Documentary rec: The King of Kong
J made me watch The King of Kong today. At first, I was highly, highly skeptical. It's about Steve Weibe's quest for the Donkey Kong high score. And y'all know how interesting that might be to me? Right. Sorry, were you dozing off already?
Luckily, at the heart of the documentary is the very compelling drama of the rivalry between Steve and Billy Mitchell, the man who held the 1980's world record that was considered untouchable. Add in a video game referee with a heart of gold and a couple of slimy toadies (plus one guy who excitedly plays video games with his feet) and it was freakin' riveting.
Steve Weibe is the everyman-- the sweet, honest family man who tends to get screwed over by his own perfectionism... plus a whole lot of tomfoolery that might set your jaw agape. His amazing ability to keep pushing on to prove his skills unquestionably and above-board is really inspiring.
But of course, watching a simple rivalry movie would get sort of boring after awhile. Thankfully, Billy Mitchell fills the role of the villain with amazingly self-deluded aplomb. Not since The Karate Kid have I wanted to see a villain get his nose caved in so earnestly. Honest to my various Gods, I have never yelled "you fucking douchebag!" at my television more in such a short period of time. Like, even when watching those godawful Free Credit Report Dot Com commercials, so you know that's saying something.
I can say that without a doubt, Billy Mitchell is the toadiest, most manipulative, spineless hypocrite maybe ever. He's so smarmy that he reminds me of Criss Angel, but with WORSE hair and chipmunk teeth. Jesus christ, dude, you are NOT Lorenzo Lamas. Your initials are BM, and really, nothing else could be more appropriate. In fact, I'm going to refer to his royal scattiness as BM from here on out.
The documentary doesn't even have to TRY to make him out to be an obvious asshole. He starts out at just "self-obsessed tool" level, but is finally damned by a BRILLIANT passage in which the director Seth Gordon contrasts BM's vehement assertions of the way a title should be won with footage of his absolute and unquestionble lack of having done those things. He sets conditions for others that he has no intention of meeting himself, and deep down, it's because he just flat out can't. His drive to hold onto his title-- by any means necessary-- just comes off as fucking pathetic.
So, here's the thing-- BM set his record in the 1980's. By the official rules, taped attempts to break the record are admissable-- so when Weibe breaks the record on his home machine, he sends it in. He's the new champ-- until they check his machine and find that one of the parts has been supplied by a guy that the Great God BM really dislikes. CLEARLY, there's something strange afoot...they revoke Weibe's record without any actual proof whatsoever and urge him to set the record in public.
Crushed, Weibe rises to the challenge. He goes to break the record in a record-setting gaming hub-- on a machine that BM won't play on because he considers it cursed. He not only breaks the record, in public (as BM attests all records should be set), but receives the honor of the first ever Donkey Kong "Kill Screen" on that machine (as well as the third Kill Screen ever). All this EVEN WITH Weibe's toadie putting on public pressure and generally being a manipulative dingleberry while reporting back to BM.
Not to be outdone, mere hours after Weibe sets the record, BM submits a TAPE-- you know, the thing he disputed when Weibe beat him the first time-- outdoing Weibe's new record. And hey, that tape is full of suspicious jumps and bleeps right over the score, but for some fucking reason, they accept it rather than forcing him to submit the goddamn master copy. Weibe, once again thwarted by this obvious fuckery, is crushed.
Oh, one other bit of salt in the wound? While BM is allowed to study Weibe's tapes to learn his tips and tricks, Weibe is forbidden to view BM's. "Unfair advantage" is a bit of an understatement. BM isn't even pretending to play fair anymore.
The final conflict is set at a tournament right before the new top scores must be submitted to Guiness. The venue: a popular gaming hub in BM's neighborhood. For all of his jawing about competitive gaming in person, blah blah blah, BM hasn't competed in public in years, refusing to enter the tournament despite an invitation by Weibe and by the officials. Instead, the cowardly little turd hides from everyone in his hometown. He hides from Weibe even when Weibe comes to his restaurant to eat. (Side note, Weibe's eating at BM's restaurant is described as "uninvited"-- since when the fuck do you have to be INVITED to eat at a restaurant?)
The one appearance at the tournament BM puts in is an attempt to intimidate Weibe, stalking over his shoulder a few times while parading his wife, whose titties are on full display. Parading, really. He treats her like some kind of accessory or trophy. When Weibe politely says hello, he is pointedly and rudely ignored. DOUCHE. BAG.
Sadly, in that tournament, Weibe cannot beat BM's taped score, and it looks like the buttmunch has won. The referees, however, impressed by Weibe's skills and obvious honesty, tell him that he is welcome to submit tapes whenever he would like. A mild victory.
However, in the postscript, we learn that in 2006, Weibe legally beat BM's score. He is now the high record holder for both live and taped games.
HA. HA. HA. As happy as I am for Weibe to triumph, I am DOUBLY happy of the schadenfreude of the Bowel Movement getting flushed.
The End.
ETA: Fuuuuuuuck. According to Wikipedia, BM played in public after Weibe broke his record, retaking the title. Dammit. Godspeed, Mr. Weibe. A second flush usually does the trick.
Luckily, at the heart of the documentary is the very compelling drama of the rivalry between Steve and Billy Mitchell, the man who held the 1980's world record that was considered untouchable. Add in a video game referee with a heart of gold and a couple of slimy toadies (plus one guy who excitedly plays video games with his feet) and it was freakin' riveting.
Steve Weibe is the everyman-- the sweet, honest family man who tends to get screwed over by his own perfectionism... plus a whole lot of tomfoolery that might set your jaw agape. His amazing ability to keep pushing on to prove his skills unquestionably and above-board is really inspiring.
But of course, watching a simple rivalry movie would get sort of boring after awhile. Thankfully, Billy Mitchell fills the role of the villain with amazingly self-deluded aplomb. Not since The Karate Kid have I wanted to see a villain get his nose caved in so earnestly. Honest to my various Gods, I have never yelled "you fucking douchebag!" at my television more in such a short period of time. Like, even when watching those godawful Free Credit Report Dot Com commercials, so you know that's saying something.
I can say that without a doubt, Billy Mitchell is the toadiest, most manipulative, spineless hypocrite maybe ever. He's so smarmy that he reminds me of Criss Angel, but with WORSE hair and chipmunk teeth. Jesus christ, dude, you are NOT Lorenzo Lamas. Your initials are BM, and really, nothing else could be more appropriate. In fact, I'm going to refer to his royal scattiness as BM from here on out.
The documentary doesn't even have to TRY to make him out to be an obvious asshole. He starts out at just "self-obsessed tool" level, but is finally damned by a BRILLIANT passage in which the director Seth Gordon contrasts BM's vehement assertions of the way a title should be won with footage of his absolute and unquestionble lack of having done those things. He sets conditions for others that he has no intention of meeting himself, and deep down, it's because he just flat out can't. His drive to hold onto his title-- by any means necessary-- just comes off as fucking pathetic.
So, here's the thing-- BM set his record in the 1980's. By the official rules, taped attempts to break the record are admissable-- so when Weibe breaks the record on his home machine, he sends it in. He's the new champ-- until they check his machine and find that one of the parts has been supplied by a guy that the Great God BM really dislikes. CLEARLY, there's something strange afoot...they revoke Weibe's record without any actual proof whatsoever and urge him to set the record in public.
Crushed, Weibe rises to the challenge. He goes to break the record in a record-setting gaming hub-- on a machine that BM won't play on because he considers it cursed. He not only breaks the record, in public (as BM attests all records should be set), but receives the honor of the first ever Donkey Kong "Kill Screen" on that machine (as well as the third Kill Screen ever). All this EVEN WITH Weibe's toadie putting on public pressure and generally being a manipulative dingleberry while reporting back to BM.
Not to be outdone, mere hours after Weibe sets the record, BM submits a TAPE-- you know, the thing he disputed when Weibe beat him the first time-- outdoing Weibe's new record. And hey, that tape is full of suspicious jumps and bleeps right over the score, but for some fucking reason, they accept it rather than forcing him to submit the goddamn master copy. Weibe, once again thwarted by this obvious fuckery, is crushed.
Oh, one other bit of salt in the wound? While BM is allowed to study Weibe's tapes to learn his tips and tricks, Weibe is forbidden to view BM's. "Unfair advantage" is a bit of an understatement. BM isn't even pretending to play fair anymore.
The final conflict is set at a tournament right before the new top scores must be submitted to Guiness. The venue: a popular gaming hub in BM's neighborhood. For all of his jawing about competitive gaming in person, blah blah blah, BM hasn't competed in public in years, refusing to enter the tournament despite an invitation by Weibe and by the officials. Instead, the cowardly little turd hides from everyone in his hometown. He hides from Weibe even when Weibe comes to his restaurant to eat. (Side note, Weibe's eating at BM's restaurant is described as "uninvited"-- since when the fuck do you have to be INVITED to eat at a restaurant?)
The one appearance at the tournament BM puts in is an attempt to intimidate Weibe, stalking over his shoulder a few times while parading his wife, whose titties are on full display. Parading, really. He treats her like some kind of accessory or trophy. When Weibe politely says hello, he is pointedly and rudely ignored. DOUCHE. BAG.
Sadly, in that tournament, Weibe cannot beat BM's taped score, and it looks like the buttmunch has won. The referees, however, impressed by Weibe's skills and obvious honesty, tell him that he is welcome to submit tapes whenever he would like. A mild victory.
However, in the postscript, we learn that in 2006, Weibe legally beat BM's score. He is now the high record holder for both live and taped games.
HA. HA. HA. As happy as I am for Weibe to triumph, I am DOUBLY happy of the schadenfreude of the Bowel Movement getting flushed.
The End.
ETA: Fuuuuuuuck. According to Wikipedia, BM played in public after Weibe broke his record, retaking the title. Dammit. Godspeed, Mr. Weibe. A second flush usually does the trick.