Will E3 Ever Get Its Groove Back?

Of prostitutes, suicide, moviemakers, Maker's Mark, caged parrots and the worst E3 show ever.
7/23/2008 11:43 PM | 0 Comments | Page 1 of 5

"I been charred and I been scarred
On my own face
But I never thought I'd see you as I did today."
-- Rilo Kiley, "The Angels Hung Around"

Los Angeles, Day One

Boom, boom, boom, goes the salsa on South Broadway. Hot, hot, hot are the streets. Steps away, there's the woman selling candles and Death Art (skeletons with fangs, her specialty), and a few steps down, tons of cheap Mexican leather goods, mangoes for sale, and parrots squawking "Get me outta the cage." Towering Gus Mastrapa leads us into a dark, ancient video arcade where the oomph among players is unmatchable and the decorations on the walls make me wide-eyed because they're old-ass, like eerie clown Tillies from a West Coast Coney Island. Even in Clifton's Cafeteria, an homage to redwood forests, neon Jesus stuff and faux waterfalls, there was dynamism among the eaters. Created in 1931, it's not just the world's largest cafeteria. You go into this dark, fake redwood tree/chapel, peer through a window to see some unrecognizable diorama, and get a speech about God from a thundering voice.

Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God. Back in the stark, unforgiving daylight was some explosive energy that was going to pop, pop, pop like someone was going to be shot at any minute, or as if some couple would start making out and strip down and just do it in the next second. Gus is telling the Crispy Crew about the fact that John Fante, Charles Bukowski's inspiration, lived only a few blocks away, and life becomes hyperreal. Life has got its icy blue spark, and the synapses are taking it all in. The energy, the energy, the energy! Enough to lift you off your feet, enough to make you forget the utter fallacies people you call friends spew, and you are flying down the street without the power of wings, just life.

Los Angeles, Day Two

And then there was E3, the down-sized, downtrodden, down-market videogame conference. See, after the big show imploded and the carnival atmosphere was stripped from it like skin off a living human, the makers of E3 couldn't get its rhythm and groove back. Its new skin was paper-thin like a kid with epidermolysis bullosa, so it couldn't rock anymore for fear of death. Everything seemed one or two beats off -- all tempered and fearful and mouse quiet at that.

Now, don't get me wrong, I didn't want to see J Allard strut around in a hoodie, making like Microsoft is the hippest street kid in the universe. But I didn't want to see Xbox honcho Don Mattrick look all out of place and off rhythm, while at the same time trying hard to be calm and collected, either. Yes, there were important games like Gears of War 2 and Fable II, but it was like watching Elaine from Seinfeld do that jerky, hitchhiking dance. Sweet, fancy Moses! I know the guy's an executive and not a performer. That's the point, though. Maybe they should hire a professional host who has experience in entertainment if they're going to try to entertain. A guy like me can't concentrate on the games when things are off-rhythm. The mind wanders. There's no focus, no there there.