on hand as players both hate and fear them. They look quite a bit creepier now than in their original, cute illustration.

Status: searching

3) Mimic - A monster invented to shock and surprise players once, then taunt them with apprehension for perhaps the rest of their lives. The mimic looks like a treasure chest or other item of value, attacking loot--seeking players unawares. I recently acquired one and hope to have it finished shortly.

Status: in progress

2) Displacer Beast - I would really like a couple of these, but only if they are as cool as David Trampier's original illustration. So far the figures just aren't up to snuff.

Status: waiting

1) Beholder - At long last, I have added this terrifying so-and-so to my collection! 

Deciding which of the 4 different spell-effect eyestalks I would use was difficult, but in the end I held myself to just the lightning bolt. The clear plastic eyelid piece was another welcome addition to this figure.

Will I ever use the beholder? Hard to say, but none of my players are in a rush to face one anytime soon.

Status: got it!

Not too bad, overall - when the mimic is done I will have half this list on hand, and there are only two more that I am really interested in acquiring as miniatures. Thankfully, I have plenty of figures on hand to proxy in if I need to, and the counters come supplied when we are playing online!

And as far as dragons go - I have access to three painted ones (four if Fenya lets me borrow the one she painted a while back) and another six on the way next year as part of the Arena expansion that three of us Kickstarted, so yeah, I think I'm covered there.

Frustratingly Brilliant - Tenet, Reviewed

My resolve finally weakened and I returned to the cinema on Saturday afternoon to see Tenet. As near as I can tell, it is only my second big-screen movie experience in 2020 - the last one was Birds of Prey back in February.

I was drawn in (or drawn out, depending on your perspective) by two factors - one is that Tenet's director, Christopher Nolan, is one of my all-time favorite filmmakers, and has been since Memento (2000).

The other was an email from The Rare Hipster who had seen it at a midday matinee earlier this week and who attached a picture showing the three other masked people at the screening.

So this review will include two elements: a spoiler-free review of the movie itself, and a quick look at how reckless it may or not be to go to a movie theatre during a global pandemic.

Tenet is a movie I have been looking forward to for quite some time - I am enough of a fan that I began periodically shadowing Nolan's IMDb account for news of his next project about a month after watching Dunkirk in 2017.  When the teaser was released last year, I was intrigued, and also pleased at how parsimonious the marketers were with story details. The full trailer also kept its cards very close to its (presumably stylish and well-cut) vest, and made Tenet probably my most eagerly anticipated movie of 2020. And keep in mind, this is in a year with two Marvel movies and a Bond film on the schedule!

Then the pandemic hit, and I was certain I would end up seeing Tenet on the small screen at home instead of in IMAX as I had originally planned, but yesterday I relented.

Was it worth it? Yes. Nolan's skill at stitching together great scene with wonderful actors using tense dialogue and deft camerawork is matched only by his unmatched ability to stage brilliantly imaginative set-pieces in scales ranging from the intimate to the epic, and both of those traits are on fine display in Tenet. It is worth seeing this on as big a screen as you can manage.

Is it a great movie? Possibly...I can't really say for sure yet.

Even by Nolan's standards, Tenet is a complex film that demands the attention of its audience. I was happy to give it, but still found myself baffled at places, a state that was not aided by the film's breakneck pace.

The reason for the complexity is that there are objects (and at times, people) moving backwards through time in this film. I know, I know, time travel is a pretty fire which has warmed many a storyteller and burned many more. Nolan establishes his rules fairly early on and embellishes them with a tidy bit of exposition in the second act, confirming some things canny viewers may already have sussed out and introducing a few more. 

One criticism I feel compelled to share is my disappointment with the sound mixing. Despite the clarity of the sound effects and a brilliant score by Black Panther's Ludwig Goransson, I had to struggle to make out much of the dialogue. This may be due to modern techniques and a desire to incorporate too much live sound or ambient effects, or it could be an intentional ploy by Nolan to force viewers to focus their attention. Whatever the reason, impeded both my enjoyment and understanding of this film.

Having said that though, Tenet is still well worth watching, and even begs the question: how necessary to appreciation is understanding? At multiple points in the film I simply stopped trying to anticipate things and focused instead on the moment at hand, and in almost every case I felt sufficiently up to speed by the time the next scene began.

As an American intelligence agent in a (temporal) Cold War, John David Washington is the real deal. I loved him in Black KKKlansman, but he is given far more room to work here. He brings that balance of charm, menace, grim humour and raw physicality as effectively as any actor who has carried the 007 mantle, and looks just as much at home in tactical gear and body armour as he does in a sharp suit.

Kenneth Branagh deserves special mention here as well for playing a brutal Russian arms dealer and oligarch so far out of his regular type that it feels at times the performance feels like mo-cap done with a Branagh suit. Robert Pattinson is likewise both physically capable and smart as a fellow agent and has increased my already-high anticipation of next year's The Batman movie.

All in all, Tenet is a movie that deserves your attention. It's plot, though Byzantine in places, never relies on stupid people to advance, although you can count on desperate or ruthless people to monkey wrench it periodically. Its big ideas are a feast for the mind and the visuals, as always, do the same for the eyes, even if it doesn't reward you with a complete understanding and appreciation of what you've seen at first blush. Many of Nolan's films become even better on repeated viewings, and I am confident this one will be no exception.

But those second screenings will have to wait until I get the BluRay and can turn on the subtitles.

To the second point now, and whether seeing a movie during COVID is the act of a madman.

Having already committed myself, my answer is probably biased, but no, I don't think so. The theatre capacity was greatly reduced (as you can see in the graphic below), all staff and patrons are masked (when not eating popcorn). and we are assured of vigorous sanitization between screenings.

As you can see, taking a 300+ seat auditorium down to 48 potential viewers certainly cuts down on the degree of risk, while by no means eliminating it. I was certain that if I returned to a half-capacity theater, surely someone would start choking on a wayward bit of popcorn kernel and their coughing would either drive me from the auditorium in a panic or take me so far out of the movie as to render the experience worthless for a time. Thankfully none of the literal handful of other viewers had any such incidents.

In the end, my future attendance will depend on a multitude of factors: current caseload in my city or area, anticipated crowd size, desire to see the film combined with how big a spectacle it might be, and the number of people in my cohort willing to see it. Tenet was my first time seeing a movie alone in perhaps a decade, maybe more. 

Would I go to see The New Mutants by myself? Probably not, sadly, despite my being an enormous fan of the comics.

Will I take my family to see No Time to Die in November if they are willing? Tougher question - I guess we will have to wait and see!

Will I go see Denis Villeneuve's Dune even if I have to go by my lonesome while wearing a hazmat suit and need to self isolate for 14 days afterwards. Almost certainly.

Writing-on-Stone: Lazy Rivers and Wary Rattlers

One evening while camping, Audrey and I took the car to the nearby town of Milk River in hopes of freshening up our provisions with more eggs and perhaps some bread. The fact that the cold beer store is situated right next to the grocery store may have played a factor in my motivations as well.

It's a little more than half an hour from the campground, and a lovely drive, past fields and pastures through the occasional bluff and coulee. Sadly, we got there at 6:30, a half-hour after both stores had closed. 

Bitterly disappointed, we began driving back to camp, where Fenya and Bobby were dutifully making dinner for us. The two of us speculated as to whether any local farms might have eggs for sale, or, failing that, some unsecured eggs we could perhaps make off with and leave a suitable amount of compensation for.

I began to decelerate the Corolla significantly and Audrey turned to ask what was wrong. I pointed to the road ahead where a dark line stretched across much of the lane. Pulling into the other lane as we passed it, we inspected it, and sure enough, it was a snake.

Bull snakes and prairie rattlesnakes are both familiar denizens of this part of the province - Medicine Hat is over an hour to the north of us, and their college's mascot is a rattler. I pulled off the side of the road just past the snake, thinking it likely to be a bull snake. The similarity between them is pronounced enough that bull snakes will actually pretend to be rattlesnakes when threatened, rearing up as if to strike and hissing in such a way that it sounds similar to the ominous rattle. 

As I approached the snake from behind I increased the zoom on my phone's camera just in case, and sure enough, the distinct tail was clearly visible - not a bull snake. I slowed my advance a fair bit at this point.

The snake slowly made his way across the road. I would have sworn he only left about a foot on either side of the lines on the road when he was stretched out, and although he no longer seemed quite so gargantuan, he was still a decent 5-6 feet in length by my estimation.

I slowly followed him while recording his eerie, undulating slithering across the cooling blacktop. I didn't get to hear that unnerving rattle again, as much as I wanted to record it, but the moment he curled his head and neck into an s-position to facilitate striking, I felt it prudent to give the reptile as much space as he felt the situation warranted.

Having heard a rattlesnake just a few days prior, getting to see one (even a silent one) was a real treat, and we were grateful that it was able to slither away into the grass on the other side of the road untouched by the two other cars that passed by.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

There were many moments for education but we made sure to include plenty of time for recreation during our time at Writing-on-Stone as well. We hung a white sheet off the Bride of Frankentrailer and watched Thor Ragnarok through my phone's projector one night just to change things up.

One night we enjoyed a sumptuous and colourful meal of Taber corn, grilled, marinated pork chops and a Greek salad. In all honesty though, the Hamburger Helper cooked by Fenya and Bobby (and augmented with mushrooms and peas) was just as sumptuous a repast. Nothing fancy, but we feasted in a bacchanalic style nonetheless.

Writing-on-Stone is one of those rare provincial parks with direct and easy access to the river and a swimming area, which we were eager to enjoy due to the 25-28 degree heat that made up most of our week. Sadly, the water level was too low to really do any swimming in, but it was totally sufficient for enjoying a lazy float in the tubes and raft we had brought.

The Milk River is perhaps the laziest river I have ever been on -the current was indiscernible, and a kick off the nearest sandbar would let you drift for a considerable distance before coming to a gentle rest. Less of a river and more of a linear lake, perhaps, but certainly a great way to spend our last full day in camp.

Good weather, good people, lots to see and learn, and just enough nothin' to go 'round -  a good time was had by all. I hope we can return to Writing-on-Stone again before too long.

Writing-on-Stone: Sandstone Cliffs and Petroglyphs

I had known since probably elementary school that there were indigenous carvings in the rocks in Southern Alberta. But I had no idea just how culturally significant these petroglyphs were until we visited Writing-on-Stone/Áísínaiʼpi.

The Sweetgrass Hills just over the border in Montana are a sacred place to the Blackfoot people, and they also believe that spirits inhabit the hoodoos and rock formations in the coulees of Writing-on-Stone. Because of this, not just anyone was allowed to write on the rocks - these are not just jottings or musings or recollections (although some are biographic in nature), but the products of visions, sometimes obtained under trying circumstances.

You can hike on your own to see the Battle Scene petroglyph I mentioned in my previous post, but to see the majority of the most significant carvings, you need to take a guided tour into a restricted area of the park -an archaeological preserve. At $19 a person, this is a bargain, and I heartily recommend anyone visiting the park for even a day to take advantage of it.

Thanks to COVID we couldn't take a bus down from the Visitor's Centre. Instead, we and the eight other participants formed a mini-convoy in our own vehicles and followed our interpreter, Laura, past the gate and descending down to a gravel parking area close to the Writing-on-Stone Rodeo Grounds (fun fact - Alberta singer/songwriter Corb Lund competed there in his youth).

After a short briefing on rattlesnake safety in which we were assured that no one in Alberta has ever died of a snakebite (and that there is actually more danger due to bacteria from their dirty fangs than their venom - ick), we set off. It was a short walk up some stairs to a plateau with benches facing the canyon walls, and Laura stood below the first panel, pointing out details with her walking stick.

We were lucky to have Laura - she has degrees in both archaeology and geography as I recall, but more importantly, she possesses a genuine passion and respect for indigenous culture and history which she was eager to share with us.

Over the next hour, she pointed out many details to us about the elements of the various panels we were viewing. A little of this I already knew, like how the horses brought here by the Spaniards predated the arrival of Europeans to the plains and had a tremendous impact on the lives of people living here in the 1700s. In some of the petroglyphs, you can see figures behind large discs which we now know are full-body shields that stretched from shoulder to ankle. These were abandoned once warriors and hunters took to riding horses instead. (Fun fact - the Blackfoot language had no word for horse, so their name for them means "elk-dog.")

These pictures do a poor job of conveying the content, but you might recognize some elements - v-necked people, a buffalo, a beaver. 

Much of what we learned was new to me though, like the idea that the spiritual nature of the carvings meant that Blackfoot Medicine Men stated they could change overnight. They sought wisdom and augury from them, believing they could warn of nearby enemies or dire outcomes of battles.

Just below and to the right of the centre of the picture above is something that looks like an axe (or a hockey stick, as is often volunteered to Laura) and something that looks like a broom. Archaeologists puzzled over these until a Blackfoot elder explained that the first item was in fact a medicine pipe and the second a type of offering pole topped with feathers and stuck in the ground at a ceremony called an All-Night Smoke, variations of which are still done today.

The round impact marks are in fact bullet holes, presumably from the North West Mounted Police outpost located directly across the river. A replica of the outpost was recreated at the mouth of Police Coulee in 1975, making the view far more similar to what it had been over a century ago.

There is settler content on the rocks as well, as NWMP officers, ranchers landowners and travellers felt compelled to add their marks to the writings. Work is being done to remove more modern graffiti, but anything inscribed prior to 1957 (the founding of the park) is considered historical and allowed to remain.

Looking at more panels, we learned how only spiritual beings are given eyes in these carvings, and how the interpretation of one of the carvings has moved from depicting a creature like a fish or fox to perhaps being a landscape, specifically the Sweetgrass Hills to the south of us.

The oldest of the petroglyphs are estimated to be 3500-5000 years old, but one of the most intriguing is actually the most recent. It clearly depicts wheeled vehicles and passengers but its precise date and origin was a mystery until a chance discovery of a photo less than 15 years ago. At an academic conference, the picture, which showed an indigenous man in a headdress carving the sandstone, was shown to a scholar who had worked at Writing-on-Stone and who immediately recognized the panel.

In his work as a road engineer on a Blackfoot reserve in Montana in the early 1920s, Roland Willcomb met several elders and became fascinated by tales of this spiritual place, a place where the spirits spoke through stone and where ghosts lived. He fought for permission for two of the elders, Bird Rattle and Split Ears, to leave the reservation and guide him there. After multiple denials and a persistent nagging of the federal officials, a pass was finally granted, and the three of them, plus an interpreter, made their way to Áísínaiʼpi in September of 1924.

The two elders had visited there as boys in the 1860s, and provided great insights into many of the petroglyphs, including naming one of the combat scenes as the Retreating-Up-the-Hill Battle. A second car containing some of Willcomb's friends joined them at the site as well.

As they prepared to leave, the two elders were grateful to have had the opportunity to return, but saddened at the thought they would likely never have the chance to return. Bird Rattle felt moved to depict their visit, and used a piece of quartz to depict the two Model-T Fords that had brought the group to Áísínaiʼpi. As he did, Willcomb took the picture that answered so many questions.

Bird Rattle's name features prominently in many of the exhibits in the park's visitors centre, and apparently, he was able to return to Writing-on-Stone twice more prior to his death in 1937.

This tale really resonated with us -  a strange connection linking a white engineer to a Peigan elder in the early 20th century, involving a Blackfoot sacred site with petroglyphs dating back further than three millennia, and only discovered in modern times because of the random discovery of a photo at an estate sale. Why hasn't anyone made this into a movie yet? Or at least a Heritage Minute?

On our way back to camp, we took a moment to survey the landscape from a viewpoint overlooking Police Coulee. It is compelling in a way that is difficult for me to articulate. It is not difficult to imagine being here in the late 1800s, when the NWMP maintained a presence here to maintain the border while battling boredom, and while Blackfoot warriors made their way back and forth across a mystical "medicine line" that appeared to confound their pursuers (but which was actually the 49th parallel).

Or you can cast your mind back even further, to pre-colonial times, when indigenous peoples came here to rest, to hunt, and to commune with the spirits. Truly an amazing place that we are privileged to have here in Alberta - very few sites have the ability to convey visitors through time as well as space in the way that Writing-on-Stone does.