→ January 4, 2011
→ By

Tinkers and The Optimist’s Daughter.

Paul Harding’s Tinkers and Eudora Welty’s The Optimist’s Daughter are both short, Pulitzer Prize-winning novels of grief and troubled family history, told from different perspectives and set in wildly different scenes. I wouldn’t say I enjoyed either of them, although in a direct comparison I’d take Welty’s folksy Southern prose over Harding’s more ponderous New England style.

Tinkers (still on sale for $5.98 at the moment) tells the story from inside the head of its protagonist as he lies on his death bed, running through his thoughts during the final hours of his life, thoughts that run to his father and his father’s father, both of whom came to earlier, more tragic ends. There’s a running theme of clocks, with wordy, dull passages from an old manual on clock manufacture and repair, but the relevance of those sections was completely lost on me. The book earned a laudatory cover quote from Marilynne Robinson, one of the great masters of American prose today, but I didn’t see Harding coming near to the standard she set with her Pulitzer Prize winner, Gilead in prose or story, as tragic as it was. The one passage that stood out was the description of the grandfather’s descent into dementia as a physical disappearance, that he slowly faded out of sight, something that would have been the basis for an outstanding short story but was an afterthought of a few pages in this work.

The Optimist’s Daughter begins with the title character, Laurel, leaving Chicago to be at her father’s side as he heads in for what should be a routine operation on a diseased eye, but something goes awry during his recovery and he dies, leaving Laurel back in her old hometown with her overgrown-child stepmother and the circle of friends Laurel left when she moved to Chicago. The stepmother, Fay, is extraordinarily selfish and immature and her presence on the pages is shrill and infuriating, as she’s just a foil for Laurel’s journey toward greater self-awareness. Laurel, meanwhile, has first to sit through the funeral and the visits of old friends who rehash her father’s life, at times puncturing her gilded memories of her father and her late mother and their picture-perfect marriage that was anything but. She then finds herself alone in the house for several days before Fay’s return, ultimately looking through some of her father’s things and old papers to get an even greater understanding of her own family heritage, eventually experiencing a catharsis over a butcher-block bread board her own late husband had made as a gift for her mother but which Fay has defaced through her own ignorance.

If anything, The Optimist’s Daughter is too short, as no character but Laurel has any depth, and her path through the house seems so light on detail that it was hard to see how she was deriving any insight or solace from much of what she saw or learned. It was an easy read, with Southern prose that reminded me somewhat of Toni Morrison despite the difference in race between the authors and characters, but felt insubstantial at the end.

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→ December 31, 2010
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Ingenious app.

I’m starting to feel like the president of the Reiner Knizia Fan Club, as I’ve raved about two games he designed, the card game Lost Cities and the Samurai app (an adaptation of a board game he published in 1998). I’ll now do the same about (the app for Ingenious, another award-winning board game that is a perfect candidate for adaptation because the machine can ensure the scoring is done accurately. And since Ingenious plays very quickly, it’s become my go-to app when I know I have just a few minutes for a quick game. At $1.99 for iPhone or $3.99 for the iPad, it’s a steal given how often I play it.

Ingenious is an abstract game, meaning there’s no theme or graphics, just a large hexagonal board made up of smaller hexes, with six per side. Each vertex is filled with a single color, each color unique (that’s six colors for the Jack Morris voters in the audience). Players place two-hex pieces on the board – most contain two colors but some contain two hexes of the same color – and receive points for placing them adjacent to the same colors on the board, including any pieces beyond the immediate piece that extend out in a straight line from the piece the player just placed. Points accumulate in each color, so each player has six separate scores.

The twist, however, makes the game … well, I’ll call it clever. The winner is the player with the best “lowest” score among his six. If you neglect one of the six colors, you’ll lose. There is some benefit to maxing out a color at 18 points, as you get a bonus turn after doing so, but chasing 18s may leave you too unbalanced and you can absolutely win a game without reaching 18 in any color even if your opponent does.

For example, in that screenshot above, the player has a tile with red on one half and purple on the other. If he played that tile in the one open space on the top right with the purple side at the top, he’d get four points in purple (adjacent to two tiles, each of which extends out in a straight line for one more tile) and four points in red (adjacent to the top-left red tile, adjacent to the tile below that plus two more extending down and to the right in a straight line). And since red is his lowest color, that’s probably his best play.

The Ingenious app plays just two players and has no online component, but the AI has three levels and is very competitive, with the hardest level considering what you need in late-game moves and blocking you if possible. There is a solitaire mode which I haven’t played (I’d much rather play an AI opponent than a modified game for solo play).

My only real criticism of the app is that rotating tiles can be a little tricky. To move a tile into place, you just drag it, which works fine, but to rotate it, you have to make arcs around the tile, which only works well if the tile is well away from the bottom edge. If you’re placing it towards the bottom of the board, it’s better to press and hold on the tile until it pops to the foreground, rotate it there, and then drag and place. It’s a minor nuisance overall for a very simple but consistently challenging app.

I’ve never played the original board game Ingenious, which appears to play up to four players, but would be curious to hear any of your thoughts on it and how it differs with more than two players.

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→ December 30, 2010
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Put Out More Flags.

There was a young man of military age in the studio; he was due to be called up in the near future. “I don’t know what to do about it,” he said. “Of course I could always plead conscientious objections, but I haven’t got a conscience. It would be a denial of everything we’ve stood for if I said I had a conscience.”
“No, Tom, they said to comfort him. “We know you haven’t a conscience.”
“But then,” said the perplexed young man, “if I haven’t got a conscience, why in God’s name should I mind so much saying that I have?”

Evelyn Waugh may be best known for Brideshead Revisited (just $6 new at that link), but on balance I think I prefer his savage satires, from the incomparable Scoop to Decline and Fall to the book that includes the passage above, his World War II-era sendup Put Out More Flags. It’s funny and farcical but paints a very unflattering portrait of aimless upper-class twits and pseudo-intellectuals in the early years of the war.

The novel follows a small ensemble of these anti-protagonists, led by professional ne’er-do-well and scam artist Basil Seal, whose primary life goal seems to be avoiding any sort of honest career, or at least any career that would interfere with his other life goals of gadding about. His sister, Lady Sothill, has become the billeting officer for her town and is beset by three parentless children who cause mayhem and destruction with every host family. One of Basil’s temporary mistresses, Poppet Green, is an ardent communist whose poet friend, Ambrose Silk, joins the Ministry of Information and decides to put out a fascist-leaning literary magazine as a front. Basil’s more permanent mistress, Angela Lyne, is separated from her grotto-obsessed husband Cedric, who is one of several characters in his mid- to late-30s who hope to play at war to eliminate some hidden regrets they harbor about missing the last war.

One problem with satire is that it usually requires some understanding of the target to be effective, meaning that satires in general do not age well unless they either parody some fundamental aspect of human nature or simply layer the satire in so much humor that they can survive lack of familiarity with the underlying issue or institution. Waugh lampooned the England of that moment – the book was published in 1942 – but an almost Wodehousian silliness abounds, such as Basil’s tremendous idea to make money off his sister’s billeting gig, his scheme to weasel his way into one of the many intelligence offices in the British government, Ambrose’s constant paranoia, Peter Pastmaster’s desultory search for a wife, or the absurd exercises (with breaks for tea!) of Cedric’s platoons. Whether the English military or lesser aristocracy actually behaved in such irresponsible manners in the first few years of the war is beyond my ken, so I can’t speak to the effectivess of the satire, but after a slow start where Waugh introduces his cast of characters, the novel became quick and brilliantly funny. Some of the side plots seemed tacked-on, perhaps as a way to further the attack on some aspect of English life at the time, but in general if Basil Seal is on the scene, something ridiculous is afoot, and those parts are good reading.

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→ December 29, 2010
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Pandemic.

After receiving a number of recommendations from readers and questions about it from others, I asked for and received the cooperative board game Pandemic as a Christmas gift from my sister and brother-in-law. (One benefit to this new interest in board games: Family members who complained that they never knew what to get me for Christmas or my birthday now have something to get me.) I can’t compare Pandemic to other cooperative games, as it’s the first one I’ve played, but it is a fun and very challenging game that had the four of us playing till 1 am the last few nights while dropping our share of F-bombs along the way.

In Pandemic, two to four players form a team fighting four simultaneous regional pandemics of diseases denoted by different colors – blue in the U.S./Canada/Europe, yellow in Latin America/Africa, black in the Middle East and south Asia, and red in east Asia. When the game begins, you draw Infection cards for nine cities that will contain cubes representing infected populations, with those cities containing one to three cubes apiece. More cities gain cubes as the game goes on, and there will be four to six new epidemics that create three-cube infection cells in new cities while adding cubes to cities that already have infections.

The players begin at the CDC Research Center in Atlanta and must work to cure all four diseases while preventing them from spreading to the point where they trigger one of the end game conditions – running out of cubes in any color, or experiencing an eighth “outbreak,” where a city with three cubes already is hit with another one. A player can cure a disease by collecting five cards in that disease’s color (there’s one card for every city on the board, with the corresponding color) and turning them in while standing at any Research Center. Players can build other Research Centers besides the one in Atlanta for easier mobility.

On each turn, a player can take four actions. An action can include moving from one city to an adjacent one; playing a city card to move to that city; playing the card of the city he’s on to move to any city; moving from one Research Center to any other one; treating (removing) one cube in the current city; passing a card to or taking a card from another player as long as both players are in the city on that card; or building a research center if he’s in a city and plays the card of that city. But each player has a role that makes one of those actions simpler; the Medic, for example, can treat all cubes in the city he’s in with a single action.

The complication, of course, is that diseases spread. The deck of cards contains four to six Epidemic cards that speed the spread of the four diseases, and reshuffle all the Infection cards you’ve already used to place cubes on cities. Thus cities that have already come up in the deck and received cubes will come up again, so players must split their time between collecting cards for cures and putting out fires to avoid outbreaks – especially since outbreaks can cause chain reactions that can advance you to endgame very quickly.

We played the Normal game with five epidemic cards and still found it extremely difficult. Even with four players working together, we won just twice in a more than a half-dozen plays, and both wins came just as we were about to exhaust the deck of city cards (the third possible endgame condition). It’s a massive operations research problem, where all four players jointly coordinate the movement and actions of four players to try to most efficiently balance the short-term needs to avoid outbreaks or a cube shortage and the long-term need to cure the disease. You can even choose to eradicate a disease you’ve cured – if you treat all cubes of a cured disease (any player can remove all cubes of a cured disease in the city where his pawn sits with one action), the disease is eradicated and all future infection cards in that color have no effect. But eradication costs actions you may need to use to treat uncured diseases or coordinate with other players to collect cards.

There is some luck involved – you can have a bad combination of epidemic cards appearing close together with a concentration of cubes in cities of one color and see a game spiral out of control unless you’re sitting in that region – but there are enough disparate chance-based elements that it tended to balance out in our plays, so that we generally felt like we had a shot to win every game. The real challenges are coordinating that many players and choosing when you can avoid a short-term problem and go cure a disease, but those were what made the game fun and intense. It’s also a fairly quick play for that many people, about an hour if we didn’t lose early, and very replayable even within an evening because the mix of diseases, locations, cards, and roles differs each time.

There’s also a well-regarded expansion called Pandemic: On the Brink that adds five new roles, a fifth “mutant” disease, and even a way for someone to play the spoiler as the Bio-Terrorist. I haven’t played it, but expect I’ll pick it up in time, since we’ll probably be playing Pandemic quite often.

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→ December 27, 2010
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Top 12 songs of 2010.

I won’t pretend that this is any sort of canonical list of the best songs of 2010, or even the best alternative songs of 2010; it’s merely a list of the best songs I heard, songs I liked and would recommend if your musical taste echoes mine at all. Feel free to throw your own suggestions in the comments below, as well as the usual complaints about how I’m biased against The National.

I limited the list to songs released in the 2010 calendar year, so Phoenix, which dominated alternative radio all spring and summer, doesn’t qualify, since Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix came out in May of 2009.

Linked song titles go to videos; links to amazon or iTunes to purchase come after the title.

12. Ted Leo & the Pharmacists – The Mighty Sparrow. (amazon/iTunes) When the cafe doors exploded, I … ran for cover. OK, the lyrics are a little peculiar, but I like the straight-edge post-punk energy behind this song even if Leo does sound like he’s on the verge of laryngitis.

11. Cut Copy – “Where I’m Going.” (Still a free download at Cut Copy’s site.) Straight-up early Britpop from an Australian band, with a shout-along chorus and the sort of neutered harmonies in the vocals that characterized a lot of lesser acts in the earlier movement. I suppose if I was truly playing music critic I’d either praise the song’s hook-laden simplicity or criticize its derivative music and tired lyrics. Whatever I think, I can’t credibly claim that I didn’t like the song. A lot.

10. Ra Ra Riot – “Boy.” (amazon/iTunes) I’m pulling for these guys even though I found their album pretty uneven, with “Boy” the high point. We don’t see enough bands trying to do something so different while still staying within the rough confines of alternative music – you can hear strong new wave influences here – and their use of unusual song structures and string instruments does them credit.

9. Limousines – “Internet Killed the Video Star.” (iTunes) I could see this song crossing over to the pop charts because the chorus is so catchy, and for a supposedly “experimental” band they’ve put out a very straightforward song here that merges rock and electronic elements in a song that purports to defend the guitar against the computer. By the way, kids – that drum machine ain’t got no soul.

8. Sleigh Bells – “Rill Rill.” (amazon/iTunes) The rest of the Sleigh Bells album is unlistenable, but this song’s relentless, almost sing-songy lyric hooked me from first listen and brought back memories of the 1990s trip-hop anthem “6 Underground.” Besides, there’s something enchanting about the (presumed) teenage-girl narrator breaking with stereotype when she answers the question, “Wonder what your boyfriend thinks about your braces?” with the defiant, “What about them? I’m all about them.”

7. Tame Impala – “Solitude Is Bliss.” (iTunes) Another album that didn’t quite live up to the first track I heard, but this psychedelic, stop-and-start ode to living inside one’s own head reached out of the radio and grabbed me. The bizarre video is inventive given what appears to have been a very low budget.

6. Belle & Sebastian – “Ghost of Rockschool.” (amazon/iTunes) A mournful, mystical track from the underrated and understated Scottish masters of ironic rock, not their best song (that would be the incomparable “The Boy With The Arab Strap”) but the best on their newest album. The hint of brass brought me back to one of my favorite bands of the ’90s, Animals that Swim, who never quite found an audience for their albums of original tracks that sounded like drinking songs.

5. Dead Weather – “Blue Blood Blues .” (amazon/iTunes) I was surprised to read that Jack White plays drums for Dead Weather when the meaty, heavy guitar riffs on this song sound so much like his recent style. It’s sludgy, almost Kyuss-esque with better production and cleaner lines.

4. Arcade Fire – “Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains).” (amazon/iTunes) On an album about our sprawling suburban society, where culture is found in the yogurt section of the local grocery store, “Sprawl II” provides the most withering vocal attack over a very new wave-influenced track laced with synthesizers. I don’t love the singer’s breathy, thin voice, but you can always drown that out by singing along.

3. Broken Bells – “The High Road.” (amazon/iTunes) So Danger Mouse is good for one knockout song per collaborative album, right? This one, with James Mercer from the Shins, features a two-tiered vocal married to a split instrumental track, with an acoustic guitar line behind the laconic verse switching to trip-hoppy electronic sounds as Mercer brings his voice up an octave. This also spawned my first (and still only) YTMND effort.

2. Arcade Fire – “City With No Children.” (amazon/iTunes) From the start, it was my favorite track on one of the best rock albums I’ve ever purchased, and while I know many of you disagree, I think that’s more a function of how strong and deep The Suburbs is; if half the songs on this list came from that album I doubt I would have received many complaints. The absence of typical percussion and the muted sound of the lead guitar in “City” paint a desolate backdrop for lyrics describing not just alienation but self-reflection and ecological decay.

1. Mumford & Sons – “Little Lion Man.” (amazon/iTunes) A perfect marriage of alt-rock/emo angst and English folk music, with a perfectly deployed four-letter word of Anglo-Saxon origin (six letters as a past participle). The entire album (just $5 at amazon yet again) is a marvel, from “Winter Winds” to “White Blank Page” to “Roll Away Your Stone,” but “Little Lion Man” had the strongest hook, and its crossover on to American radio and eventual gold certification was one of the biggest stories in music this year.

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→ December 24, 2010
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Reiner Knizia’s Samurai app.

It’s up about $20 from yesterday, but The Wire: The Complete Series is still over half off at $96.49 on amazon.com.

—

I mentioned the other day that I’ve become extremely addicted to another iOS app, Reiner Knizia’s Samurai, by the prolific designer behind my favorite two-player game, Lost Cities. Samurai is based on a board game ranked in BoardGameGeek’s top 100, but I’ve never played it (I’ll be buying it after the holidays) so my impressions of the app won’t include any comparisons to the original.

The board Samurai includes an island or set of islands representing Japan and broken up into hexes, some of which have one or more icons representing peasants, soldiers (helmets), or buddhas. The object of the game is to capture as many of those icons as possible, but the victory condition is more based on capturing a plurality of each icon type than on the overall total of icons captured – you can, in fact, capture more icons than your opponent in a two-player game and still lose if he captured more in two of the three categories.

You capture an icon by surrounding it with tokens that influence it in your direction, placing one regular (“slow”) token per turn. Your slow tokens include peasant, soldier, and buddha tokens of varying strengths (1 to 4 points) and samurai tokens that influence all icons. You also receive “fast” tokens, of which you can place several each turn in addition to your one slow token; the ronin token is worth one influence point and goes on land, ship tokens are worth one or two points and go on sea hexes adjacent to land, and special tokens allow you to replay a slow token you’ve previously played or to switch two icons on the board to snatch one out from under your opponent’s thumb. When a hex bearing an icon is surrounded on the land side, it is captured by the player whose adjacent tokens exert the most influence. The game ends when all tokens of any single type are captured, or when four tokens are surrounded but uncaptured because of a tie in influence.

Samurai plays very differently as a two-player game versus a three- or four-player game. In the two-player game, it’s much easier to set up your next move or try to force your opponent to make a specific move, as well as to deduce some of your opponent’s strategy. With three or four players, your degree of control is so much less that your moves are more turn by turn rather than part of a larger game-long strategy, since it’s harder to predict what two or three opponents will do before your next move, leading to shorter setups for captures and more thought required in how your one move will push your opponents to do (or not do) something specific. It’s a simple mechanic that plays out in complex ways, yet with short turns still moves very quickly.

The iOS implementation has outstanding graphics and a very clear tutorial to get you started. I’ve found the AI to be very strong, especially in two-player games; in three-player games I’ve run into the occasional less-than-best move (unless I just didn’t understand what the AI was doing) but would never say I’ve had an easy win. Knizia is a mathematician by training, so his games are highly mathematical in nature, and I think that lends itself to stronger AIs because the programmer can model the game more easily. In Samurai, not only does that lead to more optimal moves by the AI, it also means the AI won’t miss a complex opportunity to end the game early by capturing the final icon in one category.

How addictive is Samurai? I had to leave my iPod Touch uncharged at one point to stop myself from playing the game when I should have been packing for our trip. I can’t seem to put it down unless I’ve won at least one game, because often I know I lost because of just one wrong move. I’ll have to pick up the board game, but I have a feeling this will be a top ten board game for me, maybe top five, given how phenomenal the app is. And I’m not the only ESPNer to think so – Jorge Arangure tweeted that he’s a fan too.

–

I may post again this weekend, but if I don’t get back before Saturday, Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it, and please be careful if (like me) you’re out on the roads.

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→ December 23, 2010
→ By

Turn, Magic Wheel.

Today’s chat transcript is up. No chat next week between the holidays.

—

“Would a woman like Effie Callingham, a fine woman like her, would she fall in love with a plain bounder?”
“Why not?” said Dennis with a shrug. “When did women ever fight over a Galahad?”

Dawn Powell has, in the last twelve months, become my favorite female American novelist, a writer whose books consistently deliver unusual and interesting characters, featuring Manhattan in its literary golden age, written with a sardonic wit male writers would be hard-pressed to match. She is the Queen of Snark, more than happy to turn her acerbic eye on her own social scene, and in Turn, Magic Wheel, she is positively savage.

Drawing its title from “The Sorceress,” a bucolic poem by Theocritus that includes the repeated line “Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love,” Turn, Magic Wheel covers a group of writers, wannabe writers, publishers, and hangers-on in New York around the time that Dennis Orphen, a fictional writer who made a cameo appearance in The Wicked Pavilion, has written a fictionalized biography of his friend, Effie Callingham, long separated from her famous, Hemingway-like husband Andy Callingham, now presumed in Europe with the woman for whom he left Effie. The book is days from publication and Effie is just learning that it’s about her, too thinly disguised to fool anyone, which will put her at the center of a storm of publicity.

In addition to the phonies and schemers are the lovers, including Dennis’ married lover Corinne, whose husband, Phil, is the most oblivious cuckold imaginable, while Corinne herself is unaware she’s just a physical thing for Dennis, who comes closest to actual affection for Effie. Meanwhile, Effie is pulled to the hospital when Andy’s second wife – not that he ever divorced the first – turns up in New York with terminal cancer, having left Andy (before she knew she was ill) because he took up with a Swedish chorus girl.

Powell inserts herself more into this book than the four other novels I’ve read, through the Orphen character and through her sendup of New York publishers, including the fatuous publisher Mactweed and his ambitious associate Johnson, always fearing for his position while he tries to gauge the direction of the literary wind. Orphen is the anti-romantic chronicler of his New York life, but had to fill in some missing gaps in Effie’s history for his novel, only to find himself confronted with the real-life analogues to his fictional characters and settings:

He shouldn’t have come in here, anyway, he thought, for there was in his novel no role for Dennis Orphen; he had no business following his heroine brazenly through her own secret story. Wells wouldn’t do such a thing. Proust wouldn’t have. No decent author would step brashly, boldly into his own book.

Step he does, of course, often leaving him dissembling about his identity and connection to Effie to avoid detection as the parodist of his hosts, but also to chase Effie when she abandons him (never for long) over some slight … like turning her life into a satirical novel without asking her first.

Turn, Magic Wheel rivals her best work, A Time to Be Born, for its cynical view of love. But it’s inarguable that love can be born and die as a living organism, beyond the control of its owners, and for Powell the writer, the end of love means an honest exploration of emotional pain. When Effie hears Andy’s second wife, slightly delirious from the cancer, echo as her own Effie’s wish that she had borne Andy a son so she would still have something of him, Powell writes:

There are words that cannot be borne, suggestions so burning with anguish and despair that no heart can endure them, so Effie, her lover stolen, her dream of a son now stolen, got to her feet and motioning, speechless, that she was leaving, found her way out of the intolerable room.

I’d still suggest that anyone who has yet to read any Dawn Powell novels begin with A Time to Be Born, which is a lock for the next Klaw 100, a wicked satire that functions more completely as a novel with real narrative greed and a protagonist you can actually support (even if she’s not completely innocent herself). Turn, Magic Wheel might be too biting for some readers – although I suppose if you’re here you’re not opposed to heavy use of snark – and doesn’t have as strong of a central character, with the city perhaps the real star of the book. It is, however, more evidence of the greatness of Dawn Powell, one of the most under-read authors I’ve ever encountered.

Next up: I finished Paul Harding’s Pulitzer Prize-winning Tinkers (just $5.98 right now, although I should warn you I didn’t love the book) on the train yesterday, and started Truman Capote’s novella Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

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→ December 22, 2010
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Carcassonne app.

My wife bought me an iPod Touch 4G for Christmas – we exchanged gifts early because we’re visiting family for the actual holiday – and, as you might imagine, the first thing I did was load it up with board game apps. I’ve already mentioned the incredible adaptation of Carcassonne (EDIT: my #1-ranked board game), which I purchased for my wife when she got her own iPod Touch a month ago, but they’ve tweaked the app since then and now offer a higher-resolution version compatible with the iPad as well. If you’re a fan of the original board game, or if you’re interested in all these games I discuss but haven’t had a chance to try any, this is an outstanding app to buy.

Carcassonne itself is a tile-laying game with no actual board; players build the board tile by tile as the game progresses. Players take tiles one by one and place them, with no stored tiles in anyone’s hand. Each tile contains some combination of road, city, and farmland, and the player must place it adjacent to one or more existing tiles while ensuring that any shared edges line up – if the new tile has a road on one edge, it can only be placed next to a tile with a road on the shared edge. Players earn points by placing “meeples” on cities, roads, and farms; city points are doubled when the city is closed (that is, the city walls are complete), while farms only earn points based on how many closed cities they abut. The catch is that you must have the most meeples on any city, road, or farm to earn points for it. The majority of the time that won’t be a problem, but a player can force a merger of two or more structures to try to take over the points that another player might have earned from it.

The iOS implementation is phenomenal. The graphics are dead-ringers for the board game, but also bright and clear for easy reading on the small iPod Touch screen. Placing tiles is intuitive – slide into place, tap to rotate, click and hold to relocate. Any legal placement for the tile is shaded so you can survey your options much more quickly. Once you’re happy with where you’ve placed the tile, click on the meeple in box on the right, after which you’ll have the option to place the meeple in any legal spot on that tile. Areas on the board that can’t be filled by any remaining tile are covered with a large X. Most impressive is the easy screening – the zoom level will change automatically as the board expands, and you can modify it manually if you want to see more or less of the board.

The app comes with nine different AI players – two each at easy, hard, evil, and “weird” levels, plus a simple AI I haven’t tried. There are even local ELO scores, so you can watch yours increase if you beat either of the hard AIs. The easy players are not awful or stupid and won’t make moves obviously against their own interest, but aren’t quite as aggressive about trying to horn in on cities and farms you’ve already created. I’ve found the hard players to be an ideal challenge – beatable, but only with effort, which is all you can ask from what is essentially a spreadsheet and a decision tree. And the game’s mechanics, with tiles appearing in random order, mean that playing the same AI doesn’t get old as quickly as it might in other games.

The app also includes multi-player capabilities, both locally and over the Internet, as well as a solitaire version I haven’t tried. The only thing it’s missing right now is the ability to play with any of the board game’s numerous expansions, but the developers have said for some time now that they intended to work on adding those as in-game purchase options once this month’s major update (including iPad compatibility) was released. I imagine the AIs will require some tweaking for certain expansions that alter or enhance the point-scoring rules, but either way look for the game to continue to improve over the coming months.

I’ll review some more apps over the next week, but the next one will be a Reiner Knizia game, Samurai, that has proven similarly addictive and is faster to play than Carcassonne. And apparently my colleague Jorge Arangure is just as hooked.

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→ December 20, 2010
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Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part One.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part One – the seventh Potter film, covering the first half of the final book of the series– is by far the best Harry Potter movie yet, with better acting, better effects, and, most importantly, much better pacing so there’s no more feeling that we’re racing through the story (while hitting as many fun details as possible) to get to the ending before the 180-minute mark.

The pacing results from the overdue decision to split any of the Potter books into two movies, rather than to pack one of Rowling’s detail-dense stories into a fairly short movie. Five of the six previous screenplays took the same tack: Try to make the movie look as much as possible as the depiction in Rowling’s text, adding in the most fun or memorable details, while skimping on back story and compressing or omitting key plot points. The exception was the third film, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, directed by Y Tu Mamá También director Alfonso Cuarón, who went after the spirit of the book rather than just another faithful yet rote translation. The Gothic look and more rational pacing produced a film that was watchable even if you weren’t immersed in the Potter mythology with imagery that stuck with me long after the film was over.

Deathly Hallows Part One takes its time getting through what is still a dense 400-odd pages of text, assuming that by now you know the back story, ripping through a very tight, effective, emotional intro sequence to set up the almost immediate jump into action-film territory – and there is a lot of action in the movie. There are several major fight and/or chase sequences, and since you know Harry can’t die in this film (there’s a Part Two already on the schedule, which is sort of a clue), developing true tension when he’s in peril comes down to timing on the parts of both the director and the actors. The more natural pacing of the film also helped, as I could sink more into the story as opposed the arm’s-length perspective of the earlier films, where things happened so quickly and without explanation that my investment in the underlying plot was never very deep.

The stars of this film, as in the book, are Harry, Ron, and Hermione, getting their greatest chance to stretch out as actors and succeeding across the board. The acting in the earlier films in the series was often paint-by-numbers – parts were handed out based on appearances, or the fun of having a big star appear in a role, with the actual performances secondary. Rupert Grint (Ron) was probably the best actor of the young troika at the start, but Emma Watson has made the most strides as an actress from start to finish, to the point where she’s able to carry a few scenes in this film.

(Unrelated to the film, I’ve been very impressed with how Watson has handled herself and her career over the last few months, setting an example for taking control of your life and your work that more young women, famous or not, could follow. Watson has made an aggressive move into the fashion arena and attached herself to a bleeding-edge cause, fair-trade clothing – an uncontroversial affiliation, but one that’s several steps beyond where the public consciousness is on fair-trade anything right now. Given the vicissitudes of the film industry and the short times in the limelight for many young actors and actresses, this looks like a savvy business move to extend her personal brand and increase her own control over her career.

And then there’s the hair. I can’t remember the last time a non-insanity-induced change in hairstyle produced such a reaction – Jennifer Aniston on Friends? – but Watson’s decision to cut off her locks in favor of a pixie cut seems like more than just standard-issue rebellion, but a retaking of her own image distinct from that of the only character she’s played on the big screen to date. Again, there’s control at work; Watson described doing it on the sly, but as a planned, thoughtful move, as opposed to, say, showing up in an airport barbershop and shaving her own head. It helps to be cute enough to pull off such a short haircut, but as a way to transform her image on the fly and make positive headlines for something unrelated to the Potter film – although I’m sure Warner Brothers was thrilled for the added bit of publicity around the time of the film’s release – looks to me like a shrewd maneuver that establishes her as her own boss while promoting her careers in film and in fashion.

The risk of pigeonholing is huge for the handful of actors who played the kids in the Potter films – this Collider interview with Tom Felton (Draco Malfoy) gets at that issue as well – and the only practical solution is for the actors to take control of and develop their own brands independent of the characters to whom they’re so closely tied. It looks like Watson is doing so aggressively and intelligently, staking out territory for herself beyond acting; tying herself to a good, underplayed social issue; and stating unequivocally that her image is hers, not Warner Brothers’ or Hermione Granger’s or anyone else’s. In a world where young actresses and celebrities typically make headlines for bad or even self-destructive behavior, I worry about being able to show my daughter positive role models beyond those in our immediate circle – women who still bring the natural appeal of celebrity but are also smart, successful, and responsible. So far, at least, it looks like Watson is on her way to becoming that kind of person, and if that helps her achieve her own career goals, it’s just a virtuous circle where everyone benefits.

That said, I’m guessing that, like Watson’s father, I will someday be quite upset when my own daughter decides to cut off her curls.)

Daniel Radcliffe had settled comfortably into the Harry role a few films ago, and despite the fact that he’s front and center for almost the entire film, he has very little latitude within the role – he’s usually being chased, being attacked, or attacking someone else. He gets a bit of comic relief up front when various Order of the Phoenix members take Polyjuice Potion to resemble him, and there’s a fun (and apparently improvised) scene where he dances with Hermione to relieve the tension after a spat with Ron. Rumor has it that the Harry/Voldemort confrontation is even larger in Part Two than it was in the book, so I’m hopeful we’ll get to see more of Radcliffe’s range when he’s not under assault.

That comic relief I mentioned is necessary in a film that’s dark and foreboding and filled with action and mayhem, as well as two deaths of named characters. They don’t feel forced, but comfortable, similar to the scene in Prisoner of Azbakan when the Weasley twins intercept Harry while he’s wearing his invisibility cloak. (And this would be a fine time to point out that the actors playing the twins, James and Oliver Phelps, have been criminally underutilized throughout the series of films. Oliver, playing George, has a hilarious moment in this most recent film where he doesn’t speak a word, but just stands against a kitchen counter with a cup of coffee in hand.) That relatively seamless quality has been lacking throughout the series; often it would seem like a joke was inserted because it was a highlight of the book and the screenwriter couldn’t omit it even if it didn’t flow with what preceded and followed it.

The scenery in the film is remarkable, both indoors and out. I was sure they’d shot some of the film in New Zealand given how much it reminded me of parts of the The Lord of the Rings trilogy, but Wikipedia (which we know is never wrong) says it was all shot in the United Kingdom; if someone in London is paying attention, they’ll use footage from the film in future U.K. Tourism adverts, because many of the landscape shots are breathtaking. The Ministry of Magic, which you’ve seen before, remains one of the crowing achievements of Harry Potter set design with its mix of mundane (seemingly century-old elevators) and magical. The Malfoy mansion represents the best in abanoned-property chic, dark, desolate, and appropriately eerie. Even the Lovegood shack is – as so much in the films has been – strikingly like Rowling’s descriptions.

As a part one of two, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part One ends without full resolution, but doesn’t seem the least bit unfinished, nor does its status has half of a greater whole hang over the film in any way. There’s a gradual crescendo that will certainly accelerate in Part Two, but the longer format means we get more meaning, more detail, better dialogue, and more chance for several actors – notably Grint and Watson – to stretch out. I’ve watched the first six Potter movies out of a sort of obligation, but the success of this film has me avidly looking forward to the finale.

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→ December 19, 2010
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More from Dominion designer Donald X. Vaccarino.

By now you’ve probably seen my piece on the Zack Greinke trade. I want to thank all of you who’ve reached out to me to comment on the section on Greinke’s battle with anxiety disorder. I have been bothered by the way Greinke, Joey Votto, and other players with mental illnesses have been depicted, and this seemed like the appropriate time to discuss it.

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I talked via email to Donald X. Vaccarino for last week’s mental_floss article on the making of his hit game, the Spiel des Jahres-winning Dominion, but ended up with far more material than I could use in that one piece. Here’s some bonus footage from the email exchange, covering some game details like cards, strategies, and which expansion to buy first. (Anything in bold/italics is mine; the rest is Vaccarino.)

Anything specific about the game that you love?

Dominion has a really nice solution to a classic game problem – or rather, a classic problem of the kind of game I tend to make. You have games where you play a card with a rule on it each turn, and it sits around in play for the rest of the game. And there are say four players. So after five turns, there are twenty cards in play. It’s impossible to pay attention to everything, to even make sure the rules are being followed. And well there are several things you can do to address this problem. Dominion’s solution is to hide away those cards in your deck. This is just a great solution. It drastically lowers the complexity of the game in this trivial way. Of course it’s not a solution I can generally use, without the game ending up as a Dominion variant.

How about your favorite cards?

My favorite cards from each set so far, as of this moment: Throne Room, Pawn, Smugglers, Apprentice, Peddler.

Thoughs on the so-called Chapel strategy?

Chapel is a powerful card; probably no other card will get to be as powerful for its cost. This was not a secret when working on the main set; I felt that the card added a lot to the game and was worth doing. The differences between it costing $2 and $4 were small, and favored it costing $2.

Note: The Chapel strategy involves using Chapel cards to strip down your hand so you’re running a very small deck stacked first with Silver and later with Gold cards, so you can buy a Province card on nearly every turn. It’s controversial because it’s you’re deck-destroying while you’re deck-building, and it can be tough to defeat without certain Kingdom cards available to opponents.

Recommendations for rookies?

For new players I recommend having a strategy, and not neglecting treasures.

Which expansion should people buy first?

Intrigue was specifically groomed to be the first expansion. I’d get it first. If for some reason you don’t want it, get Seaside (53% off at amazon right now) first. Both sets are simpler than Prosperity and Alchemy. I expect Prosperity to be more popular, but the changes it makes to the game are more exciting when you’ve already played the game without them for a while.

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Coming Monday: My review of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part One.

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