In a recent interview with the television news program 60 Minutes, Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad is asked by the correspondent Scott Pelley to describe what, if anything, he admires about U.S. President George Walker Bush. A seasoned dodger, Ahmadinejad replies coolly that he doesn’t know the man well enough to comment; during which his well kempt beard and beady eyes are besieged by a smirk, not uncharacteristic of the man, simmering with barely restrained cockiness and disdain. This scene—minus the presence of a silky necktie adorned with the stars and stripes of Ahmadinejad’s nemesis—bares an uncanny similarity to a scene near the end of The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters, the new documentary that is one of the top five best reviewed films of the year.
In the scene from the film, Billy Mitchell, the movie's real life “co-star” and the world’s longstanding, sternly hirsute Donkey Kong champion, sits calmly at a booth inside Rickey’s, a hot wing restaurant he owns and operates in Hollywood, Florida. Asked if his opinion of one Steve Wiebe—the not unlikable number two seed in Donkey Kong and the film’s other co-star—has been made more positive after their competitive encounters on and off camera, Mitchell comments with a smirk that he has no comment. In the uncomfortable silence that follows, the camera lingers patiently on Mitchell’s face and eyes and, like a psych-out, captures his stare, one that could burn the eyes out of a skull quicker than his signature hot sauce.
There are no overt political messages, agendas or parallels to current administrations in The King of Kong. But it is a supremely well-made movie with a goofy premise—focusing on an unexplored microcosm of diehard, fully grown nerds passionate about obtaining high scores in classic arcade games—that manages to say more about the dire state of current bureaucratic world politics than recent films tackling such deadlocked affairs head-on like Redacted, Syriana and The Kingdom.
That is to say, witnessing Bill Mitchell, a smart, middle-aged man, figuratively pound his chest and flash his superiority for nearly two hours on screen, at times behaving just like the same numbskull ape named after an ass that has ineffectively taunted him level after level, point after point for decades, is not only funny as hell, but an ingenuous portrait of our road to it. The King of Kong is the rare documentary, on a comical subject no less, that transcends. Much of Hollywood has taken notice.
Somewhere, whether in the back of his mind, in an office looking over a script, or at Bar 107 in downtown Los Angeles, where ignore met up with him for a photo shoot, beers and a few failed world record attempts on a Donkey Kong machine, King of Kong’s director Seth Gordon is considering new outlets and possibilities to utilize the jackpot of material he scored when making his lauded feature debut.
"Because of the nature of the sale and the complexity of Kong’s theatrical distribution, I don’t think we’ll ever feel like we’re finished with this project,” says Gordon. “We haven’t had a chance to really celebrate yet because it doesn’t feel like it’s finished.”
This summer Seth signed a deal at New Line Cinema to direct a fictional adaptation of The King of Kong, admitting in our interview that the studio has mentioned Johnny Depp as a possible star, as rumors have suggested. With the remake now being written by Michael Bacall, Seth is focusing on the upcoming DVD to the original, which will follow-up on core and peripheral gamers in the film and possibly clear-up the loud nerd squabble that has streaked across the Internet in the last month like a gassy Millennium Falcon. While the remake, the DVD and his many non-KoK projects are discussed further down, Seth also had plenty of keen notions regarding the interpretation of his debut, which is now playing at select theaters in North America.
“People should be thinking about larger themes—authority, government, what it means to be an outsider, a winner, a loser, and the psychology of all that—when they see [King of Kong]. All of those issues come into play when we’re talking about being the best, being dominant, and being in charge. And the quote [that appears in the film] connects with all of those themes as well,” says Gordon, adding, “But those themes, we didn’t expect them when we started.”
The quote Gordon references? It’s by notorious Beat writer William S. Burroughs. Its appears at the start of KoK and serves as a contextual umbrella for everything that follows. It reads on-screen: “We are a war universe. War all the time. There may be other universes, but ours seems to be based on war and games.”
In the film, these “games” are classic arcade games like Donkey Kong and Pac-Man, a worldwide phenomenon since their original roll-out in the early 1980s. The first perfect score in Pac-Man (there have only been five perfect scores in an estimated 10 billion plays) was finally achieved by the film’s co-star Billy Mitchell in 1999. To put that feat into perspective for rusty hands, according to an article in Oxford American Mitchell’s perfect game “required navigating 256 boards, and eating every single possible pellet, fruit, and ghost, for the highest possible score of 3,333,360, all without dying once.” The final nine pellets or “nine dots” as Mitchell refers to them had to be sought and consumed in a final level or "kill screen" in which half the screen is not visible to the player. No gag, the level was left incomplete like an afterthought by Japanese game developers. It would never be seen; Mitchell’s feat was sort of like reaching the far ends of space and finding a half-smoked joint and some Twinkie wrappers.
Like most gamers on, excuse, near his level, Billy Mitchell considers Donkey Kong a far more difficult game to master than Pac-Man.
Which brings us to the “war” in Burroughs’ quote; the war in the film is for the world’s highest score in Donkey Kong and it is still being waged between Mitchell, the Florida hot sauce king and Steve Wiebe (note: pronounced wee-bee, does not rhyme with “dweeb”), a school teacher in Redmond, Washington. When Seth and his pals began to seriously consider making a documentary on competitive classic arcade gaming they found that, while high scores come from all over the globe, the more fierce wars in the subculture seemed confined, curiously, to the United States.
“In America, we are much more interested in creating a personal legacy that will endure—that’s part of what American culture, our culture, teaches us; to somehow put together an accomplishment that outlives you. In this case, it’s being the best in the world at Donkey Kong. It’s not a surprise to me that two Americans are the best," says Gordon. "These are grown men and it’s a ‘never say die’ kind of thing, they’re committed to this task. I mean, these guys all have an innate talent, and a lot of people who see the film ask me why they aren’t working for NASA and putting their intellectual gifts to better use. And I think most people who haven’t seen the film expect this to be a ridiculous thing these guys are doing. But I have a real respect for their attempt to make history and get a score that will last forever. I think that is pretty fucking cool.”
What is not fucking cool, but cool to watch and the reason why Mitchell vs. Wiebe is the greatest video game rivalry since Masters of Doom (save those emails: The Wizard was fiction), is the flurry of shady back room calls, official rules limbo, contradictory verification processes, questionable alliances, referee sweet talking, silly taunting and an unforgettable random house-call by Men-in-Black (Doom T-shirts) that Steve Wiebe faces after submitting a tape of himself toppling a single high score in DK. Seth and the KoK crew managed to be there for all of these shenanigans and it results in ridiculously heightened stakes and intense drama. Imagine Goodfellas meets Heavy Metal Parking Lot. This kind of low behavior is typical in, well, Hollywood and the publishing industry and ideologue wars and amongst roommates with piles of unclaimed dishes in the sink, but c’mon, has over-30 bureaucracy really punctured the boyish sanctuary that is Donkey Kong?
CONTINUE: Seth talks Christmases with Vaughn, Kong controversy, Super Paper Mario: The Movie? >>> |
Billy Bitchell calls his son Little Billy? You can't be serious.
Eat a dick
Kok is classic by all standards
anyway nice article
Where did you fellas go? Did you go bankrupt?
This movie is a gem covered in Tera Patrick's juices and your article is the giant dildo.
That's a compliment from L.A.! Bring back the blog at least we are dying.
Mitchell is not a WWII flying ace, a hero or someone to admire. He's not even a human being. Give him a haircut and kick him off the planet. He doesn’t represent my USA.
You guys Rock!! Thank for the support!
Carlos Bertonatti
www.myspace.com/Carlosbertonatt