So Crazy Am I

When I heard there was a DOA movie in the works, my first thought was, "who will they possibly find to play Ayane?" This was not a sneering gripe at the imperfections of mortal women. On the contrary, I assumed that, in order to capture the spirit of DOA, such a movie (lets not call it a film) would necessarily include the most beautiful actresses possible, with all other considerations being secondary, and that such a movie would be, if nothing else, aesthetically pleasing.

Don't get me wrong, I never actually planned to see the movie - until last Saturday afternoon, when, on a whim, I looked at the reviews on Metacritic and became a bit tweaked. Surely no one really believes that the target audience for these games, and this movie, is "kids too young to buy porn." Shouldn't professional film reviewers have a broad understanding of the entertainment industry, of which games are now an integral part? Someone, I decided, should review the movie from the gamer's perspective. Then drink was taken, and someone became me.

Though often derided for it by outsiders (and, sadly enough, each-other) male video gamers (which is most of them) are quite susceptible to the allure of simulated women. Females in video games are characterized by childlike faces, hyper-sexual bodies, and competent voice acting. On the whole, they possess a great deal of charm.

The DOA games rely on this charm more than most. Created by programming virtuosos known as Team Ninja, (led by gaming legend Tomonobu Itagaki) the DOA games boast artificial humans who are strikingly, sometimes unsettlingly, lifelike. The DOA universe comprises three separate game franchises, all of which combine masterful gameplay mechanics with copious digital cleavage.

The oldest of these, Ninja Gaiden, follows the violent adventures of a ninja named Hayabusa and his shadowy companion Ayane, a female ninja who acts as if she were his little sister. "Little sister," along with "voluptuous temptress" and "truelove" are female character archetypes ubiquitous in Japanese anime, and, by extension, Japanese video games. Japanese archetypes are a bit tricky to define, however. Each is essentially, but not exactly what it sounds like: little sisters are squeaky, energetic, and cute; voluptuous temptresses are often strong and wise; trueloves possess subdued girl-next door beauty and are nearly always imperiled.

The DOA fighting games pit characters, including Hayabusa, Ayane, and Ayane's half-sister Kasumi against each-other in weaponless combat. As they fight, the women jiggle, which some find distracting and/or reprehensible. The intensity of the jiggle can be adjusted through the options menu, making it all seem that much more sordid. The histories of these digital dreamgirls are conveyed in breathtaking cinematics. In one title, the soundtrack for the opening cinematic is Aerosmith's "Dream On," a choice that works on several levels. Clearly, Team Ninja knows what they, and we, are about.

There is also the DOAX series, which pits the female characters from the DOA fighting games against each-other in games of, wait for it, beach volleyball. I like to leave this one on at parties. Whenever my guests, male or female, see life-sized digital women diving, spiking, and adjusting their swimsuits on my large screen TV, they become transfixed. There is wonder, anger, repulsion, and even guilt. The opening music in DOAX is not quite as inspired as the Aerosmith, but it too drips with meaning, a message to the gamer from Team Ninja, hidden in plain sight. "So crazy am I," the lyrics blare as scantily clad women dance, "How crazy are you?"

Crazy enough, it would seem. I found a place in Manhattan where the movie was being shown, though I had to climb seven flights of stairs to get to the theater. When at last, sweaty and breathing hard, I took my seat and looked around, I saw four other men and one woman. Clearly, DOA: Dead or Alive (DOA from now on) is not likely to be a surprise box-office success. My fellow patrons and I regarded each other warily; each, no doubt, wondering of the others, "how crazy are you?" All of my fellows, I noted satisfactorily, were old enough to buy porn. Based on the angry grumbling during the movie, some of them were wishing they had.

In DOA, the tongue never leaves the cheek. Watching this movie is like dreaming that you are imprisoned in a magnificent palace made entirely of cheese. It scarcely needs to be mentioned that everything is incoherent and cheesy. Clearly the producers aimed low, and at least the movie successfully avoids any whiff of self-importance. There are problems with shooting this low, however. Good cheese is occasionally tasty, but when cheese goes bad, it smells a lot like butt.

Yet even amidst such smells, DOA does a few things laudably well. The wire-fu fight choreography is top notch. Fights are not only thrillingly acrobatic, they are clear and complete - each fight tells a story. This is refreshing, and it elevates the movie profoundly, even as unpardonable story, character, and dialogue decisions drag it down shamefully.

DOA is touted as the first American movie produced entirely in China, and it shows. Chinese film makers demonstrate their tremendous skill at filming the martial arts, as well as their contempt for intellectual property rights. Though the fights are well done, the setting and scenario for each seems to have been stolen from one of many well known modern wire-fu movies, (OK, maybe it can be called "homage") such as Crouching Tiger - Hidden Dragon, Hero, House of Flying Daggers, and perhaps The Matrix as well. Surprisingly, the production values of the aforementioned films are generally matched, or nearly so.

DOA and The Matrix also share a connection to the recently deceased philosopher Jean Bauldrillard. It was through The Matrix that many Americans, including myself, were first introduced to Baudrillard. Early in The Matrix, Neo hides his hacker contraband in a copy of Baudillard's seminal work, Simulacra and Simulation. This book states that much of the world is separated from reality by so many layers of artifice that reality itself is unknown, uninteresting, and irrelevant. The premise of The Matrix was Simulacra and Simulation made literal. At times, Morpheus sounded quite profound; this was usually when Baudrillard's words were coming out of his mouth. Example - "Welcome to the desert of the real."

And what, you may ask, does DOA have to do with Baudrillard? Well, if there is a desert of the real, DOA sits at the point in the universe that it is farthest from. A simulacrum is a copy with no original, and the girls of the DOA games are perfect examples. Each was created using motion capture, and each borrows specific traits from multiple real women, but each is an originalcreation. There is no woman anywhere who can claim to have been the model for, say, Tina. There is no Tina but Tina. These simulacra possess only image, and lack nothing. They have accomplished "the extermination of the real [the original illusion] by its double." (Baudrillard, The Perfect Crime)

I doubt that anyone associated with DOA has ever heard of Jean Baudrillard - the movie comments on his work too perfectly for it to have been conscious. Baudrillard would say that in a world where even the most quotidian tasks are often simulation, movies and video games are reality's scapegoats - we call them simulation, thereby reassuring ourselves that the rest of our lives are real. Video game movies should provide the most comfort of all, as they offer two layers of simulation. But without significant exception, they comfort no one.

Why is this? Video game movies tend to mimic the ****of video games, with predictably disastrous effect. DOA tries to smooth over the discontinuities by taking them even further. DOA doesn't mimic video game **** it simulates a video game. And it is the simulacra of the video game that the actresses represent: real women simulating simulated women. This is a Baudrillardian reversal of Baudrillard himself. What DOA attempts, more than any other movie, is the extermination of the double by its real.

There are male actors in the movie, but they serve only to clutter it. This is especially true of Eric Roberts, an anti-charismatic distraction who keeps trying to drag the movie in the direction of its plot (not its strongest feature, believe me.) There is also a nerdy guy with the thankless job of monitoring the women 24 hours a day on hundreds of hidden cameras. (I guess he represents the audience?) Then there is Hayabusa; when he speaks, the sound of his words and the movement of his mouth don't synch-up properly. And I don't think his dialogue is dubbed - this just seems to be something the actor has difficulty with.

That brings us to the girls, as well it should, for DOA is not really a movie about fighting. DOA is a movie about 5 actresses who look flawless from (we can now say with certitude) every angle, and in every pose. Some pull off the Baudrillardian reversal more successfully than others. I will touch on each one individually, (cue Aerosmith...) and keep score as best I can.

Kasumi, of "she kicks high" fame, is played by Devon Aoki, whom you may remember as the silent and graceful Miho in Sin City. Sadly, she brings little of that grace to this role, and even less of the silence. We first see her in her ninja palace, (or is it my cheese palace?) arguing with another character about an issue of some sort. (Paying attention to the dialogue, one quickly learns, is not advisable.) Aside from her inability to do anything particularly well, I have only one gripe about Devon Aoki, that being the color of her hair. Simulacrum-Kasumi's hair is fiery red, so why is Devon-Kasumi's hair brownish-gray? Her acting is truly bad, but I wasn't bothered by it for very long; all my contempt was needed elsewhere soon enough. Round one goes to the simulacra.

Ayane is played by Natassia Malthe, who is so bad that her performance is actually jarring, even in context - a disaster within a disaster. This model turned model-in-a-movie is not only terrible, but seems almost singularly un-like Ayane. Her dark hair, piercing eyes, and gleaming bronze skin must have looked ravishing in the pages of Maxim, but here they work against her, as Ayane is not exactly swarthy. Natassia's features are sharp, boney, and angular, whereas Ayane's are soft. Natassia is a mature femme fatale; Ayane, if you recall, is the little sister type. Natassia's purple wig acts only as an exclamation point. No contest here. Silly Natassia, purple hair is for simulacra!

Helena, played by Sarah Carter, has been given an entirely new back-story and is, therefore, almost an original character, sharing nothing with simulacrum-Helena but a name and blonde hair. For this reason, she doesn't clash with the pre-existing character the way the others do. This is a good thing, because simulacrum-Helena is prissy and aloof whereas Sarah-Helena is basically likable. She is endearingly sweet to the nerdy voyeur guy when he finally approaches her, so there is hope, the movie tells us, even for creepy voyeur types (like us, presumably). The only problem with Sarah Carter's performance is that she always looks as though she thinks she ought to be in a slightly better movie. On second thought, maybe that can be forgiven. Neither side scores this round; the Helenas are distinct enough to coexist.

Christie is played by Holly Valance. In her first fight scene, surely the most memorable in the movie, she steps out of the shower wearing a towel and is attacked by several men with guns. She proceeds to disarm and subdue all of her assailants while simultaneously slipping off her towel and putting on a bra and panties. At one point, she catches a gun behind her back, points it directly at her assailant's crotch, and orders him to hook her bra. The implied threat in this scene is not to Christie's life, but to the movie's PG13 rating. The scene is there to show off, as much as possible, the skill of the cinematographer, and the body of Holly Valence. Both are exceptional, which is why this works. It seems to me that Holly played her part about as well as one would have expected, and the same cannot be said for everyone. She isn't the most memorable actress in the movie, but neither is Christie the most memorable of the DOA girls. For the audacity of her first scene, (simulacrum-Christie has never produced such giddiness) Holly takes the win, and humans take the round.

Tina is played by Jaime Pressly, who is, in all ways, magnificent. Despite having been born "real," she presents a far more striking image than simulacrum-Tina. I won't refer to her as Jaime-Tina, because who cares about Tina when you've got Jaime? Jaime Pressly defies the relentless advance of virtuosity by the sheer power of her human spirit, like an obscenely flexible, half-naked John Henry. So thoroughly does she overshadow the other actresses in the movie that I found myself wondering if she was truly as talented as she appeared to be, or if I was merely falling prey, once again, to DOA relativism. I'm going to go out on a limb and suggest that she might yet rise high as a Hollywood comedic actress. (Higher than Joe Dirt, I'm saying.) Jaime Pressly is clearly an actress worth keeping an eye on, but there may be more to her than meets the eye. Humans score.

So we have a tie. The real, clearly, has an uphill struggle when attempting to retake ground from the virtual. As for the extermination of the double by its real - like Ayane's oft-delayed assasination of Kasumi, this killing never actually takes place, nor is it even really attempted in earnest. Assassin and target are fundamentally opposed, but inextricably intertwined. To destroy the target would be to destroy the self.

What is the lesson? That you can replace the real with simulacra, but you cannot necessarily replace simulacra with the real? Perhaps the simulacrum is a succubus, and by accepting her embrace, we abandon hope, at least hope for anything "real." Or perhaps the lesson is simpler - that an image can be used to represent anything except another image. Or perhaps that the copy is more powerful than the real in at least one respect: it has an easier time copying the other.

DOA was a bad movie, full of attractive women, bad acting, and decent fight scenes. I found it interesting, largely because of issues unknown to its producers. A bad film that leads to interesting thoughts is decent entertainment in my book, and for that reason, I enjoyed DOA. So crazy am I.Will you enjoy it? Well, how crazy are you?