The Building Chronicle: A Critical Consideration of LEGO's "Bionicle" Series - Building Through part 4.2 - 2004

Okay, catch up time again. I feel a bit bad rushing through 2004, but I really want to get on with thinking through this series, and the 2004 line have been built and on my shelf for a long while now. Plus, 2005 has some really very cool combiners I'm eager to get to. Once again, I'll apologize for the cellphone picture quality, though this is a panorama, so that's kind of neat, right?

One of the earliest posts in this series was of Ultimate Dume, the large figure next to the lava lamp in this picture. He's one of my favourite builds in the series and provides a remarkable amount of poseability and articulation. He incorporates the three Titan sets from this wave, the first true titan sets, with the possible exception of 2003's Makuta. It was recently pointed out in fan circles that Makuta, considering his fundamental role in the series, only really receives proper sets in these early years. Ultimate Dume is his manifestation at the end of the first Metru Nui storyline.

A closer look, and we can see the Vahki, a robotic police force that kept the Matoran of Metru Nui working. It's a bit strange to me, this need for enforcement drones, but when one realizes that the Matoran exist within a vast robotic body (more on this in later years), perhaps the Vahki can be seen more as control programs, making sure that the smaller parts of the body accomplish their assigned tasks. To the far right of the picture is Turaga Dume and Nivawk, one of the titan sets that comprise Ultimate Dume. This version is meant to be yet another manifestation of Makuta, who took over Dume's form in the last years of Metru Nui. This ephemeral nature of Makuta is perhaps a clue as to why we don't see any other actual physical manifestations, though he does end up possessing numerous characters throughout the rest of the series. As Bionicle exists in a far simpler world, similar to that of superheroes, Makuta's actual possession of other entities, and his evil nature, make him easy to read as a metaphor for the evil that seems to be inseparable from sentient creatures.

Also of note in this picture are the Kranua and the Kraawa, combiner models using, respectively, the Vahki and the Toa Metru. As the parts comprising each figure type become less and less specialized over the course of the series 10-year run, the combiners we're given are more like sets themselves, rather than models cobbled together from other sets - the 2004 combiners suffer from this. 2005's combiners take a quantum leap forward in dealing with this, but the 2004 combiners definitely point toward a more nuanced idea about combiners from the Lego designers responsible for them.

The final bit of this year shows us the titan sets Nidhiki and Krekka, the combiner models Kralhi and Kraahu, and one of the first really complex models the instructions for which appeared in Lego Magazine, the Lohrak. The combiners are yet more robotic policing drones, and there's something really horrendously totalitarian about the idea of these massive robots keeping watch over the Matoran, who fill the roll in the series of the innocents that we're meant to sympathize with. Krekka and Nidhiki are servants of the possessed Turaga Dume during this story, Krekka being one of the most reviled sets because his build is so chaotic. I'd agree with that assessment, but I also recognize that it comes from a place of morphological symmetry which we human beings struggle with. Nidhiki is one of the most interesting characters in this series, and does much to add to the lore of Bionicle, as it is revealed that he was once a Toa who defected to a league of assassins known as The Dark Hunters (who we'll see a little bit next time), and was mutated into his current insectoid form.

And we'll finish 2004 there. A good year, full of innovations in both builds and story, and a real darkening of the plot, which only continues in the next story with the animalistic Hordika, and the almost-betrayal by one of the Toa Metru of his team.

Microcollections 2: Horror Role-Playing Games

One of my main collections is my archive of Lovecraft and Lovecraft-related stuff. I've been a fan of his writing almost as long as I've been a comics fan, which is to say most of my life. Part of that collection is my shelf of Call of Cthulhu role-playing game books. As I've picked up, bit by bit, CoC stuff over the years, I've also branched out, slightly, into other horror-related gaming titles. Mostly this is in an effort to find things I can apply to Cthulhu, but every now and again, I discover something really cool in and of itself.

I'll start with Chill, the books that are arranged at the bottom of the picture. These are from two different versions of the game, from two different gaming companies (and, if I'm not mistaken, another version is being released imminently). Chill, both versions, has a really cool aesthetic to the volumes, and plays more into the traditional horror genre, featuring werewolves, vampires, ghosts, and cryptids of various kinds. Also, this is from well before the White Wolf-inspired games of playing horror monsters as sympathetic characters, a boundary that defines this little collection, actually. I generally don't go in for the Anne Rice/Stephanie Meyer-style of horror game. I'm more interested in the interaction of "normal" people with the abnormal than with the abnormal as metaphor for the normal. The book at the back, Beyond the Supernatural, is of a similar ilk, and investigatory adventure into the weird.

De Profundis really ought to be a part of the Lovecraft collection, but it's got enough potential on its own to merit being thought about separately. It's a letter-writing RPG, intended to mimic the epistolary-style of some old pulp horror stories. One is meant to take on a persona, write letters on a typewriter, and engage in something called "psychodrama," that is, venturing out into the world but allowing yourself to see it through the lens of the character and narrative that you've taken on. I haven't managed a proper game of it yet, but I live in hope. In front of that is a game I'm relatively unfamiliar with. It's amongst the latest additions to this collection. Little Fears is a RPG that asks you to take on the role of small children and to fight the kinds of nightmares that such people have. I feel like it could be a really disturbing game, which may explain why I haven't given it a go yet.

Finally, Kult, arranged at the top right, is a game for which I actively seek out books. It plays with Gnostic Christian thinking, and is set in a city that is the archetype of all cities, inhabited by creatures who have been imprisoned by God, or gods. The system itself is a bit clunky, but I enjoy the background material so much that I don't mind. Kult is one of those games that I'd love to run, but that you would need a really serious group of gamers to pay. One day.

The Building Chronicle: A Critical Consideration of LEGO's "Bionicle" Series - Building Through part 4.1 - 2004

Since I've dropped the ball a bit on this series, I'm going to play some quick catch up and do a two-parter on the beginning of the Metru Nui saga in 2004. As I write this, the Bionicle fan community is reeling from the news that Generation 2 is being cancelled. There's a lot of vitriol and criticism aimed toward Lego's handling of this new iteration of Bionicle, which I've come to understand is what fans do when they feel they've been wronged by a company or property. I get it, but I also think that the attitude that comes across of a company somehow owing something to the fans is a bit misguided. Yes, we buy and support their products, but these companies put the products out to make money, not to contribute somehow to culture, be it big or small. I'm happy to have had a bit more Bionicle, to have been given some new elements with which to build, and to have seen new interpretations of some of my favourite fictional characters.

One major criticism has been over the simplicity of the storyline, a criticism with which I fully agree. That said, at the end of the Netflix series Journey to One, we're introduced to a shadow realm within which Makuta is trapped, along with a number of Otokans, so I think that had the series continued, we would have seen some interesting cross-dimensional battle. And intimations of a coming Toa of Light were also pointing toward a more fleshed out storyline.

In Generation 1, 2004 is where the story really started to complexify. The revelation that the Turaga of Mata Nui had been Toa thousands upon thousands of years ago, in a city of great technological accomplishment to boot, began the movement of the series through its pseudo-fantasy beginnings and into a cool amalgam of fantasy and science fiction - an amalgam that I think I might equate, as I do with so much, with myth.

(Let me just apologize for the picture quality. I used my cell phone, and the lighting was a bit low.)

So what do we do with the fact that the Matoran and their protectors lived in an island city ten thousand years ago, a city located deep beneath the island of Mata Nui, and that they somehow were forced to migrate from that city to their far-less-technological island home? Coupled with that is the fact that not only were the village elders of Mata Nui Toa, but they were shepherded through their transition into Toa by an even older Toa, last surviving member of his own team. Four years into the story we begin to realize that there's so much more going on than simply a battle between Makuta and the Toa. These new/old Toa are far more unsure of themselves, and the shift of colour from the bright primary colours of the Toa Mata to the darker colours of the Toa Metru signals a shift in tone that resonates through the rest of the Generation 1 story. Even more interesting is that these Toa were originally Matoran, so we begin to question where exactly, or rather who exactly, the Toa Mata came from. The answer is not so simple. Further, these Toa are aware of the history of these heroes through a vast and proud history, and of the various factions around their world that oppose both the Toa and the Great Spirit, and who support the machinations of Makuta. Clearly by this point in the series' production, Lego had decided to let their creative team loose, and the team had jumped at the chance.

But what of the builds?

As I noted earlier, the Toa Metru are the first figures to allow for articulation of the head piece, giving us the ability to use that articulation to communicate emotion and attitude. It's a quantum leap forward for the toys. Not only this, but the arms now have elbow and knee joints, so action poses become a possibility - the toys are beginning their move from mechanical/Technic building to the portmanteau "craction" figures. We still have a gear system inside the Toa's bodies, which does make posing from the shoulders difficult, and it's a difficulty that was only ever solved by removing the gear systems altogether. Whether or not this was a good idea is something best left to individual opinion. The Matoran builds of this wave are only slightly better than those of the previous wave. They're not particularly wobbly like the 2003 Matoran, but they're also not particularly poseable, given the limited range of movement of their arms, legs, and heads. They are also only really nice to look at from the front. From behind, they are completely unfinished, which makes posing the characters in conversation with others a problem.

Off to the far right in that picture you see Toa Lhikan, last survivor of an older Toa team. His build is identical to the Toa Metru, and it's really his steed that is the interesting part of that set. The Kikanalo is a herd beast that roams the stone realm of Metru Nui, and represents one of the first non-Toa creatures to be given the same articulated treatment as the Toa themselves. This is the wave that introduces the Titan sets, which is where we'll pick things up next time.