Stuff Turning 20 This Year You Should Either Revisit or Check Out for the First Time: Part 2

Dumb and Dumber

Few things on Earth represent the 90s more lucidly than Jim Carrey. Love him or hate him, he was the comedic phenom of the decade. Every kid in every part of the country quoted him or his characters whether they'd seen his flicks or not (the trailers for his films alone provided enough school hallway-fodder on their own to last a season or two).
Another reason why he represents the decade so well is because he and the facades he wore for us could have only existed or been accepted in the time they emerged. There is something so quintessentially then about characters like The Mask, The Cable Guy, Ace Ventura, or this, perhaps his most ubiquitous role, as Lloyd Christmas. Dumb and Dumber was the ultimate dumbass-buddy-road-adventure-comedy, a subgenre unto itself, and while it's just as easy to cringe at how tasteless and utterly dim-witted it is, it's a film that left a huge mark on an entire generation of young people. And the fact that now, 20 years later, those people (not nearly so young, now) are about to congregate for another adventure with Harry and Lloyd is a testament to that.

Why it was good back then: While characters like Ace and The Mask launched Carrey's career, they were way too over-the-top. Carrey, as an absurdist leading man, is too much. There is no room for anything else to exist and it's easy to tire of him. The reason why Dumb and Dumber works is because Carrey has a foil in Jeff Daniels' Harry, who is stupid in a much sweeter, less extreme way. This balance allows Carrey to shine and perform all his zany antics without suffocating the entire film.

Why it's worth visiting now: This film, along with There's Something About Mary a few years later, really established the comedy vernacular for the next decade or so, until around the time Judd Apatow came along and made films like these a lot more thoughtful and self-reflective. Dumb and Dumber is just as much a piece of history now as it is a funny film, the Animal House of the 90s, essentially, though it's aged much more gracefully than Carrey's other work or a lot of the other comedy films from the same era.

Final Fantasy VI

By 1994, the Final Fantasy name was already the "go-to" brand for epic, RPG experiences. Not everyone played them, but most gamers had at least heard of the franchise. In a few short years, however, Final Fantasy would be a blockbuster: it was the game everyone waited for, the game everyone looked to for a clue of what technological or narrative achievements games could reach for next as each game pushed the bar further and further. This game represents that turning point. And Square would never look back, after this, as each Final Fantasy title that emerged would become more post-modern, more complicated, and more convoluted, ultimately to the point where the entire franchise would fly off the rails. But boy, for awhile, there was nothing quite like taking a Final Fantasy game home from EB or Babbages, and VI could very well be the best one.

Why it was good back then: Until now, Final Fantasy had been a series of traditional, medieval fantasy worlds wherein one-dimensional avatars of good triumph against the forces of absolute evil. Final Fantasy VI cast that all aside in favor of a bleak, steampunk world rife with seedy political machinations, characters with real pathos and history, and what was undeniably the most down-trodden, shock-laden plot ever seen at the time.

Why it's worth visiting now: Final Fantasy games are almost immortal. Each one up until the 7th has been rereleased numerous times on numerous platforms with varying levels of enhancement (most recently, Final Fantasy VI has received a jazzed-up remake for iOS devices). Of all of them, however, none are easier to revisit that VI. The game hits you hard and fast and immediately pulls you in with its storytelling and an atmosphere sold on the merits of a distinctly fascinating art style and one of the greatest soundtracks ever composed for a video game, or hell, anything. The combat system is simple and flows beautifully without the bloated animations and long loading times of its disc-based successors. If you have any qualms about JRPGs, or RPGs in general, get over it and allow yourself to be enveloped by one of the most incredible worlds and unforgettable stories you'll ever encounter.

Fatal Fury: The Motion Picture

In the early 90s, Street Fighter II changed everything, and every game company on Earth clamored to push out their own answer to it. Some were successful, and others most certainly weren't. One of the more notable successes was SNK's Fatal Fury, the game which came closest to Street Fighter's calibre of refinement. The success of Fatal Fury allowed SNK to go forward and produce a line of fighting games such as The King of Fighters, Samurai Shodown, The Last Blade, and others that arguably matched or sometimes even outmatched Capcom's work, and the competition between the two companies and their endlessly bickering fanbases eventually culminated in their own crossover fighting game series at the turn of the millennium. For awhile, though, SNK and the Neo Geo dominated the arcades and enjoyed a rabid fandom, which led to some of their franchises breaking into other mediums such as manga and anime. Masami Obari's take on Fatal Fury is a mixed bag, starting off with two OVAs that were very by-the-book. Then, in 1994, Obari helmed Fatal Fury: The Motion Picture, which starred the familiar characters as they went on an uncharacteristically epic, globe-trotting adventure that's as undeniably fun as it is bizarre.

Why it was good back then: Fatal Fury: The Motion Picture's status makes itself immediately apparent: this film is SERIOUS. The animation is top notch (assuming you enjoy Obari's very "acquired taste" character design) and the music is fully orchestrated and FUCKING EPIC. There's lots of fanservice that no doubt made fans jeer endlessly, between Mai's infamous rack to the fact that Obari made absolutely sure he could cram nearly every character in the franchise somewhere in this film whether it made sense or not (the Geese Howard cameo is particularly head-scratch-inducing). The English version of the film also sports an eerily amazing dub with some very nuanced performances by veteran Ocean voice actors such as Mark Hildreth, Paul Dobson, and like half the cast of Gundam Wing.

Why it's worth visiting now: Like I said, this film is bizarre. So bizarre that it's impossible to turn away from once you start watching it, especially if you're an established fan of SNK's fighting franchises. This film is almost hilariously epic and much, MUCH bigger than any of the games these characters are ripped from. In previous Fatal Fury adventures, Terry Bogard and Co. went up against breakdancing street thugs, pro-wrestlers, and a badass mob boss who lived in a skyscraper. In this film, they're up against Mars, the God of fucking war. Their adventure spans such a wide stretch of the world and goes from set-piece to set-piece faster than you can keep up. Imagine if Michael Bay directed an animated Uncharted movie and swapped out Nathan Drake and his cohorts with Fatal Fury characters.

The Adventures of Priscilla: Queen of the Desert

Yet another grand, epic adventure, this one not as conventional as most others. A trio of disillusioned drag queens set out across the Australian outback on a journey after the death of their friend/lover to find meaning and companionship in a world that often isolates or misunderstands them. The film is an oddity in just about every way, but was a monumental piece of Australian cinema and one of the most significant "gay" films of its day.

Why it was good back then: Priscilla was a big deal. It meant a lot of things to a lot of different people. It provided a glimpse into a world not often seen by most, let alone Australians, who only developed a true film industry less than 20 years prior.

Why it's worth visiting now: Priscilla just feels damn good to watch. Its almost constant sass and snark is punctuated by incredible moments of tenderness and poignancy. The imagery is beautiful and alien, and its characters as timeless as they are strange.

Demon's Crest

Demon's crest is a rare, fascinating oddity that wouldn't exist in any other time. You see, back in the 90s, Capcom had an experimental side. They tried new things, took risks, and reinvented themselves at every turn. There was no frontier Capcom would stray from. They dominated the fighting and beat'em up franchises in the arcades, and at home, they canonized themselves with Mega Man. They dipped into RPGs with Breath of Fire, and for awhile, they were even the go-to developer for such big enterprises as Disney and Marvel. In the midst of their vast success and stardom, however, Capcom would modestly and quietly craft what is quite possibly the finest game they ever made for the 16-bit generation. A reboot of a side-series that spun off from Ghosts 'n Goblins, Demon's Crest is a dark, brooding action/adventure that's parts Castlevania, parts Metroid, and all awesome. Sadly, the game was a notorious financial flop and it faded into obscurity--perhaps Capcom's first lesson in the pitfalls of being creative.

Why it was good back then: No one saw Demon's Crest coming. By 1994, a lot of people had forgotten about Ghosts 'n Goblins, and even fewer remaining people were even aware of the existence of Red Arremer's (that red gargoyle that kills you countless times in the GnG games) own side-series of games on the GameBoy and NES. Anyone looking for any semblance of its origin series would have been taken aback at how drastically different it was from pretty much anything Capcom was putting out back then, though that may have been the very reason for its failure.

Why it's worth visiting now: Demon's Crest is like a 16-bit Gaming's Greatest Hits album, throwing together Mega Man X's play mechanic and Metroid's upgrade/exploration system with a coat of gothic, Castlevania paint and a soundtrack to match. It's a bit on the short side, but every moment is honed to perfection. If you've missed this game until now, and chances are, you have, do yourself a favor and play it. You'll be amazed at how well it stands up even without the rose-colored-glasses of nostalgia to ease you into it.