What If Copyright Was Still 28 Years?

One of the easiest ways to demonstrate how eminently reasonable a 28-year copyright duration – the United States’ original copyright length – is to look at what would and would not be public domain if we switched to a 28-year copyright right now. Ordinarily, a sudden legal shift like this would be devastating. Even if the new law is completely reasonable and better than the current system, pulling the rug out of people who made plans around current laws would be disastrous for people whose only crime was failing to anticipate the laws being changed immediately, with no grace period to change course. But a 28-year copyright doesn’t actually do that! We could seriously just declare that all copyrights last only 28 years, that all copyrights older than 28 years have expired as of right now, and it would be fine.

Let me demonstrate.

Genshin Impact

Genshin Impact is a phenomenally successful and quite recent intellectual property, first released in 2020. That means it will remain under copyright for full 28 years, going public domain in its 29th year of release, 2049. That is a fucking sci-fi year. Genshin Impact is not remotely at risk of being devoured by copycats stealing their thunder at the height of their popularity, because the height of their popularity is not going to be 29 years after they’re released. Things sometimes take a couple of years to rev up, but not three decades, come on.

Star Wars

Even under a 28-year copyright scheme, the entire Prequel Trilogy is still under copyright. While Star Wars fans and competing studios would be free to make new stories in the Original Trilogy and the first phase of the expanded universe, Disney’s control over the prequel era means that competitors either have to look to Disney’s canon and make their new stories compatible with it or else accept the daunting task of taking the OT and maybe some of the 90s books as the only canon and attempting to compete with Disney’s canon. On the one hand, Disney’s canon isn’t very popular. On the other hand, you’d have to try and convince people to accept the de-canonization of the Clone Wars and the Knights of the Old Republic. You can pick up Princess Leia’s reference to the Clone Wars in A New Hope and tell an entirely new version of that story and that would be cool and all, but it would have to be entirely new, which means it would decanonize the Clone Wars TV show, which means a lot of Star Wars fans will not follow you there. It’s technically possible to fight Disney for the Clone Wars era, but even under a 28-year copyright scheme, you’ll lose. They control the foundational IP for too many beloved stories in that era.

But there’s a time limit on that. In 2024, you can’t use battle droids, the planet of Naboo, or the vast majority of details of the Jedi Order before Order 66. Disney has the copyright on all of those, and anyone who wants prequel stories has to get them from Disney. But in 2028, the copyright on the Phantom Menace would expire, and by 2033, the copyright on Revenge of the Sith would be up. Now it would be possible for competing studios to make prequel-era content compatible with the prequel canon that people love, even if specific episodes and new ideas introduced by the Clone Wars would remain under copyright for a while. You wouldn’t be able to make stories about Ahsoka Tano until 2037, but you could make stories about clones fighting battle droids as early as 2031, and it would be easy to make them compatible with Ahsoka Tano’s existing stories even if you can’t directly reference or recreate them. Disney isn’t doing anything particularly exciting with the character of Ahsoka Tano these days either, so by 2031 (when Attack of the Clones would go public domain) you have all the clone troopers, battle droids, and Mace Windus you need to tell new stories in the era that don’t contradict anything fans already love. At that point, as long as you can produce better movies and TV shows than Disney, you can fight them for control of the Star Wars canon and win.

This puts Disney on the clock: They can either start making good, new Star Wars content in the few remaining years while they still have control of critical IP, or if they can’t, then it’s an open call to any studio who thinks they can make good Star Wars movies to release enough bangers that they seize the crown of “the Star Wars guys” in the eyes of the public.

Marvel/DC

If the public domain had been radically expanded in 2005, Marvel still would’ve been able to build the first three phases of the MCU because no one else was able to build a decade-spanning franchise like they were. If it had been radically expanded in 2015 (around when Age of Ultron came out – easily the weakest Avengers movie, but not bad enough to derail the MCU) no one would’ve been able to wrest the title of “the Marvel guys” away from them, both because of their affiliation with original creators like Stan Lee and because they were making good movies. If it had been radically expanded in 2020, then yeah, Marvel Studios would probably have lost their crown as “the Marvel guys” by now, because nobody liked Phase Four and four years is enough time for competitors to get some films out. Or maybe superhero fatigue is real and nobody can produce popular superhero movies anymore because the genre is too tired. Whatever.

The point is that regardless of the state of copyright law at any point from 2005 onwards, it is unlikely that anyone would’ve been able to stop the MCU from happening up until the point when it turned mediocre. Drastically curtailing copyright lengths wouldn’t have stolen those characters from Marvel Studios, just given them to anyone else who thinks they can do better.

And on the other end we have DC. DC’s cinematic universe is a continuous trainwreck. There have been several individually good movies, but they have way too many bad ones for anyone to ever feel good about the whole. Batman and Superman would’ve been an absolute feeding frenzy, and the worst thing that could’ve happened is that more bad movies about these characters would’ve come out, which wouldn’t have made things any worse (you’re under no obligation to see them), or else someone else makes the Justice League work and now the number of good movies goes up.

Every superhero anyone cares about is already past a 28-year copyright deadline, but that would not have stopped any of the superhero movies that were any good from being made. Or if it did, it would’ve been because they were outcompeted by other, even better movies. But the reason nobody made Iron Man movies except Marvel Studios in 2008 isn’t because no one had the copyright. Studios who wanted the copyright to Spider-Man, X-Men, and Daredevil had gotten their hands on it and, either immediately or eventually, squandered it. The reason why nobody but Marvel Studios made Iron Man is because nobody but Marvel Studios believed in Iron Man’s potential as a movie.

The Legend of Zelda

This one I bring up because nothing would change. Yeah, you’d be legally allowed to release a game called Zelda and try to compete with Tears of the Kingdom. Good fucking luck.

Pokemon

The copyright on the original 151 Pokemon and the Kanto region would expire in 2026 under a 28 year copyright term, and if anything that just proves that 28 years might be too long. People are trying to make Pokemon knock-offs left and right, and while Game Freak isn’t exactly doing an amazing job with the franchise, the wall that people keep running into is that 150 is a big number. Games that try to take the concept in an interesting direction run into the problem that it ceases to be recognizable, while games that stick to the Gen 3-5 formula risk succeeding and being knock-offs. What this franchise desperately, desperately needs is to give fans access to some of the earlier generations of monsters so that someone can take the concept in a new direction while still having Bulbasaur and Pikachu in it. A lot of media works by taking something familiar and putting a new twist on it and the Pokemon fan-game sub-genre is being absolutely strangled by the inability to use the actual Pokemon as the familiar thing, leaving us with games that have to make everything else familiar and use a new set of ~100 monsters as the “twist.”

Nintendo won’t want to give up on this cash cow because it’s made them $50,000,000,000, but also it has already made them $50,000,000,000. What kind of idiot would try to argue that anyone will be dissuaded from making new stories and intellectual property because Pokemon was only able to make $50,000,000,000 before going public domain? Particularly when Nintendo will still have copyright over every other generation, which will either encourage them to give those generations a bit more love rather than recycling Gen 1 over and over and over again or else see the entire franchise slip through their fingers one generation at a time until the games people actually like are all in the public domain and they’ve got nothing left but the likes of Sword and Shield.

And in order to avoid cluttering up the list with a half-dozen similar examples, here’s a bunch of other intellectual properties that could be producing lots of fun new interpretations but which aren’t, because it’s just not practical for the majority of creators to sell an audience on two different new concepts for one project, which means by the time you’ve finished selling them on the idea that your version of [thing] is interchangeable with the original, you have exhausted their patience for new ideas and have no room left for the new twist you’re putting on [thing]:

-Gundam
-Warhammer 40k
-Godzilla (and King Kong, but Kong is public domain in the reasonably attainable year of 2029)
-Judge Dredd
-Tomb Raider (past the 28-year mark in 2025)
-The Elder Scrolls
-Diablo (past the 28-year mark in 2026)
-Fallout (past the 28-year mark in 2026)
-Half-Life(!) (past the 28-year mark in 2027, although Half-Life 2 isn’t until 2033 – Valve’s been cool about people selling Half-Life spin-offs on Steam, so copyright law probably isn’t standing in the way of a third-party Half-Life 3, but this just goes to show that you can let people pick up your famous-but-abandoned properties and it’s fine)
-Jason, Freddie, and an assortment of other slashers
-WarCraft (although you would want a lot of the lore from WarCraft III, not past the 28-year mark until 2031)

In all these cases, I think the most fertile ground for new stories comes from relatively low-budget indie productions who wouldn’t be able to afford a license even for a mostly-abandoned property, or else they’re being squandered by their current owners, or sometimes a combination of the two. Warhammer 40k already gives out licenses with such hit-and-miss quality that whether or not a specific 40k game or book is any good is a crapshoot, why not open the floodgates completely? Let some indies take a stab at making a better Godzilla video game, or at making a Judge Dredd TV show or game. Maybe the threat of someone else making Elder Scrolls VI will convince Bethesda to stop fucking around with Skyrim rereleases. The Diablo series is a trainwreck that would benefit from going back at least to III, probably II, regardless of copyright law, and the sucking maw of evil that is Activision-Blizzard isn’t going to rescue the series.

Harry Potter

Under a 28-year copyright term, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone would go public domain in 2026. A lot of the iconic imagery comes from the films, which would start going public domain in 2029. Most of what people actually care about from Harry Potter would be public domain with the first film, although there’s a few elements like the Marauder’s Map and the Deathly Hallows (the symbol, at least) that would take longer. But for the most part, a more sane copyright duration would break JK Rowling’s grip over the setting within just a few years.

This is also an example of how 28 years is way more than enough time to prevent original works from getting eaten alive by cheap imitators. The time when Harry Potter fanfic frenzy peaked was like twenty years ago and a 28-year copyright term would still only be almost expired on the first book.

Dragon Ball

Dragon Ball Z premiered in the United States in 1996 and DBZ Abridged started releasing in 2008, so although 1984’s Dragon Ball manga would’ve been completely public domain as early as 2013 (still five years ahead of the 2008 release of their first episode, though), the footage they used for the first ten episodes (not counting any brief cuts from things like the Bardock special) wouldn’t be public domain until 2023. It would barely now be legal to make an abridged cut of the anime and sell it.

I use this example to demonstrate that it’s not like a 28-year copyright duration would be some kind of anarchy where anything goes. Even artistically valuable projects that help newer voice actors and directors develop their talents to a professional level and thus clearly serve the public good wouldn’t have been strictly legal under a 28-year copyright term. It is, if anything, still too long.

I don’t want to give it a separate section, but Sonic the Hedgehog is a similar story playing out right now. I’m sure whoever’s making the movies would be desperate to avoid facing competition because they are okay at best, but the world would be a better place if that Jehtt guy on YouTube could start building hype and a team for Sonic Adventure 3, officially Kickstarting in 2028, the first year Shadow the Hedgehog would be in the public domain.

Frozen

One of the biggest losers of a 28-year copyright duration would, of course, be Disney, who would lose half of their iconic Disney princesses immediately. Elsa and Anna wouldn’t go public domain until 2042, though, so they’ve got mountains of time to figure out another money printer before losing that one. Competitors can use Snow White, Cinderella, Ariel, and Jasmine, including their iconic Disney appearances (even ripping screens straight out of the films, which would be in the public domain), but not yet Mulan or Rapunzel. They also wouldn’t be allowed to call their toys, TV shows, etc. etc. Disney princesses, because the name Disney would still be covered under trademark law. You can use Steamboat Willie in your own media now in the Alpha Timeline where he’s gone public domain, but you’re still not allowed to trick people into thinking it was made by or in affiliation with the Disney Company.

Competitors can sell Belle and Ariel, but if your kid’s favorite princess is Moana, you’re still stuck with Disney. While Disney would undoubtedly lose some sales, even enough that I’m sure they would hate a 28-year copyright term, they’ve actually been pretty cool about shows like Once Upon A Time and the birthday princess industry. Despite having positioned themselves as the ultimate Final Boss of copyright law, even the drastic “change the copyright duration to 28 years and apply the new law to all works regardless of the law under original date of publication and put it into effect immediately and without warning” hypothetical doesn’t actually damage them that much.

Final Fantasy

For starters, the name “Final Fantasy” should probably be trademarked, because it doesn’t describe a specific setting or characters, but rather the work of a specific company in a certain genre. The only thing that unites the Final Fantasy series is that they are JRPGs made by Square-Enix (not even every JRPG made by Square-Enix, but whatever). But the first six games in the series would still be public domain, so anyone could host them for free download (or sell copies of them, but if free archives haven’t completely dropped the ball, it should be easy to find a free download of famous media in the public domain), and you could make sequels and spin-offs and remakes of those, specifically. So the Fabula Ultima guys could release official stats for the characters, settings, and monsters of Final Fantasies I-VI, for example, they just couldn’t call themselves Final Fantasy while doing it, and once the Final Fantasies with more famous setting names hit public domain, you could start using names like Midgar City Stories, Squall in the Garden, or Spira Chronicles. Those names won’t grab people as hard without the Final Fantasy prefix, and if that leads companies to try and build an identity around abstract titles rather than specific IPs then that would be great please do that.

Final Fantasy VII wouldn’t go public domain until 2026, which means that Square’s remake series would be well into its run before anyone else would be allowed to release a competitor, and it’s well-received enough that such a competitor would have to absolutely blow Square’s version out of the water to make it a favorable comparison. People are already going to be predisposed to think of the former IP holder as the “legitimate” continuation of the series, and they have to seriously fumble the setting to lose that. And Final Fantasy VII was famously a game that people clamored for a remake of for years before finally getting one even under existing copyright law where there was no threat of someone else picking it up and walking away with it in 2026.

This is another demonstration of just how long 28 years is, and how easy it would be for any reasonably competent company to retain de facto control over an IP even after its original installments are in the public domain. So long as they manage to take the story in an interesting direction in any of the 28 years since original publication, those follow-ups mean people will look to them as the “real” owner of the setting and view others as cheap knock-offs or, at best, a B-team making compatible material. And if they go 28 years without making anything good enough to stop a competitor from riding into the setting and making a follow-up that captures the public’s good will, then maybe they should suck less.

Edgar Allen Poe Abridged

The Tell-Tale Heart: It has been alleged that I am insane, but I assure you, no madman could possibly have premeditated a murder as thoroughly as I did. Let me write down all the details for you.

The Cask of Amontillado: You remember that asshole Fortunato who was always rubbing my nose in how much richer and more successful than me he was? Yeah, this one time I murdered him as a prank.

Masque of the Red Death: Once a prince and a thousand of his noble courtiers sought seclusion from a plague ravaging the countryside and so retreated into an abbey with seven totally isolated apartments, six of which were bright and colorful and the seventh was, like, super cursed. A reanimated corpse showed up a to a masquerade ball six months in and the prince was like “a good stabbing will sort you out” and chased the Red Death into the cursed room and then everyone died of plague. Honestly, the weird thing is that it took this long for disease to catch up to a thousand people living in an abbey with seven apartments.

Murders in the Rue Morgue: My good friend proto-Holmes has discovered from interviewing those who overheard the deed that the perpetrator of the gruesome murders at the Rue Morgue spoke a language that none of them recognized. From this it follows that the culprit is obviously an orangutan.

The Pit and the Pendulum: Nobody expected the first torture porn to have been published in 1843.

The Raven: I found a parrot having a goth phase who only knows the word “nevermore” so I keep asking it if good things will happen to me and getting angry when it says no.

The Black Cat: I love animals so much. You wouldn’t believe how much I love them. I did tear a black cat’s eye out that one time but in my defense it did bite me. And yeah, I did then hang it, like, with a noose, but it kept looking at me with its one remaining eye and being scared of me and I don’t need that kind of judgemental energy in my life. But I love animals so much that I adopted a new suspiciously similar looking cat to make up for it. And sure, it reminded me of the cat I murdered so much that I tried to axe murder the cat and when my wife tried to stop me I axe murdered her, but see above regarding judgemental energy. I am focusing on self-care right now and I cannot let these toxic cats I keep adopting get in the way of that.

The Fall of the House of Usher: My good friend Roderick Usher’s sister died so I helped him entomb her and then read him a bedtime story. The house obligingly provided sound effects matching what was going on in the story, something which neither of us decided was worth investigation. Turns out we accidentally buried his sister alive and she was screaming and banging on the walls of the tomb. Long story short they’re both dead now.

Misa Amane Is Smarter Than You

The general consensus of the Death Note fanbase is that Misa Amane is an idiot that Light gets saddled with in order to throw the delicate balance between him and L back into uncertainty, thus keeping the story interesting. The general narrative purpose of Misa is definitely accurate. She’s not as smart as Light, but she has more supernatural power than he does, which means she represents both a chink in his armor and a potential opportunity for him. She’s also obsessively in love with him, which means Light’s only choice for passing on that package is to kill her, which would cast a shitton of suspicion on him, further incentivizing to accept Misa’s assistance.

But while Misa Amane is not as smart as Light Yagami, she is smarter than you. It’s predictable but still annoying how many fans arrogantly assume Light’s perspective on this, that Misa Amane is an idiot far beneath their own level of intelligence. In fairness, Misa herself projects this image. Like Light, she puts a lot of effort into her appearances, and the appearance she projects is that of a bubbly goth-pop idol, which means she intentionally comes off as kind of dumb. But her actions reveal repeatedly that she is smarter than average – she only comes off badly by comparison to Light and L.

Unlike Light, she is much less deliberate about her appearances. Misa would never spend a tennis match trying to figure out if it’s more or less suspicious if she wins or loses. For starters, tennis isn’t part of her goth idol style to begin with, but even if it were, she would blindly assume that there’s no way a tennis match could give any meaningful information to L about whether or not she’s (a) Kira.

And she is 100% correct. One of the things that sets Death Note apart from other media is how it shows intelligent characters, especially Light Yagami, going through the process of questioning assumptions about the world, including the part of the process where their initial assumptions turn out to be completely right. L can’t and doesn’t get any meaningful information about whether or not Light is Kira from that tennis match. Its only purpose in the story is to show that Light is constantly thinking about these things even when it turns out he’s in no danger at all, because an effective ploy to discover his identity won’t announce itself, so he has to be always on.

Misa, on the other hand, only stops to think about something when she sees some obvious sign of danger, and when she does that, she can come up with some really clever ideas. Sending a tape to news stations as Kira is obviously dangerous, so she stops and thinks about how to do it without getting caught and comes up with a good plan. She tricks an unnamed friend into getting her fingerprints on the Kira tapes, so not only did Misa leave no evidence herself, she’s put misleading evidence on the tapes instead. Now, if the police arrest her friend, the Kira murders will continue unabated. The tapes might be chalked up to another one of Kira’s supernatural powers, mind-controlling people to send messages. Misa also already knows this friend’s name and face, so she can tie off the loose end in an emergency – she offers to do so for Light. Considering how quickly she makes the offer, this is presumably her plan as soon as her friend gets arrested, since her friend has enough context to figure out what Misa did once she knows that her fingerprints appeared on the Kira tapes somehow.

Be real: You probably would’ve known to wear gloves while making the Kira tapes so that you wouldn’t leave any fingerprints of your own, but you absolutely would not have constructed a ploy to trick someone into planting their own fingerprints on the tapes in order to frame them.

Having done one smart thing, Misa then decides that the universe now owes her success, and makes no effort to get rid of the stamps, stationary, or pen that she used to fake the message, let alone make sure that any of the pollen on the envelopes is all stuff that can be found in the Kanto region, where Kira is by now publicly known to originate from. She’s not fully stupid with this, she keeps all that stuff in her room, but she isn’t anywhere near the paranoid overdrive that allowed Light to stay level with L long enough to get enough lucky breaks to eke out a win.

Every time Light gets frustrated with Misa being “stupid” it’s for something that no ordinary person would’ve ever thought of. He’s not angry that Misa is dumber than average because she’s not. He’s angry because Misa is dumber than him, that he could do better if he were in her position, and also because he’s a megalomaniac who lashes out whenever anything goes wrong for him. The closest thing to an actual dumb move Misa ever makes is when she forgets L’s name, but this 1) comes after two months of supernatural memory-erasure bullshit, during which she was unable to use the kinds of tricks people normally do to keep important information in their head over a long period of time.

And 2) this also comes at the part of the story when the emphasis on the real, practical intelligence of characters is totally collapsing anyway. The only reason Misa even reaches her hidden death note is because L has suddenly gone braindead and forgotten that he has tons of physical proof that Misa sent the Kira tapes and is definitely complicit in the Kira murders, and allows her to walk around totally unsurveilled. Yeah, yeah, there’s a fake rule in the death note he recovered that suggests Misa can’t possibly be using the death note to kill people, but 1) L immediately suspects that rule might be fake, something more in line with his usual level of intelligence, and 2) even if it didn’t occur to L that the rule might be fake until after he’s done this, all this proves is that Misa did not personally use the death note to kill anyone. She’s still definitely in on it, and letting her walk away unsurveilled could still let her provide critical assistance to Kira. Shinigami eyes work through photographs! A 2004 flip-phone is absolutely capable of killing L! I’m not marking Misa down for forgetting a name when L is also acting much, much stupider than normal.

Misa Amane is, similar to Light Yagami, a depiction of intelligence laid low by hubris. She gets what she wants for a while before ultimately losing everything because it turns out she’s not as smart as she thought she was. Like Light, she’s used to being the smartest person in the room and assumes that anything she tries will work the first time because that’s usually how her life goes. She goes up against the deep institutional knowledge of the police, cleverly jukes one method of getting caught, and then gets blindsided by three more that the police have worked out over a century of trying and failing and trying again, whereas Misa acted alone (her meeting with Light came afterwards) and only got one chance to get everything exactly right.

Lord of the Rings Plot Holes That Aren’t Plot Holes

Some of the most well-known Lord of the Rings “plot holes” are actually very easily explained.

“Why didn’t they just fly the eagles to Mordor?”

Sauron has air units. Given the lack of any specific numbers given for the number of eagles, the number of those hell-hawk wyvern things the ringwraiths ride around on, and how far off Sauron’s lidless eye would’ve been able to see the eagles coming, we have to assume that all those numbers work out in favor of the conclusion that informed characters in the story come to: Sneaking the Ring in on foot is more likely to succeed than trying to punch through Sauron’s air defenses with the eagles.

“Why wasn’t Mount Doom guarded?”

It’s impossible to willingly destroy the Ring. Hobbits are significantly better ringbearers than Sauron ever accounted for and Frodo still couldn’t manage it. Gollum destroyed it by accident. The fumes from Mount Doom also make it difficult to climb and, presumably, preclude the stationing of orcs on its slopes or especially at the Crack of Doom itself. Frodo and Sam pass out several times on the way up. Sauron totally does surround Mount Doom on all sides with tens of thousands of orcs, and when he moves them away, it’s because he thinks Aragorn has the Ring and is using it to try and attack him at the Black Gate. So when he moves his orcs away from Mount Doom, it’s because he thinks he’s repositioning them so that they’re all between the Ring and Mount Doom, where normally half of them would be on the other side of Mount Doom from the Black Gate.

Miles Morales Is A Vital Part Of The Spider-Man Myth Cycle

Super heroes are mythical figures. Their stories get told and a canon of their exploits and adventures gets built up from the stories that people like enough to bother retelling. Sometimes a definitive work is written that incorporates basically all of a mythical cycle in one text, like Le Morte d’Arthur, and sometimes the myths never get collected in one place but the overall life story of a character still emerges from all the different stories, like the Trojan War (of which the Iliad recounts only the crucial turning point, not the entire story).

For example, here’s the rough life story of Batman that has emerged from 100 years of stories:

Bruce Wayne’s parents, Thomas and Martha Wayne, are killed by a mugger in front of his eyes as a child. When he grows up, he dedicates himself to martial training, physical and mental discipline, and leveraging his wealth towards becoming the crimefighting vigilante Batman. Early on he’s angry and brutal, and his butler Alfred is his only confidant. His foes are organized crime gangsters like the Falcone Family, Penguin, and the Black Mask. As his career goes on he forges relationships with allies like Jim Gordon and Harvey Dent, and begins training an expanded roster of sidekicks who graduate into hero allies: Batgirl, Robin, Nightwing, Huntress, the Bat-family. Batman’s growing roster of allies allows him to finally start healing from seeing his parents die as a child, as he begins raising a family of his own, of sorts.

The relatively ordinary criminals who were his nemeses fall to the wayside under his caped crusade, but the power vacuum gives rise to a menagerie of more bizarre foes: Scarecrow, Mr. Freeze, the Riddler, Twoface (after a tragic accident disfigures Harvey Dent and pushes him over the edge), and most iconically, the Joker. Batman and the Joker fight for the soul of Gotham for at least a decade, long enough for Jason Todd to go from Robin to Red Hood. During this era, Batman joins the Justice League, becomes friends with other heroes but especially Superman.

At some point, Joker dies. The myths vary as to how, exactly. Sometimes Batman finally breaks and kills him, sometimes he gets himself killed in one of his fits of reckless showmanship. Regardless, once Joker’s gone, the fight for Gotham is basically over. Other supervillains continue on, but by this point defectors are starting to line up for Batman’s side. Catwoman, initially a wild card, is firmly on Batman’s side (though not a reliable ally). Red Hood, initially sided firmly with the rogues gallery, is now more or less on the Bat-family’s side. Talia al-Ghul flips sides completely and mothers the youngest of the Robins with Bruce Wayne.

Batman Beyond may or may not fit into the mythic cycle. It’s a specific work written with only the Animated Series in mind, skipping over the entire Death-of-Joker era (which the Animated Series didn’t have) to set up its post-Batman setting. Batman Beyond is well-regarded so the motive is there to try and incorporate it into the cycle, but it’s also hard to reconcile the state of Gotham City in Beyond with the unambiguous fact that late stage Batman has a huge reserve of sidekicks and hero allies most of whom are younger than him. What happened to Nightwing? What happened to Talia? What happened to Damian Wayne? Terry McGuinness is a really good Batman but it’s weird that he’s on his own with just an aging, physically incapacitated Bruce instead of playing Robin to Nightwing or Damian.

Anyway, the somewhat confused state of the end of the Batman cycle is both totally normal for mythic cycles and also doesn’t detract from the greater point. Nobody ever set out to gather all the Batman stories into one collected narrative, but people have told stories of young Batman and old Batman and a rough outline of Batman’s life has emerged from it all.

So what does all this have to do with Spider-Man? Well, Spider-Man’s been a more soap operatic character for a long time. The core of Spider-Man is the coming-of-age story, of learning how to wield the power he’s been given. Spider-Man can never seem to get past, at maximum, the age of about twenty-eight or so, and he’s noticeably falling behind his peers in standard life milestones by then, with no children and not even married. And it’s not because he doesn’t want these things. Black Cat offers very much to lead Peter into a life that rejects the standard social norms, and while he dabbles with the idea, he never actually does it. In the end, Peter Parker’s love interest is Mary Jane, not Black Cat, and the usual vibe of a Black Cat arc is that Black Cat misunderstands who Spidey is and why he is where he’s at. She assumes that Spider-Man is failing to marry Mary Jane because he doesn’t really want to, that he’s being pressured into pursuing it by societal expectation, but the course of the arc reveals that Peter Parker very much does want to be a regular boring member of society, he’s just crushed by the dual-burden of also using his superpowers to keep people safe from supervillains.

And if Peter ever gets past that angst and struggle, he won’t be Spider-Man anymore. People want Peter Parker to eventually figure things out and get to live a happy, balanced life, but there’s not really any story there, so we only ever see Peter in that 15-28 age range. Unlike Batman, there’s no phase where his rogues gallery crumbles away to leave behind a board full of allies arrayed against a shrinking number of enemies, and implicitly total victory is now imminent. Flash Thompson gets to mature from high school bully to a hero-without-powers, Eddie Brock/Venom gets to become an anti-hero who’s finally gotten over his vendetta with Peter, but Peter himself has to be tormented by angst, trapped in eternal purgatory, never able to grow past being a well-intentioned high school or college student who’s doing his best to handle the enormous responsibilities life has thrust on him.

Until Miles Morales. As originally introduced in the Ultimate comics, Miles Morales is a replacement for a dead Peter Parker. That’s a valid way to do his character, I guess, but it does mean that Miles tends to be basically just Peter Parker but again. Having no active Peter Parker to contrast against, it’s easy for Miles to gobble up all the usual Peter Parker things that people expect from a Spider-Man story.

The version of the story told by the Spider-Verse films, though, tells it differently. Sort of. It actually repeats the Ultimate plotline pretty straightforwardly for Blonde Peter Parker. But Blonde Peter Parker isn’t our Peter Parker. Our Peter Parker struggles under the burden of being both Peter Parker and Spider-Man, and frequently fails at one to pull out a win for the other, almost always sacrificing Peter Parker for the sake of saving the city as Spider-Man. He doesn’t have a high-tech spider cave, he has a shed. He’s Peter B Parker, the man who was never able to be there for Mary Jane or anyone else in his life as much as he wanted to be, because there was only one Spider-Man, and it had to be him who saved the city, every time, and usually there wasn’t any time left over to be Peter Parker after that.

Until Miles Morales. Now there is another Spider-Man. Now Peter can take the night off to be with MJ while Miles takes care of things. Finally, at long last, he gets to marry Mary Jane (yes, they did get married in the comics, but the relationship worked so poorly that even though fans utterly loathed the arc that decanonized it, they still never went back on it). He gets to raise Mayday Parker. He gets to have all those things that his myth cycle up until now has only portrayed him as wanting and not getting to have.

Like Batman Beyond, the Spider-Verse films are very hard to fit into the overall myth cycle of Spider-Man, although (also like Batman Beyond) they’re sufficiently well-received that people might damn well try anyway. That is, it’s hard to fit the events of the Spiderverse movies into the generic life and times of Peter Parker that emerges from what stories get retold over and over again. Spider-Man has the advantage that the entire second half of the protagonist’s life is basically blank, though. While the majority of Batman stories take place when he’s in his 30s, stories about Old Batman are very much a thing in a way that stories about Old Spider-Man aren’t, really, which means “what’s Peter Parker like in his 50s” or even “what’s Peter Parker like in his mid-to-late 30s” does not have an agreed-upon answer in the myth cycle so far, so although the Spiderverse answer is deeply incompatible with many, many other stories in a way that, for example, the Venom symbiote is not, the lack of competition means that Spiderverse might win anyway.

But even if the Spiderverse angle gets contained to the Spiderverse movies and gets ignored by other Spider-Man stories (like the Insomniac video games), I think Miles Morales is crucial to Spider-Man’s overall myth cycle. Spider-Man needs to be angsty, a mess, unable to keep up with all the responsibilities thrust on him by both his regular life and his superpowers. But if Miles Morales is the main character, then Peter Parker doesn’t have to be like that – he can finally get his ducks in a row, figure out his life, be Spider-Man part-time to help show Miles the ropes and provide backup for major crises but spend most of his time raising his spider-baby with Mary Jane and living a normal life.

A Quick Pre-Sequel Rewrite

I’ve already done a rewrite of the climax of the Borderlands Pre-Sequel, but that was a very zoomed out outline of how to make the ending more impactful. During that post, I talked about how the line-by-line writing often fails, so I want to zoom in and do a rewrite of some specific dialogue as an example of exactly what the problem was and how to fix it.

Here’s the situation up to the bit of dialogue we’re looking at: At the start of the Pre-Sequel, you, a band of 1-4 intrepid vault hunters, meet Handsome Jack, your new employer from the Hyperion corporation, on the space station Helios. Unfortunately, it’s under attack from rival corporation Dahl. You escape to the surface of the moon Elpis, but Jack has to stay behind to fire the improvised escape vehicle. He’s trapped on Helios, so you need to get to the moon city Concordia to get the fast travel coordinates for Jack so he can beam down to the city before Dahl’s mercenaries catch him and kill him. Down on the surface of the planet, we discover that Elpis does not have air and get saved from asphyxiation by Janey Springs, a local junk dealer. After the quest that introduces Janey and tutorializes how oxygen works out in the frontier wilderness of the moon, Janey points you at the first bandit clan you’re going to murder in this game, and the curtain rises on our scene, copy/pasted directly from the transcript of the game (although I have removed lines from optional DLC characters, since I only plan on writing for the four characters in the main game in my revision).

Continue reading “A Quick Pre-Sequel Rewrite”

Card Queen Is Better At Being Harley Quinn Than Harley Quinn

To immediately qualify the clickbait title: There is a trend in modern Batman to make Harley Quinn into an anti-hero. Generally speaking she leaves the Joker for being an abusive boyfriend and strikes out on her own, often with help from Poison Ivy and/or Catwoman, keeping the general Harley Quinn style but fighting now for the good guys. This comes up in the Suicide Squad movies (particularly the good one, although the bad one did something similar, just without Joker being abusive – and there’s signs that the Joker was originally supposed to betray Harley Quinn but it was cut from the final movie), the Injustice games, and it’s the central premise of the Harley Quinn TV show.

Particularly in the TV show, though, the focus on Harley Quinn in particular highlights problems with the premise. Harley Quinn’s whole aesthetic is derived from an obsessive tailing after the Joker – if she’s leaving her abusive relationship behind, why isn’t she ditching that aesthetic? For that matter, Harley Quinn’s only superpower is being handy with a baseball bat and her primary skill is psychiatry, although plainly she’s not very good at that. You could rewrite her backstory so that she’s successfully rehabilitated some number of supervillains (even if they’re just D-listers like Calendar Man), but then you’re on the hook for writing the Joker such that he plausibly converted a psychiatrist who’s actually good at this, rather than a true crime fan girl with an obsessive streak that made her good at school but bad at medicine.

Fact is, the good ending for Harley Quinn is that she leaves the whole clown crime aesthetic behind to become a criminal psychiatry professor at Gotham University, teaching students without any more direct interaction with the super-criminals she has such a dangerous fascination with.

But while that’s a good ending for the story of Harley Quinn, it’s not going to carry a TV show. And the fact is, sexy female Joker-flavored anti-hero taking over the underworld is a cool premise. I can see why people want to wrench Harley Quinn into that role despite the rough edges. But the perfect character for literally exactly that was created in 1976: Joker’s Daughter, also known as the Card Queen.

Continue reading “Card Queen Is Better At Being Harley Quinn Than Harley Quinn”

Wyrd Sisters: What Happened To Esk?

Wyrd Sisters is the second book in the Witches sub-series of Discworld, and the sixth book in the series overall. I’m not super concerned about the other sub-series in this post, though, so we mainly care about the first book, Equal Rites, and Wyrd Sisters itself. We also care about Sourcery, the fifth book in the series overall and the third book in the Rincewind series, mainly because of the implications it has for several of the characters in Equal Rites.

In Equal Rites, Granny Weatherwax helps Esk, the first female wizard, realize her destiny and learn wizardry. Granny Weatherwax is a witch, not a wizard, and in Discworld witches and wizards are very separate schools of magic, one only for women and one only for men. This is the fundamental premise of Equal Rites, although of course Esk upsets everything by becoming a female wizard. At the end of the book, Archchancellor Cutangle of the wizards’ Unseen University asks Granny Weatherwax to be an extracurricular professor for the university, hoping to encourage more women to enter the profession by employing a female professor. The exact details of the arrangement aren’t clear, but the basic idea seems to be that wizarding students will go to Granny Weatherwax for a summer to learn some witchcraft and round out their magical education a bit. It’s the capstone to a sub-plot of Granny Weatherwax and Archchancellor Cutangle putting their differences aside and recognizing what they have in common, mirroring Esk’s own journey in which she waffles between witchcraft and wizardry, always sticking up for the one when a practitioner of the other is talking shit.

Esk (and, for that matter, her friend Simon) is a student at Unseen University as of the end of Equal Rites, third book in the series overall. Then in the fifth book of the series, Sourcery, Unseen University gets obliterated at the center of a new mage war as a sorcerer (an ungodly powerful super-wizard) dissolves the old order of wizards, leading to a free-for-all that leads to an attempted coup against the gods (thwarted not by the gods but by Rincewind, the Disc’s least capable wizard). There is no mention of what happened to Esk. Now, fair enough, Sourcery is not in the Witches’ sub-series, Rincewind has no idea who Esk or Simon are, so he wouldn’t be checking up on them.

Being a book in the Rincewind series, it involves a lot of traveling to exotic locations, encountering fantastical perils, and running away from them at top speed (or, in one case, hitting them with a half-brick in a sock), so there’s not a ton of time spent in Unseen University itself, and most of what we do see directly concerns the sorcerer’s takeover and the disastrous results of the subsequent reordering of the wizarding hierarchy. There’s a lot of talk about how wizards don’t and shouldn’t marry or especially have children (the eighth son of an eighth son is a wizard – the eighth son of a wizard is a sorcerer, and sorcerers are calamitous) and the upper level wizards are all male, but given the recency of Esk’s acceptance into the University and the relative timidity of the integration of female wizards, it’s not surprising that none of them have cracked the upper ranks yet and that they’re still too few in number to be a noticeable presence in the sorcerer’s power struggle. There’s no sign of Archchancellor Cutangle, but the new Archchancellor is said to have been relatively recently appointed, so we can assume that Cutangle bit it at some point to make way for a new character who could more suitably play the role required in the plot of Sourcery. That’s kind of sad, Cutangle was shaping up to be a pretty good Archchancellor despite his flaws, but the plot of Sourcery kind of demanded that the University have a mediocre Archchancellor instead – so it goes.

All well and good for Sourcery, but that does mean Sourcery left Wyrd Sisters on the hook to resolve the fate of Esk (and, implicitly, Simon), because it stars Granny Weatherwax (along with new faces Nanny Ogg and Magrat, the mother and maiden respectively to Granny Weatherwax’s crone). If nothing particularly terrible had happened in Unseen University or Ankh-Morpork (the city the University is built in) then we could assume that Esk is getting along fine while Granny Weatherwax and the other witches are confronted with other troubles off in the Ramtops, far away from Ankh-Morpork. But at last accounting, Esk was at ground zero for the apocalypse! A line about receiving a letter or something would’ve been appreciated, to establish she’s still alive (or alternatively, a line about a funeral to confirm she was a casualty of the war, although that seems like an especially grim fate for a twelve-year old girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and put in a book’s worth of great effort to be there).

It can’t be that Wyrd Sisters is a prequel, either, because it’s a plot point in Equal Rites that Granny Weatherwax doesn’t like to fly on broomsticks and it is a plot point in Wyrd Sisters that she came late to flying on broomsticks but now does it rather a lot. The exact positioning of Sourcery in the timeline is unclear, but I feel like if you’re going to nuke the last known location of your previous book’s protagonists and have readers not worry about it because the Rincewind plot is all set 50 years before the Witches plot (or whatever), then you’ve got to be pretty ham-handed with establishing the timeline, either with explicit lines in the book putting events relative to one another (i.e. “fifty years before the time of Simon there was another sorcerer, a real sorcerer…”) or else by heading each chapter with an actual date.

Discworld is a pretty loose setting which doesn’t generally truck with that kind of timeline finnickiness in the Tolkien tradition. In the first book, Terry Pratchett jokes that you can’t map a sense of humor, and thus kicked Rincewind and Twoflower around to different locations heedless of how exactly they bordered each other, and this is fine. By Wyrd Sisters, we are dimly aware that Ankh-Morpork, Sto Lat, and Lancre are all city states in some kind of proximity to each other, but we don’t really know the details of their international relations with one another, like, we have no idea about the other two city-states’ opinion on the Lancre coup that sets off the plot of Wyrd Sisters, and that’s fine. The books aren’t about these things.

But one whole book in the series was about Esk and Simon and Cutangle, dammit, and if you’re going to start the end of the world from their last known location, some words as to their ultimate fate would’ve been appreciated.

The Book/Movie Backlog

My video game backlog project has worked out pretty great for its intended purpose: Pushing me to try new games instead of revisiting old favorites over and over again, replaying them about as soon as I stop being completely sick of them. The problem I’d identified long ago is that every time I wanted to play a video game for a while, it almost always meant I was kind of tired and unfocused and needed to recharge, which means I was in no state to scroll through a list of 500+ video games in my Steam library and pick out something new. I’d play a spate of new games about once a year or so when I’d give myself a goal to play through a specific category, like every Star Wars game in my library, or every Metroidvania. This would work for a while, but after a few weeks I’d get sick of that category and drift back to playing whatever.

During my Star Wars kick after this year’s May the Fourth sale, I felt my interest in the project ebbing, noticed the pattern, and decided to solve it by creating a list of every video game I wanted to play. The broader subject matter means that, when I got tired of one category, I would switch to a different one, not replaying old favorites yet again. And it worked: My Star Wars playthrough has been on hiatus for months, but once I’m in the mood again, I’ll pick up where I left off, rather than feeling like the project is abandoned and starting a new one. Anyone following the blog will remember that I’ve mentioned exorcising Ubisoft from my soul, getting closure on their series and then moving away from them, and while that project has successfully carried me through to the end of the Assassin’s Creed series and into Far Cry, I’ve intermixed tons of other games with it. The “make peace with the fact that Ubisoft sucks and maybe always did” project tends to dominate my chunky, 20+ hour playthroughs, but since I’m also playing lots of 5-10 hour games, I’m not getting burnt out on it the way I have in the past.

But also, video games have completely taken over my hobbies. It used to be, when I needed to recharge, I would scroll over Steam and Netflix and my Kindle library until something popped out at me. Video games were always a plurality if not majority, but I’d also watch movies/shows and read books semi-regularly. Now, the process of finding a new game is much easier, which means I gravitate towards that. The solution, plainly, is to create similar backlogs for books and movies. The problem is, that’s going to be much harder.

The creation of my video game backlog has a lot of prerequisites. The backlog was over 180 games long at start and new games are added on a monthly basis. I didn’t just pluck out a half-dozen games that I’d never gotten around to, and that was the point: By being really huge, it’s easy for me to pass over a game that I don’t feel like playing right now and come back to it later. But in order to build that huge list, I needed to have 500+ games sitting in my Steam library, a list that I cut down to less than 200 by going through game by game and asking myself if I really cared if I never played this video game.

The reason why I had 500+ Steam games in my library was because of 10 years of accumulation from Steam wishlist/sales, Humble Bundles, and Humble Choices. Each of these sent new games past me on a more-or-less monthly basis for something like $5. Steam sends me a steady stream of recommendations based on what I’m already playing, and I’ll wishlist anything that looks interesting. During major sales, I’ll grab a few games if they’re heavily discounted enough. Humble Bundles regularly serve up packages of games that usually include one or two headline titles along with a dozen or so others, and while most of the other dozen never make it to my Steam library, some catch my eye and I give them a shot. The Humble Choice works the same way, except that the games aren’t even grouped by publisher or category, which is how games like Yes, Your Grace and Crypt of the Necrodancer find their way into my library.

And this is what books and movies/shows are missing. If I’d embarked on this project five years ago, Netflix probably could’ve served me on the movies/shows angle, if only minimally. Their recommendations and new releases would’ve served a similar role to Steam, and being a one-stop shop for all audio-visual media meant that once I paid my monthly subscription, everything was free. This means I don’t have to decide whether I want to risk money on a show I might like or might not – anything that looks interesting goes on the list (the video game equivalent being a combination of Steam wishlist and games from Humble bundles that I was already buying for other titles in the bundle). Unfortunately, the Balkanization of streaming services means that nobody has access to the data they need to offer me recommendations that are more hit than miss, and nothing like Humble Bundles – a package deal that includes several more obscure titles alongside one or two attention getting big ones – has ever existed.

Books are even worse. While Amazon certainly has an algorithm, it doesn’t seem to be very good at its job, and I still have to pay for every single title I take a chance on. I’ve tried using Amazon/Audible the way I use Steam, and the end result is that I spent a lot of time on books I abandoned halfway through because they were bad. Humble Bundle has book bundles, but they’re usuall either graphic novels or non-fiction, and the rare occasion on which I’ve tried one of their book bundles, I found its quality was abysmal. It has a lot of short story collections, which I have learned tend to be two or three short stories from really good writers to draw people in and fifteen from the publisher’s poker buddies. Instead of Yes, Your Grace, I get Shipwrecks Above. That collection also had the phenomenal Coldest Girl In Coldtown, but the only reason I realized that story was good and read it is because someone told me about it, and I doublechecked the one book of vampire short stories I had lying around to see if it included that one. There’s probably one or two other good stories in there, but I’d have to sift through a bunch of junk to find them. My video game backlog isn’t like that. September had 4 Regrets to 6 Complete, and I considered that a bad month for Regrets, plagued by technical difficulties!

The recommendation for Coldest Girl In Coldtown worked out great, so that presents a potential solution: Get recommendations. The problem is, if you ask a random individual for their favorite books/TV shows, you will mostly get an inventory of things they read when they were fifteen or which remind them of things they read when they were fifteen. If you ask a broad group for their favorites, you will get things that have broad appeal, with nary a trace of any Yes, Your Graces or even Crypts of the Necrodancer. People who can give reliable recommendations do exist (the guy who recommended me Coldest Girl In Coldtown has a really good track record), but they’re rare. I can’t easily find a group of 50 of them, ask them for recommendations, and assemble a 100+ entry list from each of them giving me 2 or 3 recs each.

I’ve begun assembling book and game backlogs in text files. It took ten years to build up my video game backlog, so even if the tools are not ideal, getting started on the book and movie backlogs right away seems prudent. So far they’ve all got a single digit number of entries, though, and I’m not sure how to open myself up to the steady stream of recommendations that would allow them to expand.

Fantastical Combined Arms

I really like it when a story has fantastical combined arms. For the uninitiated, “combined arms” refers to using different weapon systems operated by different soldiers together to cover for each other’s weaknesses and maximize effectiveness. The one that’s been going around the news lately is using infantry and armor (which mostly means tanks) together so that enemy infantry don’t blow up all your tanks with javelin ambushes. Primitive militaries (even when their gear is high-tech, like modern armies with pure armor units with no infantry attached) tend to sort units by weapon type, because that’s simpler and more straightforward for the commander, who is in charge, but advanced militaries (even when their gear is low-tech, like iron age armies with infantry and artillery (i.e. archers and/or slingers) mixed together in a single unit) mix different troop types together, training them to support one another for more tactical effectiveness.

Having fantastical combined arms not only improves verisimilitude, since combined arms is effective across so many technological and geographic landscapes in the real world that it’s hard to imagine a fantasy setting where that wouldn’t also apply, they also make for more interesting gameplay and more varied fight scenes.

As recent posts suggest, I’ve been playing through the Force Awakens recently, and while that game is mostly pretty meh, its unit variety is occasionally really good. They have a decent variety of different stormtroopers and stuff, which is cool but not a big enough deal to justify an entire blog post, but what really caught my attention was the penultimate battle on the first visit to Felucia (right before Shaak Ti). The Felucians have tamed rancors, a bunch of melee warrior mooks, a powerful chieftain in front, and a shaman who provides buffs in back, and they all cover for each other really well.

The rancors are the headliners, of course, with powerful melee and ranged attacks (they can hurl boulders at you) that will deal most of the damage to Starkiller. They’re vulnerable to being kited with Force lightning, though. You can blast them with lightning, during which time they’re stunned and can’t retaliate, and then run away while your force recharges to blast them again. Their hurled boulders aren’t hard to dodge if you’re focused on a rancor alone.

This is where the warriors and especially chieftain come in. The warriors can swarm you while you’re blasting the rancor with lightning, hitting you while your hands are occupied and you can’t defend yourself, and the chieftain has a much faster ranged attack that can interrupt both your Force lightning and your melee combos. The chieftain and warriors can both be defeated by giving them a quick blast with lightning, and then moving in for a full damage lightsaber combo before they recover from the shock, but the Force shaman can give the warriors a shield making them immune to lightsaber attacks. Due to their sheer numbers, blasting them all down with lightning is impractical.

The shaman is extremely vulnerable to any sort of attack, but doesn’t have to be anywhere near the frontlines to boost their allies, so in this fight the shaman hangs back behind the rancors with a couple of warriors around as a last line of defense.

It’s only the mid-point of the game, so the battle still isn’t especially difficult. The extremely agile Starkiller doesn’t have a whole lot of difficulty getting past the rancors without killing them, and taking out the fragile shaman at the back. With the shaman dead, you can thin out the warriors with quick blasts of lightning for stun followed by a combo for damage, dispatching a warrior or two before any of the rancors can catch up and dish out serious damage, and you can use the Force repulse power (which sends out a Force push in all directions, knocking away everyone nearby) if you get surrounded. Once the rancors’ warrior support is too thinned out to interrupt the lightning, you can kite them to wear them down. There’s three of them and they’re too big to be affected by Force repulse (despite the fact that a couple of weeks later at the most, Starkiller literally pulls a star destroyer out of the sky, so you’d think he’d have the whole “size matters not” thing down hard enough to toss a rancor around like a ragdoll, but you’d be wrong), so you have to be careful not to get surrounded, but Starkiller’s agility saves him again, easily able to outmaneuver the lumbering monsters to keep all three on one side.

Then you have to finish them off with a quick time event, which, god, can’t the finishing animation just play automatically? The Force Unleashed usually uses them infrequently enough that they’d be perfectly good as a quick spectacle as a reward for defeating a mini-boss (although this encounter specifically is a bad example, since there’s three rancors at once – probably best to let the first two just die and only use the finishing animation on the last one), but because there’s a quick time event slapped on, I’m distracted from the animation and the sequence feels annoying and anti-climactic instead of rewarding. Oh, well. Nothing’s perfect.

I use a video game example here because that’s what prompted the post, but you can see how this could apply to prose or animation or whatever. The enemies don’t just have extended health bars or deal more damage, the way in which Starkiller fights them is different. He might start out trying to blast the rancors with lightning and get swarmed, then try to fight the warriors and find the shaman keeping him at bay and the rancors catching up with him.

After using his Force-empowered agility to leap through the trees past the frontline and catch the shaman, swiftly dispatching them (after a short chase) with his lightsaber, the rancors would catch up, he’d try to blast them with lightning again, and get swarmed by the warriors and chieftain. After using Force repulse to clear away most of the warriors, he’d have a melee fight with the chieftain while dodging stray warriors and rancor swipes, and then, once the chieftain is down, unleash the full power of his Force lightning to fry the rancors.

You might cut two of the rancors if they feel redundant, and you definitely want the ending to be a single sustained burst of Force lightning, long enough that the audience gets how the warrior swarm was able to interrupt it, but not dragging on the way the game’s kiting strategy would, and you’d also want to rely on Force lightning a lot less for fighting the warriors and chieftain so that it can be reserved as the rancor-killing finisher move, but the basic pace of the fight is the same.