Sign me up for an Immersive Cocoon

Keir Dullea stars in this 2001-inspired advertisement for the Immersive Cocoon digital environment:







The video was directed by Oliver Zeller of adNAU, and you can see some making of photos here. And speaking of adNAU, here's a very cool spec advertisement for Nike:



*Buy 2001 posters at eBay.

More Stanley Kubrick-inspired art

A few more gems from that enormous collection of art inspired by the movies of Stanley Kubrick I mentioned yesterday:


The Shining by Dan Ibarra.



2001 by Gabriele Brombin.



Gorillaz meets A Clockwork Orange by Irina Koshina.



2001 by Valerio Vega.



2001 by Dušan Vojnov.

*Buy Gorillaz toys at eBay.

Art inspired by the movies of Stanley Kubrick

A few highlights from an enormous collection of art inspired by the movies of Stanley Kubrick:


The Shining by Max Brown.



Eyes Wide Shut by Melissa Mills.



Spartacus by Viktor Hertz.



Photographs by Justin Kent from a Shining-themed party at Timberline Lodge.




The Shining by Erica Gibson.



2001 by Brecht Vandenbroucke.



The Shining by Ben Whitesell.



2001 by Carlos Ramos.




China / Art&Maña Sitges Festival Internacional de Cinema Fantàstic de Catalunya.



The Shining by Grégoire Guillemin.



The Shining by Edward Brown.



Eyes Wide Shut by Aurélie Scour.



2001 by James White.



2001 by Carlos Ramos.

*Buy 2001 posters at eBay.

Link roundup

1. Funny post by Drew Curtis about an imminent Fark redesign.

2. Les Dames features drawings of famous women (NSFW). Most recently, Brigitte Bardot. Via.

3. Cartoony 2001 illustrations.

*Buy 2001 posters at eBay.

The Muppets/2001 mashup

Animal and Kermit in 2001 by Jim Unwin.

*Buy Muppets toys at eBay.

Link roundup

1. Fascinating look at the life of prowrestler Ravishing Rick Rude.

2. From a lengthy review of the game Darksiders, this meditation on the original Legend of Zelda game:

Zelda is not a game in the spirit of Adventure, even though it contains bats, swords, keys, castles, and, eventually, chickens. Its main deviation from Adventure is that the vast majority of the player participation part is in trying to discover what they are supposed to be doing, and where things are. Zelda, if anything, and possibly somewhat ironically, is the console’s best attempt at the Adventure genre, as beaten to death by Roberta Williams et al. You start on a screen, there is a hole. You navigate into the hole. You are given a thing. The thing is used to stab. Never are you given the kind of information you might logically need to progress, such as ‘someone sells a candle, it shoots the fire, senor leenk, perhaps some booshes will burn?’ No, that never happens. What you have, instead, is a world built with layer after layer of proudly standing contradictions. If a set of statues appear to be inert, then, eventually, on some screen, one of them will start to move if you stand near it. Presumably, when it moves, it reveals stairs, though, I can’t recall if every statue that came alive was guarding stairs or if it was just a couple of them, and therefore, the other stood as a kind of weak and ambiguous hint that, if you want a statue to move, it might. If, from that, you learn that, sometimes, stairs may be hiding under something that is not stairs, then you are smarter than me. The first time you had access to a bomb it seemed like an awkard weapon. How would you know that the 4th tile from the left on some clifface could be a door?

We now make assumptions about bombs and walls, and, granted, in those days, there was a lexicon of bizarre icons that we documented as we explored the NES. Balloons could be worth points, they could also be fragile. If you had a balloon, then you needed to protect it. If the enemy had a balloon, it was a weak point. If a balloon was unattended, you need to capture it. The entry for balloon in the encyclopedia of gaming was one of the easier, less obtuse examples, and it was still somewhat of a mystery. The entry for bomb took up page after page, and ranged from a specific key that opened a very particular place, to a dangerous thing not to be touched, to a tool that could backfire on you, to any number of other uses. In wrecking crew, bombs not only didn’t break anything, they interfered with your attempts to break things. Bombs could even be worth points and have no function at all. A bomb, really, could be anything. It’s not that the Zeldas bomb is internally inconsistent, just that, now, we know what bombs are for. They’re for feeding to triceratops, and widening cracks. A bomb, now, is defined to within an inch of its life in the mythology of the zelda context, which, as mentioned before, does not really exist.

3. Cool animated gif of the monolith from 2001.

*Buy 2001 posters at Amazon.