Hey dudes and dudettes,
you know how people will endlessly hype a movie and you will avoid seeing it because there’s no way in hell that it’ll live up to the hype?
Don’t do it to Mad Max: Fury Road.
It’s seriously awesome.
That is all.
Hey dudes and dudettes,
you know how people will endlessly hype a movie and you will avoid seeing it because there’s no way in hell that it’ll live up to the hype?
Don’t do it to Mad Max: Fury Road.
It’s seriously awesome.
That is all.

So I got a Moleskine for my birthday. You know, one of those superfancy notebooks with a leatherlike black cover and a little ribbon for a bookmark. Classy shit – especially for someone who’s been using the cheapest ring notebooks on the planet.
It was so classy I was afraid to use it. After all, Moleskines are the Apple of notebooks! This was not the notebooks to make soap character sheets or keep studio count or hand out to my pupils to write their math homework in.
Whatever was going in there – it had to be me.
So I took a pen (a cheap bic, I mean, a man has limits) and I got to work. Now, two weeks later, it’s filled with the crazy ramblings of a madman – ramblings about pirates, trips through the desert and switchboards inside people’s heads. That’s right: I’m continuing my work on Caravan!
Caravan is a weird project. I’m completely enthralled by the idea, but I haven’t managed to write anything fluently yet. It’s very unlike me – I usually write like a freight train. This project is different. It’s hard. It’s long. It’s complex. And one of the scariest, most paralyzing things: For the first time since I wrote my graduation screenplay in 2012, it’s a story I really really really want to tell.
Usually, I start up Word, write half a page, stare at the words for a bit, loudly exclaim “NOPE!” and then delete everything.
If only there were a way to not be able to delete everything, I used to think.
Some way I can write the words down and they’d be permanent, I used to think.
Well, past me, think no more. Just take a pen and jot it down in style. Whatever you have written will be on the page forever, and ever, and ever.
Unless you burn it.
Maybe you should burn it?

Allow me to give you the lamest shock ever: I’ve played pretty much every Zelda game. I kicked blue knights’ ass in Adventure of Link, I spanked the Dark world and Lorule, showed the underwater Hyrule who’s boss and went back and forth through time more than I can remember.
But I have never. Ever. Ever. Played Majora’s Mask.
Which is weird, because I absolutely adored the concept: A compact world where you get three days to do as much as you possibly can before the moon crashes onto the earth and wipes everything out, forcing you to turn time back to the beginning. (I don’t watch Doctor Who, but I think wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey is in order.)
It just never happened.
Until the most elementary schoolish thing happened: I got it for my birthday. It was wrapped and everything – I can’t remember when I last unwrapped a video game! Hell, I didn’t even know they still came in boxes!
So I’ve been plowing through Majora’s Mask. And loving it. Dark, twisted, hilarious… And an absolute blast to play.
Thanks, friends, for knowing that you’re never to old to feed your inner child.

Hey guys!
Yes, I’m alive! I’ve been on the road a lot, traveling between multiple places in Belgium and Germany more than *insert terrible World War joke here*. Work has been all-consuming, so there’s little time for lengthy, in-depth blog posts about unimportant things.
That said, here’s some short, shallow blog posts about unimportant things.
That will have to do!

When was the last time I binge-watched an entire series in a day? Well, the day has come, and the show is Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. To be honest, I’d been looking forward to it for quite a while. The reason: This Netflix production (which, for a while, resided with NBC before it was canned and acquired by the online platform) is penned by none other than Tina Fey.
If we’ve spent any amount of time talking about what we consider funny, you should know the truth: I honestly find Fey one of the most funny people on the planet. Her dialogues are hilarious, her plots come together in the most unexpected ways imaginable – and no matter how absurd her characters get, she never loses sight of their emotional core. At its best, 30Rock was a hilarious comedy chock-full of crazy ideas but with a weird sense of truth at the core.
Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt certainly appears to take a page from 30Rock‘s book of absurdities, but at its core, the show’s way more down-to-earth and emotionally straightforward – if you can get past the set-up of a young woman (played by a brilliant Ellie Kemper) who gets freed from a doomsday cult after spending fifteen years inside an underground bunker and promptly moves to New York. It’s fish out of water with a twist.
I won’t go into further details. Suffice to say this show is weird, witty and wonderful. It’s drenched in optimism and honesty without being annoyingly corny. And it’s got a totally rad auto-tune theme song about the power of women.
(Little side-note: You will see a lot of women pop up in the credits, which I find awesome – women are super underrepresented and duper necessary in the comedy biz.)

After many years of living in Berlin, I finally managed to bring over my comic book collection. Like practically any Belgian kid, I used to be pretty hardcore about collecting these – and even though I later moved over to manga and US comics, my old collection still holds a special place in my heart.
Back then, I mainly had a thing for Spirou and Fantasio (or Robbedoes en Kwabbernoot as they were awkwardly called in Dutch). These adventures, who reached fame penned by the legendary Franquin, simply spoke to me, and I devoured them endlessly. Later, as the characters drove Franquin into depression and he moved on to other projects that were no less brilliant, other artists took over with varying success. Along with the artist, the art style and the adventures changed.
When I was a kid, these artists were Tome and Janry. I loved what they came up with. Along with them, they sent Spirou fighting against a robotized Marylin Monroe, changed the colour of his skin, sent him to a mob-overrun post-iron-curtain Moscow… and into the Vallée des Bannis.
That was my favourite album. In it, Fantasio would get stung by a poisonous mosquito, which rendered him uncontrollably aggressive. Suddenly, the friends became sworn enemies, as Fantasio was sick of standing in the hero’s shadow. If Spirou were to die, Fantasio would be the hero instead of the underdog! Of course, ultimately, friendship conquered all. Spirou and Fantasio were, after all, best friends. But it was the way Tome and Janry chose to frame it that made it special.

I had never seen anything like it. There was no text – only a highly cinematic piece of visual storytelling. Up to that point, I had seen comics as novels with pictures in them, where text balloons were used to get a point across. But that one page changed the way I thought about comics for ever.
And it continues to do so to this very day.

Double Fine rereleased Grim Fandango!
Now, of course, you might not be a huge nerd like me, so this might just be five words, four of which make no sense – but to me this is a pretty big deal. Grim Fandango – a Lucasarts adventure game from 1998 about crime and corruption in the land of the dead – was a huge part of my youth, one I couldn’t experience anymore because the damn thing wouldn’t run properly on modern PC’s.
Yet knowing what happened between 1998 and 2015, Grim Fandango feels like an oddity. It was a expensive production, one that flopped financially, and that put the final nail in the adventure game’s coffin. People were done with adventure games – the move in the three-dimensional worlds created much more exciting ways of interaction, and adventure games started to feel stale and weird in comparison. For all the praise I’m giving Grim Fandango, upon replaying it I cannot help but facepalm at some of the puzzles. I mean, come on, what the hell is this supposed to be:
That said, I’m incredibly happy Grim Fandango was rereleased. It’s a true classic, a somehow timeless piece of art that showcases an era, and the height of a genre that was inevitably on the way out. You can get it on GOG.com, and you really should.

Lot of stuff happening at the moment. Writing, reading, planning… It’s kind of crazy. Yet admidst all this chaos, I still find time to play a game — in this case, Wolfenstein: the New Order. And it’s pretty brilliant.
We all know Wolfenstein from the first person shooter that changed the world back in the nineties. Suffice to say the franchise has fallen from grace since then — that is, up till now.
I don’t want to spoil too much, but New Order takes place in an alternate universe where Nazi Germany dropped an atomic bomb on Manhattan and in doing so, won World War 2. From this general idea stems a dystopian world in which the Nazi ideology is taken to its horrible extreme.
The thing is: We’ve seen this before. There’s tons of movies in which the Nazis are made into a depersonalized science fiction-like threat. In that aspect, New Order is no different: its world is grey and menacing and its inhabitants stereotypically amoral. Yet New Order does something right a lot of other games do wrong: It creates a compelling main character in B.J. Blazkowicz.
Blazkowicz (voiced by a downright amazing Brian Bloom) is a seriously troubled character, haunted by the demons of war – and amidst the gargantuan action pieces, the game takes its time to let the character breathe. He whispers to himself. He starts a tragic wartime relationship. And whatever he does, the game never gives him a break. He’s the essence of a tragic character.
In this way, the game reminds me of the excellent Spec Ops: The Line. Yet whereas The Line was pretty balanced in its evolution from heroic shooter to apocalypse now, taking baby steps and then chucking us head-first in the abyss, New Order takes a different approach: It nearly suffocates us with its horribleness and then lets us catch a breather — before starting the whole process over again.
The game’s out on Steam and on pretty much every console. I recommend the international version, which switches between brilliant directed German, English and Polish as you blast your way through Europe. Plus, the German language version is obviously censored – albeit slightly.
Oh, right, the whole gameplay with shooting dudes thing is also done quite well if you’re into that sort of thing. But who cares about gameplay anyway…?