Anime Reflections: Attack on Titan

I started watching Attack on Titan (or “Shingeki no Kyojin,” as some will insist) a while ago, at which point I blogged about my first impressions. It’s worth noting that those first impressions covered the first eight episodes. This is very important because the events at the end of the eight episodes that I vaguely alluded to were a huge turning point in the show—one that ultimately affected my opinions on the show.

I feel that, overall, the show was mediocre. Not flat-out bad, but it had a lot of problems dragging it down. Of course, as it’s near impossible to explain why without going into specifics, the rest of this post will be filled with spoilers from the first eight episodes.

The first eight episodes of Attack on Titan were very strong. You get to see firsthand the devastation the Titans have wrought. You see how quickly they turn the protagonists’ lives upside down. Then, at the end of episode five, Eren Jaeger (who, up to this point, we have been led to believe is our protagonist) is killed while attempting to save his friend Armin. The show then focuses on his adopted sister Mikasa, Armin, and the rest of the recruits in their first battle. During this time the show begins delving into a theme: the idea that the world is cruel and only the strongest are able to survive. I mentioned this theme in my first impressions post as what seemed to be the overarching theme of the show.

After focusing on Mikasa and Armin for a few episodes, a mysterious Titan begins attacking other Titans. This Titan is revealed in the eighth episode to be a transformed Eren.

This is the moment where the show begins to take a downward spiral. Some things that go wrong:

1. The next six episodes are horribly paced. The two things of note that happen are that Eren moves a rock to block a hole in the wall and is eventually brought into the Scouting Legion. The rest consists of people going “OH NO GUYS EREN’S A TITAN WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO” over and over. It’s not even approached from different angles. It’s just a Mexican Standoff that lacks tension because it’s made fairly obvious that the protagonists will come out on top. While the show does pick up a bit afterwards, it failed to really catch my attention again until the very last episode.

2. Eren can shift back and forth between his human and Titan form. This singlehandedly destroys the theme that existed for the first eight episodes. Suddenly, the humans have a feasible way to fight back. They have a somewhat controllable weapon capable of defeating dozens of Titans. Instead of fighting against the impossible, they’re merely fighting against the unlikely. It cheapens the brutality of the first episodes.

3. Eren also reassumes his role as protagonist. Eren was a spectacular protagonist for the first part of the show. We were really able to feel his helplessness at his personal loss and his determination to fight these odds, no matter how personal. That’s exactly why his death was so powerful: because his rage and determination carried him through, even though he wasn’t the most capable recruit. However, that impact is lost after he becomes a Titan. This would not be as bad if he did not remain a static character. Instead, he ceases to develop. His entire character becomes “I want to destroy all the Titans” with a dash of “I don’t fully understand how this power works” thrown in. He ceases to become relatable, but remains a straightforward and simple character.

4. The other characters are also a problem. The show introduces them in groups and spends very little time actually focusing on them. There are a few who are relatively notable, but everyone else just seems to be there to pad out a roster. When you combine the fact that the characters are so underdeveloped with the nature of the show, you quickly realize that these people are most likely cannon fodder. It’s like George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones series: there are plenty of characters, but you can’t bring yourself to fully care about many of them because they could die at any moment. However, unlike ASoIaF, which takes a great amount of time (perhaps too much time) developing all the characters before Martin kills them off, Attack on Titan is content to just sort of let them exist.

Those are the main issues I have with Attack on Titan at the moment. I have other things I could complain about, but the show needs to be complete before I make a judgment. The two big things right now is that there are a lot of hazy character motivations that make no sense (which I won’t go into in detail because they contain a few things I’ve pieced together from manga spoilers) and that questions are being raised faster than they can be answered. While Attack on Titan is very good at stringing its viewers along with red herrings (which is one of its strong points), it also tends to completely forget about plot points. Early on, Eren has a vision (though from when is uncertain) of his father injecting him with something and giving him a key to his basement, which seems to contain something very important. The first season never touches on this occurrence again. According to friends who read the manga, they’re still waiting on answers regarding the key as well.

Attack on Titan definitely gave me and interesting world full of fun mysteries. What it didn’t give me, however, were good characters, well-paced structure, consistent themes, or, ultimately, a reason to care.

Writing: Don’t Shoot The Messenger’s revised edition!

So, uh…hi. Call me The Messenger. I’m a normal guy working an IT job. Pretty straightforward work, if you discount the fact that I’m working for a cult worshiping some sharp-dressed dimension-warper. So yeah, when I say my coworkers are insane, I mean it literally.

They tell me to lie low and pretend I’m a good little sheep, buying into what they say. Then they bring me the names of dead people to enter into a database, with no context of who they are or why they died. They can’t keep me in the dark forever, though. I’ll figure out what’s going on here eventually. Keep a record of what I find, just in case something happens to me. Maybe I can put together the pieces and get the word out, even if it’s just one person. Maybe that person will be you.

But if you don’t like what you find? Don’t get mad at me. I’m just calling things like I see them.

Don’t Shoot The Messenger.

If you know me and haven’t just stumbled across this blog, here are some things you might know about me, ordered from most likely to least likely:

I am a fan of the Slender Man Mythos. I have written several works set within the mythos. One of these works was called Don’t Shoot The Messenger. And now, I’m completely overhauling DSTM and putting it in a more accessible and publishable format.

This rewrite isn’t finished yet, but I have a fair amount of content and a definite plan. Of course, I’d normally hold of on posting something like this unless it was still in the conceptual phase or until things were more set in stone, but there’s something that’s happened that’s made me decide to blog about it briefly: the story is currently a serial publication in my university’s web paper. You can read the first part here if you want. The rest (when it’s published) will probably be under the “Arts & Entertainment” category.

This is a pretty big thing for me, as it gives me the chance to grow my audience a little bit. So naturally, I’ve been shamelessly promoting it anywhere I can. Or “networking,” Yeah, I think “networking” is the professional term for that.

I’m planning on releasing the story as an e-book once I’ve finished it. Until now, though, I’ll hope you’ll join me on my journey as I once again enter the world of business suits, weaboos, and 21st century psycho cults.

Gaming Reflections: Bastion

Sometimes, after you finish a story, it makes you sit down and think. Ironically, it's not the stories with the explicit messages that do this to me. Elfen Lied just made me feel dirty (though the show's poor quality might have had something to do with that), and while I found Spec Ops: the Line emotional and powerful, it didn't prompt any further reflection from me beyond what the game itself said.

Bastion, on the other hand, was brought to what I think was a good, solid conclusion. It was just a conclusion that left me craving more rather than feeling satisfied.

Bastion is the story of a kid (known only as "the Kid") who finds himself as one of the only survivors of an apocalyptic event called the Calamity. His journey is narrated by an old man named Rucks, the only other survivor of his race. Rucks charges the Kid to help build the Bastion, a safe haven that has the power to undo the Calamity. The Kid also meets two other survivors of the Calamity, Zulf and Zia, who are members of the Ura race (as opposed to the Kid and Rucks, who are Caelondian). As the plot progresses, Zulf abandons the Bastion and leads the remaining Ura against it, after which the dark history of the Calamity and Rucks' involvement in it is revealed. The Bastion offers the possibility of hope, but also the possibility of more despair, and it is up to the player to make the decision of whether or not to actually activate the Bastion.

What makes Bastion such a powerful game is its narrative design. First of all, you play as the Kid, but the story is actually narrated by Rucks. Rucks has a rich, gravelly, soothing voice that I can only describe as "sexy cowboy." This choice does a lot for the game. It helps introduce the stylistic, frontier-style tone of the game from the very beginning. In addition, much of Rucks' narration is reactionary, with what he says based on what the Kid does rather than the other way around. Rucks is also able to use his narrative to seamlessly provide exposition on the world and what exactly is happening in an unobtrusive way. This choice allows for a structured plot while still giving the player agency. It puts control of the story in the player's hands and allows them to identify more strongly with the Kid--which is vital to Bastion.

The second thing that makes Bastion powerful is the world. The world of Bastion is visually dynamic, but the level design creates the feeling of a broken and empty world. This is partially because the world, as it is portrayed, is literally broken. As the Kid moves, the world begins to reform around his feet. It is filled with junk and rubble, and there are indications that it was a lush and rich world before the Calamity. In addition, there is an incredible sense of loss and emptiness. In the beginning, the Kid and Rucks are the only characters who show up at the Bastion. All other Caelondians are seen only as fossilized statues. When you encounter one of these statues the first time (and inevitably smash it), Rucks' response is a wry and darkly amusing "He always did want his ashes scattered in his bar." When the Kid actively goes searching for survivors, however, he encounters statue after statue. As you encounter them, Rucks lists off their names, followed by "didn't make it." The sense of loss is automatic, frustrating, and overwhelming. When the Kid encounters Zulf at the end of the level, he is in shock and near catatonic, meaning that even the survivor you do find is, in a sense, lifeless. It provides a very strong sense that you, as the Kid, are alone in the world, the weight of the future entirely on your shoulders. The feeling is a powerful one and allows players to understand much of the Kid's character solely through empathy.

This desolation and lifelessness provides great emphasis to the lively parts of the game. In contrast to the crumbling world of Caelondia, the Bastion is a solid place of hope, and it's easy to become very attached to it early on (in fact, revelations about the nature of the Bastion and the Calamity are accompanied by physical damage to it, making it appear more broken as our own perceptions of it begin to change). The Bastion is a broad example, but there are also two specific examples that come to mind. The first is when the player finds Zia. After feeling so alone in an empty world, the background music begins to shift. Rucks' narration fades out as the lyrics start. Suddenly, the BGM is not music, but a song, full of life. That's where the Kid finds Zia, alive and relatively well, playing harp by a pool of water. It feels like a huge success, rather than the Pyrrhic victory that finding Zulf was. The other specific example is when the monsters of the world begin creating their own Bastion. The player is fairly invested in saving the Bastion at this point, and it's heartbreaking to see the monsters attempting to create a safe haven when you know you'll need to destroy it for the greater good. To create life in a desolate world, you're forced to take it away.

In terms of the game's actual writing and plot, the story is full of themes of loss, regret, revenge, and hope. The Kid is a boy whose whole life has been filled with loneliness and hardship, even before he became humanity's last hope after the Calamity. Zulf's discovery of the Calamity's sinister history drives him towards anger and revenge. Rucks, as a man who had a hand in the Calamity, regrets his decision and is obsessed with the Bastion's potential to let him change his mistakes. And Zia, despite the hardship she suffers, is determined to move forward, doing what she can and holding out hope for a brighter future. These motives drive all the characters fairly strongly, and the Kid has to deal with all of them throughout the game. The Kid's loss and Zulf's vengeance drive much of the game's plot, as they have both experienced great loss, and that loss drives their vengeance later in the game. When Zulf's zealotry ultimately causes the other Ura to turn on him, the Kid is forced to make a choice: continue with his revenge, or abandon his ultimate weapon and save Zulf, leaving himself defenseless in the process. Interestingly, almost all players decide to save Zulf. They are rewarded with a scene where the Ura notice the Kid's decision and slowly stop attacking him. I don't know what happens if you don't decide to save him. I never made that decision.

The ultimate decision comes down not to vengeance or loss, but to Ruck's regret vs. Zia's hope. If you activate the Bastion, will the Calamity be prevented? There's a chance of it happening again, but is the attempt to prevent it worth that cost? Or should we just accept the past as it is, break free of the cycle of tragedy, and try to move on? The decision is left to the Kid, and consequently, the player.

All these themes, all these nuances of story--they're powerful because they're not explicit. They're lurking just below the surface, and while the game seems to take a definite stance on several of the questions it raises, it also invites the players to decide for themselves. Some characters aren't exactly right, but Bastion never gives you the impression that they're wrong. The game invites you to become the Kid and to make your own decision. I think that's the thing that left such a strong impression on me: that it invited me to question the choices I made, and then offer suggestions rather than answers.

To close, here's Zia's theme, since it's beautiful. Check out the rest of the soundtrack too, as it is equally marvelous.

Gaming Reflections: Gone Home

Hey, everyone! It’s been ages since I’ve actually bothered to write anything, huh?

Anyway, I’m here to talk about a game I played called “Gone Home.” I first heard about it in my narrative design class and it looked vaguely creepy but with a feel-good 90’s vibe, and I heard a few recommendations that were pretty much just “play this,” so I was looking forward to playing it.
When I actually played it, I was actually less than impressed.

Gone Home focuses on a girl named Katie who has gone home (I get it!) after visiting Europe. However, she arrives home sooner than her family expects, and she returns to an empty house. From there, the goal is to explore the empty house to figure out where her family has gone and why. Players discover who the family is through Katie’s interactions with the environment of the house.

That’s what the game is about in theory. In reality, it’s a bit different.

Let’s start with what I liked about the game. First of all, it did well at telling a story through the environment, and at building a realistic environment. It feels like a real house, and while several bits of matching furniture personally make me raise an eyebrow, the family is implied to be fairly well-off. If they want to get identical ornate cabinets, they probably could. The game manages to maintain a sense of non-linearity while simultaneously guiding the player through linear sections. In that sense, it did what it was supposed to and worked. The atmosphere was also decent, and while the music didn’t leave much of a lasting impression, it worked well enough and gave the game a particular flavor that helped counteract the whole “creepy empty house” thing.

In addition, there are a lot of things to love about the storytelling. I liked how I was left to put the pieces together from notes and the environment. Learning of the father’s struggles with writing through letters from his publishers and boxes of empty books was good. The unspoken implications in the communications between the mother and her coworker say volumes about the state of their marriage. The personalities of Katie, Sam, and Lonnie come through really well through the things they’ve written. There are a few things that made me smile just because the comedic interactions felt so real and true. They were friends/family joking around with each other, and you got a good sense of that.

So that’s what Gone Home did right. Now let’s talk about what it did wrong and why it left me unimpressed.

One issue I had with Gone Home was the whole “pick anything up” thing. It’s a double-edged sword. On one hand, it’s nice to be able to look at a few personal items more closely and to be able to move things around. On the other hand, there is absolutely no point to being able to pick up pencils or packs of toilet paper. A lot of things that can be examined are completely arbitrary, and I don’t like being given the option to muck around with things that aren’t important. If you give me the option to take all the food out of the freezer and chuck it all over the kitchen, I’m going to want to do so. Also, give me the achievement for finishing the game while holding a banana.

But that’s nitpicking. I could also nitpick the fact that there was pretty much no gameplay, which is why the “pick stuff up” mechanic seemed so prominent, but nitpicking that isn’t really the point since Gone Home is really more of an interactive story than a game. The real issue with the game is in the story. I mentioned earlier how I liked piecing the little scraps of story together. The game initially seemed to be an exercise in the principle of “show, don’t tell” when applied to stories in games. While there is definite value to telling when utilized properly, I really respected that Gone Home was trying to tell a story with as little text as possible. And then it completely destroyed that principle it had set up.

There is one story that is pushed to the forefront of Gone Home, and it is Sam’s character arc. Certain notes will trigger narration from Sam, elaborating on the story. This makes it clear that Sam’s arc and Sam’s arc alone is the one that matters. The father’s writing aspirations and the mother’s marital struggles are treated as unimportant. Instead, the important story is Sam coming to terms with her sexuality and her relationship with Lonnie.

While Sam and Lonnie are certainly interesting characters, their story is not particularly good. It’s stock “rebellious teen” stuff, and the ending (in which Lonnie goes AWOL from the military and Sam abandons her potential college career so the two can run off together, stealing a lot of valuables from the family in the process) is played as a heartwarming romance. However, past the surface level, it is the story of two young adults potentially ruining their lives because they think with their hearts instead of their heads. This is presumably supposed to be sweet solely because the relationship is a same-sex one. Make it a heterosexual relationship, and the characters’ youthful stupidity become much more noticeable. Are we really supposed to be cheering for these shortsighted and self-centered characters, just because of their star-crossed relationship?

Gone Home seems to have confused “hot-button issue” for “good writing.” I’ll admit that, as someone who comes from a conservative background and holds a lot of moderate political views, my opinions may be a bit biased, but I felt that much of Gone Home was just a heavy-handed political statement (as an aside, if my stance on such things truly matters to how seriously you take my opinions on the game’s writing, you can find my in-depth opinions here). But anyway, that brief digression aside, Gone Home got pretty blatant about things, sometimes at the expense of actual writing. The initial “abandoned house” set-up is a clear bait-and-switch that can feel a bit manipulative to some, the arcs of characters other than Sam and Lonnie are—as I’ve already mentioned—brushed aside as “not important enough,” and even some elements of the story itself get heavy-handed. I can forgive some things that seem like stock LGBT issues just because I’m sure those are stock issues for a reason, but the bit of Sam’s writing where her character’s love interest is given a magical sex change in an obvious metaphor for her coming to terms with her sexuality? This sort of transparent self-insertion is the sort of writing I’m legitimately expected to believe is coming from someone who wants to go into creative writing?

So overall, I found Gone Home to be a decent exercise in environmental storytelling and character development, but little more. On those two counts, it was incredibly strong. The soundtrack was fitting enough but unmemorable, the lack of actual game mechanics made issues with existing mechanics more noticeable. The “show, don’t tell” storytelling was wonderfully done, but putting emphasis on a single story over the others did more harm than good, especially since the story it chose to focus on did not have a particularly strong narrative. It was ultimately a very stock romantic story with a “but they’re lesbians” tacked on, and I think it detracted from what was otherwise a great experiment in storytelling. Personally, I don’t get the praise. I think that the praise is, again, largely because of the tendency of people to mistake topical statements for quality. It’s artistic, but “artistic” does not mean “inherently good.” I think from an objective standpoint, Gone Home is above mediocre at best, with its strong aspects dragged down by its weaker ones. In addition, it is incredibly short (2 hours long at best, 2 minutes long at worst), and is in no way worth the $20 dollar price tag--meaning that, unless you're able to get it on sale, there's really no good reason to buy it.

I guess it just goes to say, anything can get called a masterpiece as long as it’s about gay cowboys eating pudding.

Anime First Impressions: Silver Spoon

I’ve been watching a lot of bad anime lately, for some weird masochistic reason. I tried starting a few series, but didn’t really get into them. Then I found out about an anime airing this season called Silver Spoon. “Oh,” I said to myself, “It’s all about agriculture.” As a farm boy, that interested me. It was a familiar concept, yet it’d be a bit unique since it was about agriculture in Japan, rather than America. Then I found out it was written by the same woman who wrote Fullmetal Alchemist (Hiromu Arakiwa), and my expectations for it shot through the roof. So far, they haven’t really disappointed.

In terms of genre, Silver Spoon is about as far from Fullmetal Alchemist as possible. It’s a slice-of-life story about Yugo Hachiken, a guy who, in an attempt to get away from his parents (the exact reasons are unclear at the point I’m at), attends a school far away from his home. This school happens to have an agricultural focus, meaning that this is basically a fish-out-of-water tale about a city slicker among country bumpkins. This gives Arikawa, a farm girl herself, the ability to go into detail about how exactly farms work.

Hachiken has a lot of really sensible attitudes to a lot of the things farmers take for granted. He has a near breakdown when he finds out that chicken eggs come out of the anus. He starts to grow attached to the runt of a litter of pigs, despite knowing it will probably end up as food (which is why he’s advised to name the pig “pork bowl”). He misestimates the importance of daily chores. His reactions to the stranger aspects of farm life are where a lot of humor (and drama!) comes from, but also allow exposition on how exactly that life works.

Arikawa, unsurprisingly, does wonderfully with the portrayal of farmers and farm life. All the farms themselves are different, varying in size and structure, but most all the farmers hold similar values in life. It goes into the details of small family farms and super-sized ones.

The characters themselves are great. Some are a bit nonstandard, like the Buddha-like advisor of the equestrian club or the diminutive principal of the academy. And, of course, Arikawa does hold that, in her own words “Men should be beefy! Women should be vavoom!” Interestingly, the stockiest female character is actually one of my favorites, since she’s so on top of everything. Hachiken himself is a good character, as he’s constantly developing. And, of course, there’s his love interest. Their relationship seems to be developing organically, and Aki is an interesting character on her own. The focus seems to be less on “can Hachiken land this girl,” and more on “will Hachiken become the sort of guy she would see as worth marrying?” There’s been a strong emphasis on how important family is to farmers, and I like seeing a relationship that puts so much emphasis on the future.

Finally, the story has a lot of great themes. The title comes from (and this is from memory) a proverb/legend/tradition that babies are given a silver spoon, so that they will never go hungry. To me, it seems like it’s some sort of metaphor for self-sufficiency. Times will be tough for some of these characters’ families. But they’ll at least have what they need to get by. Another theme is the importance of dreams (in which sense it’s kind of like One Piece if everyone was a farmer instead of a pirate). And finally, there’s a running theme about the paradox of both loving animals and raising them to be eaten. Speaking from experience, it’s really hard to explain or understand. You kind of have to grow up with that mindset, but Silver Spoon attempts to explain it.

Basically, for someone who grew up on the farm, Silver Spoon is an incredibly nostalgic and charming anime. It seems like it’s got a pretty niche audience, and I’m not sure how many people would love it. But hey, if it’s sounds like something you’d like, please check it out!

TV Analysis: Siberia Episode 7

Well, folks, I’ve heard that there are thirteen episodes in this season, and we’re at the halfway point.
If episodes 1-3 set things up, episodes 4 and 5 kicked the plot into gear, and episode 6 provided some exposition, then episode 7 was an emotionally hard-hitting episode. Nearly all the conflict in this episode was from internal elements instead of mysterious external sources, which made a bit of a nice change of pace.

I’m going to be restructuring these posts a bit this week, since I don’t think that the show will be introducing plot points at a mile a minute anymore. Things are pretty set now, and the proportion of elements introduced to elements wrapped up is probably going to shift in the other direction in a few episodes.

So before going into this episode, here’s….

Where We Stand

I’m going to provide a brief summary of what we can be probably at least 70% certain of what’s happened in the first five episodes, for the sake of clarity (for readers and myself both).
There are currently ten (or eleven—I’m still not convinced Natalie is really gone) characters hanging around. The others are probably safe and sound (save Tommy), having successfully left the show. However, Irene has been injured, and the entire production team has mysteriously vanished. Currently, about half of the remaining contestants are taking care of her, and half are hiking towards the light of a radio tower in the distance.

There have been some really weird and creepy things going on in the Siberian wilderness that border on the supernatural or extraterrestrial. The sky lit up one night, and two contestants stumbled out of the forest in states of disrepair, unaware of what exactly had happened. There’s some sort of face carved into a tree, which one contestant has taken to conversing with. He calls the tree “Ogdy,” a name he seems to have pulled from thin air, but is in reality the name of a sky god whose face is, in fact, frequently carved into trees. And on top of that, there seems to be some creature out in the woods—something unlike anything we know.

In addition, the contestants have to deal with the more mundane Evenki (and/or the Valleymen). They know about the Evenki after a few potential encounters and after finding the diary of Leonid Kulik, explorer of something called the Tunguska Event, a mysterious event in the Tunguska region of Siberia that lines up chronologically with the disappearance of the former settlers of the area in 1908. These Evenki are hostile, and appear to be able to spirit their victims away, leaving few traces (though this may be some other force). The Evenki also appear to hostile towards whatever creature is out in the woods.

Finally, the mundane is tied to the supernatural with a symbol: the cuneiform sign for “dingir,” used to denote a deity and having relations to the sky or heavens. The symbol appears to be made of four lines that make a sort of asterisk or compass rose, though the four tips from “southwest” to “north” have inward-pointing arrows. This symbol is found carved into trees leading to Kulik’s diary, in the diary itself, and most recently, carved into one of the contestant’s arms. It seems to be a key force in driving the contestant insane, and probably has some sort of link to Ogdy.

The production team seems to have had some sort of ulterior motive. Clearly they knew about the location’s history. How could they not have? What’s more, the “Revealer” seems to imply that they were conducting some sort of psychological experiment, and that they had run this experiment before. However, things seem to have gone south, as most of the production team is dead and/or missing after an attack on their base camp.

That’s about where we stand in how everything relates to each other, best I can tell. We can’t be sure of the specifics at this point, and I’m not sure how the jammed signal or the radio tower tie into things at this point….

“I’ve been trying to get out of the Siberian wilderness for sixteen years….”

No! No, dammit! I don’t want to keep making these LOST references! Quit making them so easy!

The Story

Okay, let’s move on. What happened this episode?

1. Crash and Burn

The Hikers (thanks to official Siberia social media for giving us the handy “Hikers/Settlers” terms to refer to the two groups by) find the door to the helicopter that took people off the show. They try to get to da find the rest of the chopper, discovering that it appears to have exploded out of the sky.
Also of note is Carolina cradling some sort of binder with Jonathan Buckley (the host’s name) written on it. Did they have some sort of connection? Is he dead (probably)?

2. Let it Snow

Snow hit suddenly and hard! This is fairly low on the whole “supernatural whatevers” scale, but it’s a great way to produce all sorts of conflict! Now the contestants have to find ways to stay warm and to keep those who can’t really help themselves (i.e., Irene) stay warm. The Hikers also faces huge challenges, since they don’t have access to what the first group has access to. Also, it sets up pretty much everything that happens in this episode.

3. Questions of God

Annie (finally) got some good character development this week, as we got to see some more of her backstory. The important bit is that she was raised Catholic, but is an atheist. Irene, meanwhile, seems to believe in some greater force. One of the more striking lines of dialogue this episode was an exchange of two equally piercing questions:

Annie: “After all that’s happened here, how could there be a God?”

Irene: “After all that’s happened here…how could there not?”

Clearly, with the info sharp-eyed fans have drudged up on Ogdy and that dingir marking, there are clearly references to deities of some sort. This exchange very clearly reinforced that, yes, these bits of information are important. Whether it’s the hand of some (likely malevolent) deity or just something supernatural that seems celestial to the contestants, religion in some form is going to play a big part in the second half of Siberia. Great foreshadowing.

Edit: Also worth noting here is that, when they get the Revealer open (see #4), Sabina mutters "Elohim." I've studied Christian long enough to know immediately that's the Herbrew word for God, and that Sabina is probably Jewish or Christian and giving thanks. Again, a strong nod to religion in this episode.

4. Do You Recall What Was Revealed?

Esther finds a key to the Revealer at the producers’ camp. This nets the Settlers some much-needed supplies, such as sleeping pills, vodka, food, matches, etc. Of course, at the end, we find out that she took something from the Revealer before she shared what she found to everyone else, that Miljan knows exactly what it was, and that it’s something important enough that he can blackmail her over it.

5. My Bad Foot is Certainly an Ice-breaker at Parties

The Hikers have to cross a stream to get to the tower, and they make it through with little incident. There’s one small problem, and that’s that one of Sam’s feet goes through the ice. No big deal, except for the fact that they still have a long walk through the snow and no way to get the foot dry. Sam’s foot ends up getting very severe frostbite, and he seems to be slipping into a pretty critical condition—hypothermia? At the end of the episode, Johnny and Joyce have managed to find him shelter and enough dry wood for a fire, but he’s still not in a very good place.

6. Miljan’s Still Crazy, BTW

Yeah, that’s not a thing that stopped being true. He’s gone from “creepy” to “downright murderous,” though, as he claims that they need to put Irene down before she suffers more, and even attempts murder, claiming “she was begging me to do it.” While unconscious. In a way that Annie couldn’t hear. Somehow.

Needless to say, Neeko is not pleased.

I will never get tired of these

The Settlers tie him up, but the end of the episode seems to imply that he’s escaped from his bonds with Esther’s help….

7. “Oh my God.”

NBC, you teases! The episode ends on this line from Neeko. The context? After Miljan tries blackmailing Esther into letting her go, Irene disappears. Neeko utters the line after looking in the cabin Miljan had been staying in. Considering that Miljan may very well be on the loose and he had previously attempted to kill Irene, this is one hell of a cliffhanger. What did he see? What did he see?

Everyone’s Prospects

Johnny and Joyce are still pretty set. Daniel and Sabina seem like they’ll be around for a while too, though Daniel’s chances are a bit lower at this point.

Neeko and Annie are interesting, as I thought they were fallen leader and red shirt archetypes. However, despite my guesses, they’re still alive. That, coupled with Annie’s much-needed character development this episode, means that, at this point, they could go either way. They’re still not as tied into the plot as most of the other characters, but they’re still relevant and have a strong presence.
Miljan is still in it for the long haul as well. Esther is also probably going to be around for a while, but I’m still pretty sure that neither is actually going to survive the series.

Right now, it’s Sam, Irene, and Natalie that we have to worry about, since the status of all three is unknown (I still say that the official site is lying by listing Natalie under “Quit”). Sam’s condition is critical, and we don’t know if he can recover. Irene has disappeared and may already be dead, as it could easily be her body that Neeko found at the end of the episode. And like I said, the jury’s still out on Natalie’s whereabouts.

And this is the part where I’d normally go into “lingering questions,” but I think I covered most all of that in the “Where We Stand” bit. I should maybe move that to the end next time.

Anyway! A few odds and ends! This post was later this week because I’ve been busy with an upcoming return to college for the school year. It shouldn’t hamper my ability to write at all (I’ll actually be spending more time in front of the computer), but since classes start Monday, my analysis might be late next week too.

Anyway, as always, check out NBC by skh and trashtalkTV for more (though the latter seems to be a few episodes behind), and let me know if you find anyone else who does cool Siberia stuff. It’s also a good idea to check the cast out on Twitter, because they interact with the fans and each other plenty!

TV Analysis: Siberia Episode 6

Hey, everyone! Andy here again, to overanalyze the best show you’re not watching (unless you actually are). This past week, I’ve discovered that three of my cousins are watching Siberia, and between us, we may have converted a mutual friend as well. Huzzah!

So last week was what’s described as a “Wham Episode,” an episode in which something really, really shocking and important that drastically changes the direction of things happens. Episode 6 was more of a “Breather Episode,” though it was more “let the action cool down so the audience can catch their breath” than “lighthearted episode to calm the audience down after a drastic turn of events.” Episode 6 was largely devoted to tying up some loose story threads a little better, meaning that it was probably a more important episode for the sort of people who don’t write out

Oh, by the way, enjoy spending the rest of the day stuck at TV Tropes.

Anyway.

New Story Threads

There really weren’t too many new story threads this week, but there were a few.

1. Test Group C

When Sam and Johnny push over the Revealer (which is apparently more rectangular prism and less cube than I thought), they’re able to get a look inside, revealing (no pun intended) that it’s on a set timer and that no one’s controlling it. But more importantly, a Russian note describes the device as a “Behavior Reward Simulator” for “test group C.” I want to say that “behavior reward simulator” gives me Pavlov vibes, but on second thought, that was classical conditioning and this sounds like operant conditioning (i.e., carrot and stick as opposed to stimulus and response. Or something. It’s been too long since I’ve taken an actual psychology class). Either way, there’s obviously some science experiment going on. The question is, who were test groups A and B? They probably exist in separate locations, but the Revealer could have been changed between groups. So do test groups A and B exist at the same time? Did they exist previously? What exactly was the experiment, and who was carrying it out? Why aren’t we seeing these other test groups being videotaped?

2. Get to the Tower

Last week’s theory about the Slender Man isn’t looking so crazy anymore, is it? So while Daniel is in the woods, he sees this light. It looks to be like it’s from some sort of radio tower, and at the end of the episode, he, Sam, Johnny, and Carolina take off to try to see what’s there and attempt to get Irene help. We don’t get much of anything to go off of this episode, though, because of….

3. The Crater

This one should not be a shock to any viewers who know about the Tunguska event. I’m sure that everyone who does not know about the Tunguska event, however, is scratching their heads. Those who do not know about the Tunguska event should click that little red link that says “Tunguska event” so that they can read about the Tunguska event and be enlightened.

4. The Stark Words

This isn’t really a big one. It’s just more apparent that it’s getting colder and colder. That’s right, everyone: winter is coming.

And with that taken care of (told you there wasn’t much), let’s move on to….

Character Arcs

We got some pretty good development from Esther, who’s finally (maybe) starting to turn things around after some advice from Sam, who’s been stepping more and more into the “father” role of the group. Esther apologizes to Irene, though Irene just sort of turns away.

Daniel also gets some decent development when we hear about his backstory. He’s incredibly torn up right now because he and his old girlfriend were jumped in the city. He ran, and she got stabbed six times, killing her. So basically, he hates himself for his cowardice and is terrified of something happening to Irene.

As we see more and more of Sabina, she actually seems more and more normal. She’s just a survivalist. Of course, there are still plenty of questions about her, though. I’m expecting to see more of her in the future.

It’s Miljan who really gets the development, though. He enters the cabin where Irene is sleeping alone, and covers the camera with his jacket, preventing us from seeing what exactly he did to her (rape? physical assault? forcible tattooing?). He later attempts to physically assault Sam when Sam discovers the journal. He’s really gone off the deep end now.

Things have remained mostly static for all the other characters, though, which is less and less good for Annie, who doesn’t seem to have much of any sort of character arc yet. At least she’s getting screentime, though.

Everyone’s Prospects

After four episodes with no deaths and one disappearance, I’m not about to start putting anyone into “won’t die,” “might die,” and especially not “will die” categories, and I’m definitely not going to go with some sort of elimination order.

But that doesn’t mean that I can’t still try to calculate everyone’s chances!

We’ve gotten some pretty good reaffirmation that Daniel, Joyce, Johnny, and Sam are sort of our protagonists, since they’re the ones who tried getting Irene to the helicopter and the ones who took off for the tower. They have active roles and are consciously driving the plot.

Miljan is probably going to be around for a while, though I’m pretty sure there’ll be a climatic battle against him where he’ll be killed. I’m also sure Sabina will be around for a while to clear up all the lingering questions about her, though I’m not sure what her chances of surviving the series are.

Natalie is a pretty sure bet to at least reappear, though I don’t know whether she’ll be alive or dead. The only other option I can think of for the purpose of her sudden disappearance was that she and the someone on the show had some sort of falling out, and judging by her positive response to the show on Twitter, that seems unlikely. So yeah, we’ll probably at least see something of her again.

And at this point, Neeko, Irene, Annie, and Esther could go either way in terms of living or surviving. Neeko and Annie because they don’t presently have any noticeable arcs, Irene because a good part of the current plot is the question of whether she’ll get help before she dies, and Esther because, now that the game is over and she has no “player” arc, the only route her character can go is the redemption route, and that often ends in death (and here you thought you had escaped TV Tropes!). I think that Esther is guaranteed at least just a little time for us to see a noticeable, genuine turnaround, though pretty much everyone else could go at any time and it’d work with the narrative.

Okay, now for the big one. The

Lingering Questions

Lots of good stuff this week, as we’re getting some good follow-up and exposition.

1. What happened to the base camp?

I was apparently incorrect in thinking that production just jumped ship and took off because “screw the contestants,” considering that they find blood (but no bodies). There’s not a ton of blood, so I’m thinking no everyone died, but it’s likely that those are where the gunshots came from. As for where they went—I’m not sure. But I think the Evenki were maybe responsible? I’m gonna go with “not Sabina” since we see her when the gunshots are going off elsewhere.

2. The Jounral

Sam gets his hands on Miljan’s journal (which is how he finds out about the Evenki), and the first thing he reads in it is that the first entry is signed by someone called Kulik. More real-world history! Cool! Anyway, Leonid Kulik lead the first research expedition to check out that Tunguska Event thing. So the journal was not from 1908 but 1921 (when Kulik’s expedition took place). That still leaves several questions, of course: who buried it? Why was it buried? Is it what’s driving Miljan insane, and if so, why?

3. Miljan’s Gone Crazy

Speaking of Miljan, if he went off the deep end last episode, he’s continued swimming downward in this one. He physically assaults Sam when he finds out the man found the journal, and he places his coat over the camera when he’s alone with Irene. In addition, the symbol is more clearly revealed to be the Anu symbol (which we apparently saw last episode but I didn’t notice). Also, by this point, I’m pretty sure that he did intentionally lead Irene into that trap, since not only did he know where to find a perfectly stationary deer, but he does something™ to Irene afterwards, gets his Anu Tattoo (hehehe—it rhymes) in tribute to her, and decides to “definitely stay” with Irene instead of going to the tower. So why exactly is this guy not setting off red flags for everyone everywhere again?

But let’s get off of Miljan again and back to the stuff we found out from Kulik’s Journal.

3. The Spearmen Evenki

No longer will I be calling these folks the Spearmen, as they’re probably the Evenki (and/or the Valleymen, though what they are isn’t quite clear yet). Sam helpfully informs us that they’re probably responsible for the spear that was left outside their door and the trap that got Irene. A quick browsing of the Wikipedia article, however, says that the Evenki tend to be against defiling killed animals, and sticking a deer head on a stake sounds fairly defile-ish to me. Artistic license, or foreshadowing? I dunno (I’m leaning towards the former but I might be wrong), though I’m sure we’ll find out eventually. And if we don’t, it’s definitely the former. Also, I’m pretty sure at this point that the little girl Sabina encountered is an Evenki girl. As sure as fellow Siberia blogger Shayla Heavner is that she’s got some connection to Berglind or Natalie due to her appearance, but I’m still rooted firmly in the “coincidence” camp on that matter. Guess we’ll find out who’s right eventually.

4. Who has the gun?

Well, Janie’s got a we still have no answer, but the answer is “not Sabina.” We’ve gone through most everyone else, so the only real options at this point are Natalie (unlikely), someone who left (possibly including Natalie and also unlikely), or, most likely, none of the cast members.

That’s all I can think of that was directly touched upon, but I’m going to lay down a few

Random Thoughts

as well. Some are theories, some are random tidbits, some are important information, but they don’t really fit anywhere else.

Anu’s Symbol and Ogdy

The compass thing that Miljan found carved on the trees and later found carved in his arm (by himself) appears to be ancient Sumerian cuneiform for “Dingir,” or “An,” which I think is another name for sky-god Anu (Wikipedia: scholarly source of champions!). Of course, since the latter page was pointed out to me first, I’m gonna call it Anu’s Symbol. Anyway, the point being made here is that there’s an association between it and the sky. A link to the Green Sky? The real question is this: what does Sumerian cuneiform have to do with Siberia and the Tunguska event?

Also, Hulu’s subtitles have informed me that Ogdee’s name is spelled Ogdee. Other sources have informed me that it’s most likely spelled Ogdy. Whoops! Ogdy is ALSO a god, one whose face the Evenki apparently carve into trees.

So basically there’s a chance that some gods are involved in this—or at least some things mistaken as gods.

That Show

Daniel and Carolina once more have a brief discussion about “that show” that Carolina was on, where she played “that character.” I just find it hilarious that, since the show most probably doesn’t exist, they’re going out of their way to avoid naming it. In fact, I’m going to assume that the show is actually called “That Show.”

Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey

So there’s some indications that some weird time stuff is going on in the Siberian wilderness. Like Sabina’s necklace on some skeleton. That’s a theory I put forth last time and other people have as well. It’s a possibility.

Send in the Clones

That’s the other idea I’ve got for Sabina’s necklace on the skeleton: clones. This theory is based more around the “Test Group C” bit. Perhaps they retain some memories of the “originals’” lives? I dunno. But if you’re doing test groups, you’d try to keep the constants as, well, constant as possible. Perhaps Carolina was just the variable in the experiment? The questions then are how and why.

Well, that’s all I’ve got for this episode. Hopefully things pick back up some more next week now that we’ve all had time to breathe! Again, check out Trash Talk TV for some amusing recaps and NBC by skh for some good, thoughtful theories! And stop by next week for another analysis here at DaLadybugProductions!