I'm going to just admit it right here and now, I'm a movie elitist. I only like to watch oscar worthy films, I generally look down on anyone who has enjoyed a movie starring Ashton Kutcher, and I would totally suck Philip Seymour Hoffman's cock. Despite that I do enjoy getting a group of friends, getting raped for fifteen bucks on tickets and snacks, and letting go of my pretentions for an hour and a half in front of the silver screen. To me nothing few things say summer as well as a big, tacky, over-budgeted, bloated with uneccessary celebrities, blockbuster. Looking at this summer's list of films I just can't find any reason to be excited. I know to expect my summer flicks to play it safe and eschew originality like that one girl in highschool who was really hot, but everyone knew that she had herpes (you know the one I'm talking about). So let's take a look at what I've declared Shit-Fest '08: The Unforgiving Carnival of Shatered Dreams Strewn Across a Flaming Horror-scape.

Iron Man
I've heard decent things, but honestly, another comic book flick. I've taken that trip before. Sure, I had a good time, but I still have all those souvenirs, knick-knacks, and, as of yet, undeveloped photos to remind me of the good times. Comic flims can be good, but there's always this exclusionary factor (one that exists in any film culled from pop-culture) that I, as someone who has never delved into a comic book, can never get over. Plus, they just feel the same to a degree that's above and beyond what I'd expect. The style, the flow, the dialogue, I'm sick of it all. So no, I won't be seeing Iron Man.

What Happens in Vegas...
Unless what happens in Vegas involes three shady latinos in a hooded sweatshirts and a busted cervix then I'm going to have to sit this one out despite Ashton's winning smile. How it haunts my dreams.

Speed Racer
Whoever came up with the idea that 80s cartoons are well suited for adaptation to the big screen must have his tongue so far up the asshole of chidhood nostalgia that he's in extreme danger of it getting burnt off by stomach acids. I honestly don't know who this film is for. Fans of the original have surely realized that it's complete and utter shit by now and the people who liked it in an ironic sense aren't going to flock to a film that seriously tries to adapt for cinema. I guess studios are just willing to throw their money at the Wachowski's and their flights of fancy.

Chronicals of Narnia: Prince Caspian
The first was little more than an also-ran in the bloated category of Lord of the Rings wannabees and logic dictates that little will change the second time around. Expect unlikeable characters that are overacted to a ludicrous level and battles that have been tuned down to lukewarm.

Indiana Jones and the Milking of the Dated Franchise
I don't know about you, but I was perfectly happy with the Indiana Jones trilogy as it was. Yes, Temple of Doom was a tragic misstep, but The Last Crusade was a pitch perfect ending. Why ruin a good thing by going back to the young sidekick and female companion formula that almost fucked up the trilogy without the added benefit of a little chinese kid that spouts quotable one-liners?

You Don't Mess With the Zohan
Oh Adam Sandler, how I wish you had pulled a Chris Farley and died in a drug induced stupor so we could all turn a wrongfully nostalgic eye on Billy Madison and Happy Gilmore, smile knowingly at each other, and declare you one of America's greatest comedic minds.

Kung Fu Panda
I can't imagine anyone who's still intrigued by the concept of 3D animals in wacky situations. Penguins that dance? NO WAY! A bee that sues honey manufacturers? NO WAY! A goofy pair of woodland creatures that must save the forest? NO WAY! I'll admit that Jack Black has some notable comedic chops, but he only shines in small budget films that he'll never get recognition for and bit parts as comedic relief. In the end serious critique of a cartoon is trivial. I'm over five years old and finding it unfunny is about as inevitable as the world ending in 2012 (That's right, its going to happen. Mark my words, people).

The Incredible Hulk
No! Bad Stan Lee! Bad! I guess we didn't rub his nose in Hulk hard enough because he's allowed another turd to drop onto our brand new carpet. It's valiently attempting to right Ang Lee's undeniable wrong by making it a pure action-fest. Maybe they'll pull it off, but I can't for the life of me forgive this franchise for wasting my money the first time around. Also, look back on my vies on Iron Man tif you want to know my general attitude towards more comic book movies.

Get Smart
I guess Steve Carell senses some inevitable downturn in his career because he's quickly becoming good friends with high paying shitfests. There is no need for the Get Smart franchise to be dug up. It's not like it's still popular, it's not like the Bewitched remake was sucessful, it's not like the Honeymooners remake was sucessful. Maybe a big studio executive hired a numerologist who assured him that "The third time's a charm." I hope Carell keeps throwing in some good films in between the cash-jobs because he does have some actual talent.

The Love Guru
Mike Myers, ewww. Wayne's World was funny despite him. Never forget it.

Hellboy II
The first Hellboy was decent, but only because it was so set on playing it safe. Every action scene, ever line a character uttered, every conveniently placed moment of comedic relief. It all fit snugly like two lego blocks. It didn't bother me too much when I first sat through it, but the more I think about it the more it bothers me. It's like picking at a scab. You just want to let it go, but you keep poking and scratching until you eventually have a big festering hole in your body. That's what Hellboy is, no matter how much you want it to be something healthy it eventually turns into an ugly scar.

At this point this is still a work in progress and there are films I've haven't gotten to as well as smaller flicks that are either too good to shit on, or not worth my time. Feel free to request any I may have missed or yell at me for being a douche and implying that Chris Farley was never funny (off of SNL before you throw that at me).

Also, Philip Seymore Hoffman, if you're reading this, just name the time and the place.

And now a finished product.

Clearly I have a warped sense of humor and play too many videogames. Apply a "Your princess is in another castle," caption as you see fit.

I've been fucking around with it and making a lot of quick doodles. Nothing to shit yourself over, really.

...and I suddenly came to the startling realization that it wasn't real. Of course, I already knew that games weren't real, but I was never so fully aware of how intangible and illusory they were. I was exeriencing nothing more than a figment, a fleeting, ephemeral, wisp posing as substace. Then, as if some light was turned on in my mind, an insidious chain revealed itself to me. My eyes, acting as a receptor, pick up images on the TV screen. The TV, though, is merely a receptor for information which is sent from the console. Of course, the console is yet another receptor merely taking information provided by the game disc.

This process goes on until one traces it back to the developer. Surly they must be the beginning link in the chain that provides purpose and direction to the process? Unless, they're as inconsequential as a console or a television. Information goes in and it comes back out, nothing is lost or gained in the process. Conciousness is simply a meaningless side effect. Just as Mario and his exploits are a fallacious fabrication that fleetingly exist as information is transferred between mediums so is the entity I call myself.

As I realized this the walls around me began to turn thin. Not in dimension, but in how real they seemed to be. I could no longer be crtain that they were even there. I looked at them curiously and as I concentrated I could hear a low, constant, baritone hum that seemed to come from deep within them. I put my ears against them to hear better and to my surprise they gave in to the force of my body. Instead of being solid they were like a block of gelatin.

Pushing harder I found that I could force myself into the walls. Despite how gelatinous the walls were it took a large amount of effort to work my way in. With my feet planted firmly on the floor I could wiggle my body back and forth and inch by inch I more of me went into the wall. First one hand, up to the shoulder, then the next. Then I forced my face in. Inside it was an absolute blackness darker than anything I've ever experienced. Yet at the same time it was warm. Like being cocooned in a warm blanket on a chilly fall morning.

From this point getting in all the way was simply a matter of jutting my body forward as if I was jumping. Once inside I had the feeling of being momentarily suspended before being dropped into a free fall. I could feel myself moving faster and faster. As I fell I began to pass specks of light. At first they looked like stars in a night sky that slowly, but surly began to grow larger and larger. These dots of light continued to grow and my descent gradually halted.

As the lights became more substantial the blackness became an all-emcompassing white. Tears in my eyes I squinted and saw that the lights were not far off stars, but atoms. Protons and neutrons intermingled while electrons, ever the introverts, flew just out of reach. Wiggling my body like a worm, I found that I could move myself around. Picking an inviting nucleus I worked my way towards it. As tightly lumped together as they appeared to be, a closer inspection relealed small cracks in their formation that seemed larged enough for me to enter. I had made it this far and return seemed somewhat impossible. There could be no further harm in continuing on.

The particles were smooth to the touch and almost silken, it made a seemingly tight squeeze rather simple. Once inside I was shocked to be assaulted by a visual and aural cacophany of fuzz. Like a television without that's not connected to anything simply emitting a static hiss. I covered my ears and clamped my eyes shut, but nothing could ease the pain.

Then in a flash it was all gone. I was staring at myself staring back at myself. I was here, in whatever place "here" entailed, yet there I was. Undeniably still in my room sitting on the edge of my bed, remote in hand. I tried to reach out to myself, but was blocked by a cold pane of glass. I was inside my television.

Help I screamed out to myself. I didn't hear or maybe I didn't care.

Help.

It may be hard to believe, but Sonic the Hedgehog was once the coolest character to grace a 16-bit cartridge. When Nintendo and Sega were both battling for the hearts, minds, and allowances of impressionable young children across America Sonic was the edgy and mature (please hold your snickering until after I'm done waxing nostalgic) foil to Nintendo's already famous Mario. A man who, ever the whore for attention, had already starred in six massively popular games, a meaty handful of spinoffs, and had popped his moustachioed visage into dozens of seemingly unrelated games for no other reason than a complete lack of anything better to do with his spare time. He's almost like the Samuel L. Jackson of the video game world if you think about it. But I digress.

In an age when platformers were slow and methodical Sonic hit the scene like a nocturnal, underground dwelling rodent, hopped up on speed, and high on the dazzling beauty of giant golden rings. You flew through levels like Michelle Pfeiffer was giving free rim-jobs on the other side of the stage for the next thirty seconds (shut up, she was hot at the time). It wasn't a straight shot across the map though. The levels scrolled significantly upwards and downwards and offered plenty of alternate paths and shortcuts for those willing to experiment. The gameplay was completely original, revolutionary, and fun as hell. No longer were you fighting turtles and slowly ambling mushroom men. Your enemies were evil robots imbued with the vital lifeforce of hearts ripped from the chests of screaming baby animals pinned to cold, steel examination tables. Okay, perhaps that's a bit of an exaggeration, but when you're six it all seems rather nefarious.

As wonderful as the original Sonic was the series didn't come into its own until the sequel was released in 1992. It was prettier, faster, fine-tuned, and constructed better than the original. Every stage was an especial and memorable experience. From the straight forward starting point that was the Emerald Hill Zone, to the addicting slot machines of the ornate Casino Nights Zone, and the cannon filled skies and sticky quicksand-like bottom of the Oil Ocean Zone. Each stage was meticulously designed and detailed. The different routes one could take were even more varied and distinct than the original's. Then, to top it all off, the music in each stage was some of the best in any game at the time. Okay, I will admit that the music in the final few levels might qualify as ear-rape, but the rest is infinitely hummable.

The controls remained mainly the same (run and jump, think you can memorize that?) except for one vital introduction. The now ever-present Spin Dash. In the original, Sonic started moving at a frustrating crawl before accelerating to a blazing blur of blue. Now, one simply had to charge up the Spin Dash and they were smashing through enemies, setting new land-speed records, and nearly out-racing the camera.

Also of note is the appearance of Sonic's young ward and star of many an eyebrow raising fan-fiction, Tails. Usually he was a useless addition resigned to tagging along and being a glutton for punishment during the bonus stages. As soon as you started doing your thing he'd get lost until you slowed down or hit the end of a stage. If you were lucky he might get a few shots in on a boss. Plug in another controller though and a friend could take control of him. Tails still had a hard time keeping up, but it was incredibly fun to have someone helping you make it through the game and giving you that extra needed support.

Future Sonic games may have upped the ante with better graphics, a lock-on cartridge gimmick, and special stages that more closely resemble an acid trip (which have always sucked, Sonic 2 included) before the series was extruded out Sega's asshole and deposited squarely in a toilet in a neat log-shaped chunklet. For me though, the best game in the series will always be Sonic the Hedgehog 2. It created a balance for the series that can only be expanded upon, but never improved; and that my friends is what makes a true classic.

If you enjoyed this retro review check out my reviews archive to read more of my thoughts on various games, movies, and more

Why you want to move so fast.
We don't have to take our clothes off
To have a good time
Oh no
We could dance & party all night
And drink some cherry wine

There are plenty of free games on the internet. Let's, for a moment, focus on one little gem that hails from the tiny island nation of Japan. For five years an artists known only by his internet pseudonym Pixel toiled away crafting one of the most entertaining throwbacks to the era of 16-bit shooters that you can find anywhere.

Cave Story (or Doukutsu Monogatari as it's titled in Japanese) is a hard game to pigeonhole. It's a shooter much in the vein of Mega, but there are exploration elements like a Metroid game, plus an innovative hassel-free psuedo-RPG system for upgrading your weapons. It succeds where many home-brews fail by taking the best elements from other games and bringing them together to create something unique. It doesn't feel like you're retreading old ground.

As the game starts you find yourself alone in a cave. In true Metroid fashion you know nothing about your surroundings, and as you slowly progress you'll find weapons to dispatch the thousands of baddies and punishing bosses you'll come across and meet dozens of characters that will progress the surprisingly interesting plot. As you progress you'll see the polish that makes the game so appealing. Everywhere you go there are secrets, some big, some little. Deviously hidden weapons to acquire, optional bosses to conquer, and a secret hidden final stage that only those with cores of pure titanium with be able to uncover without running to a strategy guide.

The polish doesn't begin and end with the secrets though. Everything in the game feels right. Running and jumping through the games many caves quickly becomes second nature. The risk-reward weapons upgrade system is simple yet offers room for strategy. The bosses are gigantic, challenging, and fun. The level design is consistently varied and well designed.

Is it perfect? No, but as freeware you'd be hard-pressed to fins anything better. Do yourself a favor and check it out.

If you hang around the forums enough you may already know that I'm a hardcore Guitar Hero fanatic. I figured I'd send a call out to everyone on Newgrounds a little bit before it releases. If you're picking it up for the 360 and you want to get your ass kicked online by me then send an Xbox Live friend request to Ed Roony. I might not get a chance to play it on Sunday, but I'll definetly be on all day Monday. Hope I see some of you then.