Why The Borderlands Movie Sucked… And How They Could Have Fixed It

For anyone who has had more than two conversations with me, it’s no secret that I’m a huge Borderlands fan. This is the game that got me into first person shooters. Borderlands 2 is only the second game that has made me walk away because of emotional storyline choices (FFVII popped that cherry in high school. Damn you Sephiroth). Borderlands has also provided my best multiplayer story experience (sorry Mario Kart and Smash Bros, you don’t really have a story).

So when this movie was announced years ago, I was excited. Very excited. Then the casting began. Jack Black. Cate Blanchett. Jamie Lee Curtis. Kevin Hart. Yes. This was going be amazing. Was I a little concerned about Cate Blanchett’s age in regards to Lilith? Yes. Did Kevin Hart’s height seem surprising given the massive physical presence Roland had? Of course. But having seen Cloud Atlas become a movie and Wheel of Time become a show, I was open to interpretation.

As well all know, the movie has been utterly destroyed by critics. Disheartening. On pace for one of the worst movie releases ever. Dream-shattering. But that created the perfect silver lining. If I went into it thinking it would be an abomination, then I was likely to enjoy it more than if I’d super-hyped it up. Right? Right?!

Borderlands was not a good movie. It wasn’t a terrible movie either. It was just a bad movie. The beginning was particularly bad, though it did get better as it went along. Why? I’ll point out very specific reasons that someone in the writing or editing process should have picked up on.

Warning! Spoilers are coming. I’ll try to only hint at big reveals in case you haven’t seen it, but I won’t be able to talk about this spoiler-free.

Problem One: Pacing.

This movie did not know what it wanted to be. Comedy/action? Straight action? Potty humor? Now, I’m not privy to exactly which parts were involved in the reshoots, but I’d wager a healthy sum it was focused on the beginning. It started out with Cate Blanchett exposition regarding Eridians and the Vault and for someone knowing nothing about the world of Borderlands, that would be very helpful. Part of me thinks they were trying to replicate her intro narration in LOTR. It didn’t work out.

The problem with narration is it slows everything down. Borderlands is a first person shooter. The most effective parts of this movie were when they leaned into that freneticism (something I’m assuming attracted them to director Eli Roth). The second problem with narration in film is that it’s often the sign of bad/lazy writing.

There are three moments of narration. The very beginning, a random bit maybe fifteen minutes later when Lilith gets to Pandora, and then a bit at the end. The middle narration was completely unnecessary. She tells us something happened, then we watch it happen. Then she tells us something happened, then we watch it happen. There’s that problematic writing axiom, show don’t tell. Regardless of how you feel about that, you definitely don’t do both at the same time.

The end narration was one of those contrived, moral of the story bits. No, it didn’t have a moral, but it told you how you were supposed to feel about what happened and where things were going. Audiences (arguably) aren’t dumb. We can form our own opinions. Don’t belittle us with that garbage.

The middle and ending narration were bad and shouldn’t have been there. That leaves the beginning narration. Can you have just the one segment of narration. Yes. Will the film be stronger without it? Probably. The reason I don’t like narration and find that it’s lazy, is most of the time that information can be conveyed during the action of the movie. We heard plenty of times that the Eridians were no longer there, that they left tech behind, and Vault Hunters sought the missing vault on Pandora. That takes out the entire opening narration right there.

The one other pacing thing I’ll mention, not even talking about the actual cutting and editing of the sequence of events, is as it relates to the tension of a scene or moment. Very serious, awe-inspiring Lilith flying around with fire wings? Probably a good time to throw Krieg in there with a 1.5 second gag line. Then back to the seriousness. What? Really? Who thought that was a good idea?

Problem Number Two: Continuity.

I imagine (or hope) much of the blame for this lies in the need for reshoots. Basically, there were several payoff moments toward the end of the movie that called back to earlier scenes in the film. The one that stands out the most was when Tannis offered Tina some tea. You could definitely tell this intimate moment was set up earlier. Except it wasn’t. I’m sure at some point there was a scene or set of lines involving Tannis and Tina and tea, but those lines didn’t make it into the final cut. The problem is that the emotional impact of the lines we did see was non-existent. Instead of an “awwww” derived from character growth, we just wonder why the celebration scene is being interrupted with tea? Every second of screen time is important. Why waste ten seconds on that line when it doesn’t mean anything to the audience.

Also, and this stemmed from an in-game joke, when they got to Sanctuary they all had to go up some stairs. I asked my friend at the theater, “how’d Claptrap get up the stairs?” And we both chuckled. Then later on there were stairs again and Claptrap started to do his “oh no, stairs” bit, and Krieg grabbed him and carried him. So they addressed the question/problem, but not when the question/problem first arose. Take the Sanctuary stairs out… perfect. Or have Krieg carry him in Santaury… works great. Ignore the stairs entirely and then do the stairs joke? Continuity problems. Things happen in an order for a reason. Understand those reasons.

Problem Number Three: Appropriate Level of Fan Service.

I admit this is a broad topic. In adaptations, anything and everything can be considered fan service. For the sake of this, I’ll break it down to three aspects: locations, dialogue, and characters.

I’ll start with the least offensive: locations. I actually quite enjoyed seeing the world of Pandora and everything that was included. From named locations like Fyrestone and Sanctuary, to the exact placement of bones where that one badass skag always comes from, or the fact that they jumped over Piss Wash Gully, those visual treats were subtle and hit the fandom just right. Now, did it make sense for them to brave the Caustic Caverns only to stumble across a bandit stronghold whose denizens clearly didn’t use the caverns to get there? Not one bit.

Next: dialogue. Knowing first-hand how hard acting is, I don’t want any of this to seem a judgment on the actors. I’ve said for a long time that the greatest struggle for independent films is good writing, followed by good audio, but that’s another issue. That being said, were there times when Eli Roth should have said, “Okay, let’s try that one again?” Yes. Beyond that, there were moments when Easter eggs were thrown into dialogue at the expense of the quality of the dialogue.

For example, there’s the moment when Lilith realizes she needs a vehicle, so she says she’s gotta “catch a ride.” That’s straight from the game, but it sounds utterly ridiculous in the moment. Another time, Tina asks Lilith to grab her badonkadonk. Another reference straight from the game. With the right setup, it might have worked. But it didn’t. Even knowing what that meant, the execution was terrible. Fans like having those moments appear in film and TV, but it has to be organically integrated, not shoved in half-assed. We want to experience the world. We don’t want you to wink at us every time you think you’re clever.

And speaking of Tina, though off topic, let her blow stuff up! That’s what Tina does. Sure she throws some grenades at the end, but she gave Bob to Roland, and the few explosions when we meet her seem situational, not character driven. Tina is bat-shit. Let us see that.

That leaves us with characters. I’m going to point out two poor choices, and two good choices. The poor choices (and there were more than just two) are Marcus and Krieg. It’s tricky, adapting a world with so many characters that so many people love. I understand wanting to satisfy everyone, but it can’t be at the expense of the story. Marcus had two real scenes. The first was picking up Lilith on the Vault Hunter bus. That is a classic callback to the first Borderlands game, and technically it served as a vehicle *ahem* to learn about Lilith’s feelings about Vault Hunters. But it ate up a lot of time and added nothing new to the story. We knew Lilith thought Vault Hunters were dumb. It played as an awkward scene shoved in for the sake of seeing the bus. His second scene was trying to barter with the Crimson Lance. That’s a perfect use for Marcus. Give him three lines (not just a split second visual like with Ellie). Show the audience that the people of Sanctuary stand together against the Lance. Advance the plot as our heroes try to escape. For people who know Marcus it’s “hey, it Marcus!” For those who don’t, it doesn’t matter. Because it adds to the world in a way that advances world-building and story at the same time, without taking us out of the moment.

The second poor choice was Krieg. I understand wanting the big dumb brute as a foil for pretty much everyone else, though the main contrast is with Tina. The problem is this big dumb brute lacks a face, only shouts, and only speaks in caveman garble. Combine the garble with shouting, and half of what he says (and that’s generous) is unintelligible. Does unintelligible dialogue advance plot or character or anything? No. Does a primary character with zero facial expressions work? Almost always, no. But I do like the idea of pairing a sensitive brute with a small child. Luckily, Borderlands has just the person for that. Brick! He’s big, he’s dumb, and man is he protective of Tina. Not only would we have understood him, but we would have seen actual emotion. And he could have addressed why he was on that Atlas ship in the first place.

There were two good character inclusions in the movie. The first is obviously Lilith. As much as she was underwhelming in the first game, her role in the subsequent games can’t be overstated. And then there’s Roland. Remember when I mentioned Borderlands 2 was one of the two games that made me emotional enough to walk away? Roland. God damn you, Handsome Jack.

In Lilith we get a central character that is meaningful for the gamers, while also being a fairly well-realized cinema character. Adding her mother (completely wasting Haley Bennett) and showing her prior connections to Tannis and Moxxi worked very well and her character arc in the movie was one of the best parts. Also, when she goes full Firehawk… hits the nostalgia so hard.

In Roland we get the jaded ex-corporate soldier. Roland’s character arc was lacking, likely due to the fact that he was intended as a supporting character to Lilith and Tina. But he was a great choice as a character to include. With better writing, we could have seen the corruption of the corporations (also negating the need for intro narration), and Roland’s setup as a Pandoran leader would have made sense on a practical and emotional level. There’s a reason his character was so pivotal in Borderlands 2. A sad note about him though… we never got to see him deploy hit turret. We see plenty of cool tech, and there are a couple of battles it would have been great in. Lilith got to phasewalk. Kreig almost always rampaged. But no turret for Roland. Missed opportunity.

These three problems I’ve addressed aren’t the only problems in the movie, they’re just three of the most obvious, and most easily fixed. The ease with which they could have been addressed is especially frustrating after waiting so long for this movie to exist. But it at least provides solace in knowing that a Borderlands movie won’t inherently be garbage. There is so much lore to pull from and so much opportunity for engaging storytelling, even if the movie doesn’t follow the game’s story.

TLDR: The movie was bad, especially beginning. Pacing, editing, and character usage were major problems.

I should say that the fights worked well, especially with the bandits in the tunnels and the main fight at the end. The chaos and unrelenting horde of meat fodder was very reminiscent of the game and very fun.

Would I watch it again? Maybe when my kid is old enough. Maybe just in the background so I can glance at nostalgic scenery. And, because I’m eight-years-old, watching Claptrap violently diarrhea bullets will never get old.

PS: When Roland breaks Tina out at the beginning, that was totally the perfect moment for a “little short for a Crimson Lance” joke. Right in line with Borderlands and much funnier than the short joke they put in later.

A Journey of 10000 Pieces

Some months back I found out I had a refund check owed to me by an old dentist. It wasn’t a ton of money, but I, my Lego obsession fully rekindled, joked with my wife that I should spend it on Lego. And not just any Lego, but the biggest one I could come up with on the spot. The Eiffel Tower.

For those who don’t know, the Lego Eiffel Tower set is a whopping 10001 pieces and stands about five feet tall. With a nearly two foot square base, it’s a massive set. And it comes with a massive price tag. Far more than my piddly refund check could cover, and far more than my wife would allow without looking up how to draft divorce papers.

But the joke had been made, and I’ve never been one to let a joke go, good or bad.

So when Christmas rolled around and we got some cash with which to buy ourselves presents, of course I had to champion the tower. My birthday was the following month. Eiffel Tower please. We got our tax return. Eiffel Tower! No such luck. Not that I was actually expecting it.

But then one fateful day, my wife got a promotion, and with it, a pay bump. I was out of town when the news came in, so I texted her “Eiffel Tower?!?!?!” Her response was immediate.

”Sure.”

Apparently she’d already decided that each of us should treat themselves (she got official Barbie roller blades and other paraphernalia), and was just waiting for me to ask.

As you can imagine, after much agonizing and debate, I ordered the Eiffel Tower.

I knew the box would be large. But I didn’t realize exactly how large. The giant cardboard box left at my doorstep could have fit a couple of small children, or one of those window AC units. Pretty sure my 100 pound German Shepherd would have been cozy inside. I opened the box to find… another box. Talk about building suspense, Lego.

Inside that box was the actual box. The big kahuna. I immediately took a pic and sent it to my family, who of course all knew the ongoing joke and that it was becoming a reality. I got several messages that for some reason had similar concerns.

Don’t do it all in one day.

Well, considering it’d arrived in the afternoon, and there were baby bathes and kid bedtimes to handle and stuff like that, doing it that day was out of the question. Had I received The Eiffel Tower at 8am and before becoming a parent, it totally would have been a single-day build, blisters be damned.

Back to the box(es). I carried the shiny new box upstairs where The Eiffel Tower would stand when completed and opened it up. Only to find three more boxes. Sooooo much cardboard. Each of the three smaller boxes seemed larger than any other single Lego box I’ve ever had. My inherently faulty memory and in-the-moment elation may have influenced that assumption, but if it’s not true, it isn’t by much.

And now: time to build.

Normally I do builds on the dining room table. But that’s downstairs, and no way was I going to carry a five foot tall tower up the stairs and risk it falling or smacking into something. So I built it. On the floor. I’ll be 40 years old next year. Do you know what sitting on hardwood floors for hours on end does to a middle-aged body? Let’s just say I was more sore from one night of building on the floor than I was from doing the world’s largest bouncy house non-stop with my kid for three hours.

Evening one was just the base and the first layer of supports. Those trees got a bit monotonous, along with the trusses running up and down the legs of the tower. Especially the trusses. I was a little confused as to the red and yellow pieces on opposite legs, but it made sense once I resumed the next day.

Build evening number two was cut short for reasons, and I was only able to get up to the blue pieces, not the smaller section of tower standing next to it. Part of the delay was just family stuff. Another part was something new for me with Lego sets.

Everyone so often there’ll be a piece missing from a set. Something at the factory didn’t go right and a small 1×1 plate will be missing. Lego is great as sending replacement parts if this happens, and it’s never really been a big deal, especially when my sorted inventory of pieces has a replacement I can use. This time, it wasn’t just one piece missing.

As most Lego builders know, there are numbered plastic bags that you open in order as you progress through the set. Inside those bags will sometimes be smaller plastic bags filled with a bunch of really small pieces. Bag 32 was once such bag. There were multiple small bags within. The only problem was that one of the smaller bags was the wrong bag. What that meant was I was missing not one, but ninety-six pieces. On the plus side, the wrong bag that was in there ended up being entirely extra pieces that found their way into my bins for future projects.

But I was missing a lot of pieces. What was I to do? First, I tried to find replacement parts for all the pieces. That sort of worked. All the pieces were that same dark grey color. I had plenty of the right type of piece, just not enough in dark grey. So The Eiffel Tower got a temporary paint job.

Each of the four sides looked like this. Luckily, this section wasn’t structurally significant, so when the replacement pieces arrived, swapping them out proved not too difficult.

When you go to the Lego site to request a missing piece, it’s an easy and basic form to fill out where you can look up the piece, enter your info, and boom, it’s on its way. But it was designed to replace one or two pieces at a time. Not ninety-six. Looking up and adding those one at a time would have taken forever, so instead I emailed customer service and explained the situation. After a couple of emails back and forth, the pieces were on their way. Super helpful and understanding.

While the actual, fully complete Eiffel Tower took a couple of weeks because of the replacement parts, I built the (with replacements) whole thing over three evenings. Part of me wanted to see if I could speed build the thing. I looked up the record for the set’s fastest build, and it is 9 hours, 14 minutes, and 32 seconds. I didn’t use a stop watch, but even with the hunting for replacement parts and constant shifting on the floor as my hips let me know how unhappy they were with my life choices, I don’t think I was too far off from that mark. If I assembled everything from a comfy chair at the table and had the proper pieces waiting for me… it could happen. I’ve always thought I was a speedy builder, and if I ever felt like disassembling and reassembling all 10001 pieces, I might have to give the record a go.

Now that it’s completed, it’s standing tall in the corner of my office. Before it arrived, I had briefly thought about using it as a bulletin board, hanging up character and plot ideas for later, but once I assembled it I realized the top was far too narrow for that. So instead I just have to lean this way or that to see my whiteboard notes. I can live with that. :)

Oh, and the red and yellow pieces? Elevators to the various observation decks. Zoom in and you can see them at intervals inside the tower. And lastly, all Lego sets are built using the same catalog of pieces. The colors can be changed easily enough, and yes, they’ll occasionally make new pieces for sets if needed. But there’s a thing called nice part usage, where you take a piece and use it for something other than what it was designed for. My favorite nice part usage in this set was the sausage. The thirty-two sausages.

Because of the Paris Olympics I really want to surround this with micro-builds of Olympic events. But I’ve not nearly the time or bandwidth for that. Sad. But that’s all for today. Hope you enjoyed my little journey, and if you’ve any fun builds or Lego stories to share, feel free.

Defeating the Leg Jiggle

A few weeks ago I did a reading at a coffee shop that got me thinking about public speaking. Or, more specifically, public reading.

When I got on stage, in front of the mic, everything was fine. I introduced myself, totally off the cuff and not rehearsed. Then I started reading and remembered why I like to sit for stuff like this.

Halfway through my first piece, my right leg got a nervous jiggle, sort of like restless leg syndrome. I didn’t feel nervous, wasn’t stumbling over my words or anything. But the jiggle came, increasing nearly to the point of Yankee dancing.

This typical sign of nervousness is particularly strange because I have a theatre background. I’ve been in stage shows and have performed in front of much larger audiences than at that coffee shop, all with no leg jiggles.

So what’s the deal? I really have no idea. The reading went well. People laughed where they were supposed to, and the applause didn’t sound like merely polite clapping. But as I read through the three short pieces, that leg would not stop.

Eventually, to hide it (which apparently worked, based on what my fellow readers told me), I just put all my weight on that one leg, letting my mass stick it in place. The jiggling didn’t switch legs, but I could tell it was still there. By the time I got done though, my hip was not pleased about that stance.

So how do I fix this moving forward? Is it simple a matter of more practice? Maybe. Hopefully. Because without a conscious feeling of stage fright, I don’t have a good answer. The subconscious on the other hand… the subconscious is weird. It does what it wants.

The difference could stem from the fact that I was reading my own work (ignoring the fact I’ve written things that I’ve later acted out). The difference could also be that I didn’t view it as acting. That seems the most likely to me. Maybe I just need to pretend to be a reader, or the actual narrator of the piece. Act it out.

Regardless, that jiggle needs to go away. Not just for the sake of my hip, or the fact that I’d never Yankee dance (or Yankee anything). How about this: from now on, I’ll just insist on having a nice, padded leather chair. Sit down, cross my legs, and be at peace. Completely reasonable. It worked well enough in my kid’s kindergarten class. :)

Sleepless Night and Poopy Diapers

It’s been a while (exactly twelve days) since I’ve written anything, be it here or on a project, and I can lay the blame solely on my wife. Okay, maybe not solely. I maaaay have had something to do with it. Regardless of blame, I’d like to introduce the newest distraction in my house, Kara.

What I’ve learned so far about her is she very strong, thinks sleeping is for the daytime, and gives a wicked side eye. We still like her anyway. :)

Reading This Sunday

Just a quick post here: If anyone lives in or around the Twin Cities, VERS/ATILE is hosting a reading this Sunday at 6pm. There are featured readers, followed by open mic. I’m one of the featured readers and I’ll be reading a couple of published shorts as well as one scheduled for publication this fall. Sort of a sneak peak.

If you’re interested in attending, the reading will be at Gingko Coffeehouse on Snelling in St. Paul.

I should note that if my wife ends up having our baby on Sunday, I’ll probably not be there, but I’ll update this if that’s the case.