Max Headroom: 1HN Dystopian Portent

Whenever I mention the name "Max Headroom" to people my age, they often remember the old Coca-Cola commercials of the mid-80s or the Max Headroom show on Cinemax, but most people do not remember that for parts of two seasons, there was an ABC network show called Max Headroom (for those uber-nerds out there, I am well aware that Max Headroom debuted in Great Britain with a different pilot and mostly a different cast, but I'm focusing on the US version). To those people who recognized the name, I would tell them about that show and their eyes would glaze over. Then, I would move the conversation quickly in another direction...

Max Headroom took place in the future; "20 minutes in the future" as the opening tagline of the show stated. The series revolved around Edison Carter (played convincingly by Matt Frewer), a passionate, temperamental news reporter/cameraman, and his digital alter ego, Max Headroom, who was capricious, fun-loving, and unpredictable. Each episode involved Edison Carter attempting to investigate, at great risk to himself, a news story while aided by his trusty controller Theora Jones (Amanda Pays), his gruff, but sympathetic editor Murray (Jeffrey Tambor), and a boy genius named Bryce Lynch (Chris Young). All of the aforementioned people worked for Network 23, which was one of the most influential networks in the world. All the while, Max Headroom zoomed from TV screen to TV screen, wreaking havoc and yet assisting Edison and Theora whenever he happened to want to help.

Max Headroom was a character-driven science-fiction show that featured many fine acting performances, but what stood out was the dystopian, somewhat Blade Runner-type (but less foreboding, at least superficially) future that served as the stark backdrop for all of the episodes with crumbling ruins and towering, monolithic skyscrapers coexisting in close proximity and the poor living in ruins with nothing more than their clothes and a TV. In the future, everyone owns a TV and it has to be kept on and active and people seem to watch addictively. It is a future when networks devise advertising strategies to control people's minds and manipulate them psychologically and physically (as seen in the pilot episode during which "blipvert" three-second advertisements cause a large, slothful man to explode). Networks and massive corporations rule the landscape, the rich are indeed richer, and the poor are numerous, but never without a TV (which are handed out freely by the prevailing government). Ultimately, ratings are king, establishing a network's political and social clout with "two-way sampling" truly meaning that people watch TV and the networks watch them. In these ways, the future is almost like a main character in each episode, working for or against the intrepid Edison Carter and his trusty crew.

At the same time, there is a retro look to the future: keyboards are like clunky typewriters, cars are modeled after Packards and Tuckers (old cars from the 40s and 50s), and fashion seems to reflect a timeless sensibility wisely removed from 80s fashion... mostly. If anything, Max Headroom more resembles the film Brazil (which was released to theaters before Max Headroom was on TV; was Max Headroom influenced by Brazil?). Particularly, the character of Edison Carter is a Lone Ranger, standing against corporate and network injustice. Yet, he is also employed by a network, so he is often at odds with his own employers. Nonetheless, the never-anachronistic value of liberty over governement control is apparent in every episode.

Looking back at Max Headroom, what was especially striking about the show (besides the digitally stuttery delivery of the titular character) was that it was a view of the future that wasn't off the mark. Consider that Max Headroom was on the air 25 years ago, and yet the show foretold the ubiquity of TVs, how addictive and essential TV and video screens in general would become for people, and how much sway advertising and social media would have on people. Max Headroom was also portentous in its exposition of consumerism, which was assumed to be rampant in the future when people consume to make themselves happy and find fulfillment. Sure, discussing the rise of consumerism isn't an impressive prediction considering how consumerism was rampant in the 80s, but the satire is biting nonetheless. Moreover, the show also introduced a counter-cultural idea that is becoming more prevalent today: the idea of living off the grid, disconnected from mainstream media and utilities. These "blanks" in Max Headroom are much like the much-derided off-the-gridders of today that decry modern dependencies and favor a more wide-open, unfettered existence. It won't be long before "blanks" become more and more common today as people tire of everyone knowing everything about them and of our dependence on public utilities and foreign-grown produce.

What is more disquieting about the show in hindsight from a Christian standpoint is that the show (perhaps inadvertently) displays an End Times-type of future in which people are microchipped (at least, Metro cops are microchipped), religion is portrayed as flummery, and a global world order (ruled by TV) is suggested with corporations and ratings virtually governing people's actions. In this way, besides the principal characters, people are generally portrayed as "sheeple" who are more interested in the next TV show than in the welfare of others. Today, we are not far off from this future; we may not have flying cars (a la Blade Runner) or electromorphic AI like Max Headroom, but TV and, more alarmingly, smartphones have become essential for many. Screens of all kinds seem to hypnotize and anesthetize us as we walk around with our heads down or with our noses touching our screens.

Slowly, quietly, people are being blinded. Thirty years ago, even though I wasn't a believer in Christ, I knew about general End Times predictions. I used to scoff at the idea of microchips (aka "The Mark of the Beast") being implanted in people because I assumed that people would also know about those same End Times prediction and would avoid microchips like the plague. I used to think that someone would stop the rise of a "new world order" and deny the emergence of a leader that would herald himself as a modern savior, but would then turn against humanity. Nowadays, I'm not sure they wouldn't welcome the convenience of having their credit information and personal history implanted in their bodies; after all, it would beat carrying cash or having to carry or lose a wallet. I'm also not sure that people wouldn't welcome a unified global government with a leader that dictates our actions from on high; as long as we are entertained and given smartphones and our fair share of food and handouts, we won't want to rebel.

In summation, Max Headroom was an outstanding show that was indeed ahead of its time with predictions that are currently being played out now. The acting was top-notch and the veiled satire in each storyline was on par with the social commentary of the Twilight Zone and the original Star Trek series (which was actually a vehicle for social commentary, despite the wonderfully amusing histrionics of William Shatner). It is no wonder that this show was moved from time slot to time slot and eventually cancelled; much like Edison Carter, Max Headroom represented too much of a seering jab at TV and modern society to stick around. When I watch Max Headroom now, I am compelled to open my eyes to see a somewhat frightening world, the horrors of which are often obfuscated by "entertainment" and the self-gratification that comes with video games and constant Internet connectivity. I am reminded that people should stand up against the tyranny of our screens and resist being enfolded into a system that shall eventually monitor our every move once we surrender our freedom to be individuals. Already, Facebook and other social media sites retain our personal information and have been known to share it. Indeed, "20 minutes in the future" is now.

Nobunaga's Ambition: 1HN Confusion in Defeat

When I was an undergrad, I studied Japanese language, history, and culture. Admittedly, at the time, I wasn't much of a language student and much preferred the elective history classes I took over learning kanji and memorizing dialogues. One day, while I was browsing the game stacks at Electronics Boutique, I happened upon Nobunaga's Ambition, which instantly caught my eye because of my appreciation of Japanese history, particularly the warlord period before the Edo/Tokugawa period (1600-1868). It was during that period when Japan's three greatest warlords brought about events that would unify the Japanese archipelago. This game focuses on the time period of Oda Nobunaga's rise to power. He was the first of the three great warlords (who were technically not "shogun," but are often considered as such) and was probably the most fascinating of the three for his penchant for megalomania and ambition to establish himself as a leader to be worshipped.

Even knowing a little about Oda Nobunaga should interest anyone in a strategy game about conquering domains, forming alliances through marriage, and conducting trade, which is what Nobunaga's Ambition promised as a game. I remember when I first opened the game and inserted it into my Sega Genesis. I actually perused the rather substantial manual -- I didn't just scan it, but read it deeply. I started the game and duly chose to be Oda Nobunaga. I was assaulted with the bright 16-bit glory of Genesis graphics and inundated with information about my domain and my military strength. Things started out so well and I was fully prepared to engage in hours of strategic gaming...

Except it didn't last hours. In fact, my first game didn't last more than 10 minutes because in short order I invaded a neighbor, got routed, tried forming an alliance and failed, and then got routed by another neighbor who took advantage of my weakness. I recall not being upset or frustrated, but confused. What just happened? What on Earth could I have done?

Well, I tried again... and again. At the start of one game, I tried to boost my rice production and go with a trade strategy, but I would inevitably be tempted to expand militarily and be summarily slapped down. I would then try to stockpile my fighting units only to be taken out from all sides due to my refusal to act. There were some strategies I refused to try because I didn't agree with them, and probably failed as a result; one such tactic was marrying into alliances. Because it seemed dishonest to me to establish alliances only to break them, I never tried that approach, though it could have been a route to victory. (Actually, Japan was largely unified through alliances, diplomacy, and the Battle of Sekigahara, which wasn't a direct military victory for Tokugawa Ieyasu as much as it stoked the formation of a political coalition among the victorious domains). Anyway, I tried several tactics and avoided other tactics, but the results were always the same: failure to advance.

The common response to repeated failure in strategy games is to seek out whatever tips, tricks, and information out there to play and win, but because I was more of a sports gamer at the time, I didn't have the patience to find strategy guides to win at what was essentially a resource management game. In little time, I shelved the game, never to crack the case again. Today, I still own Nobunaga's Ambition. As I write this, I think about how my new-found interest in Euro-style board games, which has stoked a parallel interest in Nobunaga's Ambition. Perhaps I was in the wrong place at the wrong time with this game: as a 22-year-old sports fan, the game was too slow and too opaque for me to sit back and enjoy it. However, as a 38-year-old board gamer, I think I'll try this game again. With the Internet and mounds of potential strategy information at my disposal, I can approach the game with a renewed vigor, with optimism, and with an appreciation of the management of resources. Stay tuned for Part II, when I give Nobunaga's Ambition another try...