South Park’s boys are always playing video games, so it was no surprise to see Kyle, Kenny and Cartman jamming to Lady Gaga on Rock Band in last night’s new episode, “Whale Whores.” But what makes it extra-special is the Eric Cartman from-the-diaphragm-spin on “Poker Face” (including the bit of anti-dolphin improv at the end). Watch at southparkstudios.com by clicking here.

(via Kotaku)

P.S. Their dead-faced concentration is so, so true to life. Like, when was the last time you even registered your avatar dancing around on the stage? Never, that’s when.

The New York Times writeup of this scene says more than I ever could about the film and the role of the game in this context:

“An early encounter between Theo and his powerful cousin Nigel (Danny Huston) lays out the film’s moral and political topography as clearly as would a cartographer. . . . The men chat briefly, then join a third, younger man at a large dining table in front of Picasso’s “Guernica.” This furious protest — which commemorates the 1937 decimation of Guernica by Nazis, Italian Fascists and Spanish Nationalists — has been reduced to wallpaper.

“We got to keep ‘Las Meninas,’ ” says Nigel, “and a few other Velázquez. But we only got a hold of two Goyas. That thing in Madrid was a real blow to art.” Theo replies: “Not to mention people.”

Seated with his back to Picasso’s writhing black-and-white figures, Theo spins a tall tale in a ploy to secure the transport papers. As Handel swells on the soundtrack, Theo continues spinning his lie and a servant tries to serve him: he waves the man away with a practiced hand. Nigel listens to Theo with vague detachment and murmurs a few words about the difficulty of the request (“That’s quite a favor”). He then turns to the third man, who is busily playing some kind of game wired to one hand, and says, “Alex, take your pills.” Alex, his emptied-out eyes fixed on the game, doesn’t seem to hear. Nigel repeats Alex’s name quietly twice more, then roars it. Alex takes his pills without pause, his fingers mechanically tapping.

Nigel beckons Theo away from the table and the two men face each other before a wall of windows. Outside, the pink pig floats in the gray air, defying the burden of its symbolism. Nigel offers Theo a pillbox, and the offer feels like a threat (“Take your pills, Theo,” you can almost hear him murmur). Theo declines with a wry smile. “What?” asks Nigel. “You kill me,” says Theo, “a hundred years from now,” there won’t be one sad soul “to look in at any of this.” Theo turns to take in the room, as if sweeping everything — the wounded statue, the neutered painting, the silent servants, the growling dogs, the pig above, the sheep below — into a careless heap. “What,” asks Theo, “keeps you going?”

Nigel pauses, before stating the obvious. “You know what it is, Theo. I just don’t think about it.”

“Uno, dos, tres, toca la pared!”

These words, part of a child’s game, open the scene in the Spanish film The Orphanage (El Orfanato), a subtle, well-wrought horror film produced by cinema master Guillermo del Toro.

The film is well spooky – there were a couple of instances where I shrieked (apparently making it that much scarier for the friend I was watching with). The plot (which you can read about, spoiler-free, here) focuses on a woman who returns to the orphanage where she grew up, and the mysterious and disturbing events which permeate the household after her son makes an imaginary friend.

The game she and the other orphans play is known as “Un, dos, tres, chocolate inglés“. One child faces a tree (or a wall), and counts (in the film they say, “Un, dos, tres, toca la pared”) while the other children creep forward, freezing when the counter turns to face them again. This is similar to the American game “Red light/Green light.” There are also variations in the UK (“What’s the time, Mr. Wolf?“) and Japan (“Darumasan ga koronda“).

The game appears a few times in the film, a way to show both the clarity and inscrutability of their innocence, which serves as both a source of joy, and of terror. Similarly, a scavenger hunt played by mother and son is great fun for the child, naive of its implications, while the mother grows increasingly frightened as she becomes aware of what it could mean.

In trying to research this part of El Orfanato I found a few references to the childrens’ game, but many were related to the film, making me wonder if its box office success in Spain helped generate a renewed interest in the game. (According to Wikipedia, it took in $8.3 million over four days, giving it the biggest opening of the year and becoming the second highest-grossing debut ever for a local movie.)

But for my sanity’s sake, I hope that’s not the case. Considering how spooky the film is, I would be really freaked out should I ever come across packs of children playing this thing.

Writing about my experiences with casual gameplay has been a fruitful experience. It’s made me consider the amount of time I spend on games, the way I interact with them, and the reasons I am drawn to certain genres. Simultaneously, it’s also made me a lot more aware of other peoples’ habits, approaches and attitudes toward games. And as I’m both an avid Netflix user and am never one to pass up a potentially meaty blog post topic, I decided that I will make a note every time a game appears in a film or television series I’m watching, in what context it’s used, and its purpose. Behold! A new category is born: gamespotting

Off the top of my head, I can think of plenty of examples where games are used by characters to pass the time, but are quickly discarded when the “serious” work arises – no matter how game-like those pursuits might be:

• Card games are rampant in films today, especially high-stakes gambling, and show roguish qualities in a character, but are used in a cautionary manner (Bond films, 21, Penelope).
• Chess (and Go) games usually take place in smoky professors’ studies or in public parks, and are a great way to show a character’s cleverness and aptitude for math and pattern recognition (as in one brilliant episode from the first season of The Wire).
• Scrabble is a useful tool to explain an anagrammed sentence without too much hassle to the audience (Sneakers, Rosemary’s Baby).
• Crossword puzzles can be a mark of either intelligence or idiocy, depending on how well the character fills in the answers, and if they use a pen or a pencil.
• Games themselves are also used as cautionary tales, when the game blurs the line between itself and reality (WarGames, The Game, Jumanji)

Of course, I’ll also include full reviews of game-specific films, be they documentaries (Wordplay, Assembly Not Required, Second Skin) or films based on games (Super Mario Bros., Silent Hill, Resident Evil).

I’m really looking forward to this exercise. Know of any good films that deal with games or gaming, or have you spotted a game being used casually in media somewhere? Let me know!