Faith Connors

(First Appearance: Mirror's Edge)
PARKOUR!!!
For some time, Parkour was the future, it was how we were ALL going to be travelling around the cities we live in. Well, maybe not quite, but it damn sure seemed like you couldn't watch a movie, advert, or music video between '08 and '10 without feeling like a pretty unfit or, God forbid, UN-HIP person.

Parkour has appeared in videogaming in various iterations, and is currently the universal symbol for homebrew 360 drivel (apparently)

Faith Connors is Parkour's most recognisable connection to the videogame world, the beautiful Eurasian girl is the heroine of Dice's marmite game Mirror's Edge.
Faith is a Runner, an underground network of spritely hip young thangs who work as a messenger service for those who wish to communicate their business away from the prying eyes of the cities oppressive government. Runners utilise the rooftops, fire escapes, stairwells and construction sites of the city to move their correspondence quickly, efficiently, but hardly safely.

Faith's world is turned upside down when her sister Kate, a by-the-book cop, is framed for the murder of a promising politician. With the city at her finely tuned heels, Faith has to perform the run of her life, to clear her sisters name and expose some high level political corruption.
Keeping herself alive would be a great bonus too, I guess.

Regardless of the public perception of Mirror's Edge, which is very polarizing, I really like it. This is thanks in no small part to Connors, who is one of my favourite female protagonists in videogames. Faith seems incredibly real despite the game's Utopian, almost bizarre visual design. Faith doesn't have any super-powers or even a cool smart-mouth, she's just an incredibly fit and quick-witted girl who knows how to handle herself in any given situation.
Quick like a cat, graceful and determined, Faith speeds her way across the city environment, able to take care of business in both hand to hand combat and death-defying acrobatics. Unarmed, Faith can (and, in my opinion, should) be played without once resorting to a gunfight. Faith isn't a killer, and repeatedly pulling the trigger on a rifle feels like a complete betrayal of the character design. Ironically, Faith was originally to carry a handgun at all times, but this was removed during development. A brave decision that sadly, cost Dice many sales in a world of bloodthirsty modern gamers, who live to shoot first and ask questions later. Well, more accurately, shoot first, then sH00t suM m0ar.

Faith lives her life as a lonely individual, an isolated blip running on the sparse rooftops of the over-populated city, but is aware of where her loyalties lie and repeatedly risks her life at a moments notice for the protection of the few friends she has.
Though she is rewarded with betrayal not once, but TWICE over the course of the story, her steely determination, fast feet and survival instincts win through, leading to an ending that's just and fair for (almost) all involved.

Faith Connors is all the best parts of a perfect protagonist. Loyal, determined, brave, capable, but with that all important touch of vulnerability that makes her always seem that she's fighting an uphill battle against impossible odds, which, of course, makes victory all that much sweeter. I call that "Rocky psychology"

The supposed sequel to Mirror's Edge appears to be EA's favourite hostage game to tease its (admittedly small) fanbase with.
Whether Faith takes to the rooftops again remains to be seen but, for one game at least, we got a new female protagonist who was real enough to be human, but too perfect to ever exist in reality.

"Who's Next?.."

-"WHO'S NEXT?"-
(Slogan, WCW, 1998)
Around 1997, it seemed World Championship Wrestling could do no wrong. The Atlanta-based promotion was destroying rival WWF in the television ratings. But despite the steamroller success they were having, WCW needed a new breakout star, someone to place amongst the frankly geriatric has-beens that were making up their heavyweight main event scene.
They got their star, the star of David in fact.

Bill Goldberg, an Oklahoma native of Jewish ancestry was a pro-football player who had suffered a nasty injury whilst in the NFL. Whilst rehabbing said injury, Goldberg started attending WCW's "Power Plant" the training grounds for WCW wrestlers and the site of Louis Theroux's painfully unnecessary hazing. Goldbergs incredible physical strength and Spartan-esque body fast-tracked him through his training and he was on TV screens in no time.

The wacky soap-opera of pro-wrestling has a tendency to overthink its "angles", or storylines. Sometimes hella money can be made with the most straightforward and simplest of concepts. In the past, characters such as The Ultimate Warrior had been marketed as unstoppable forces, plain and simple. This approach had brought The Warrior much glory in the late 80s, regardless of his sloppy in-ring ability.
Although this was a very different pro-wrestling era, WCW decided to take a gamble on a similar concept, a gamble that would pay dividends.

Goldberg made his TV debut in 1997 against mid-carder Hugh Morrus. Goldberg didn't even get an entrance, or any music. but within scant minutes, he laid waste to Morrus and held a single finger to the camera "That's one." The audience were stunned, this nobody had just obliterated a named star, with apparently very little effort. Goldberg then walked to the back, refusing to speak to interviewer Gene Okerlund who tried desperately to get a few words with the mysterious newcomer.

With that, he exploded onto the scene. Goldberg was quickly established as an unstoppable, undefeatable DEATH WAGON as he chewed up WCWs roster, young stars and seasoned veterans alike. On commentary, the announcers would big up Goldbergs undefeated streak. Audience members would often bring signs simply stating the win/loss figure, which would over time build to an alleged 173-0 (emphasis on alleged)
And whilst all this went on, Goldberg barely said two words. Given an iconic entrance in which he would walk from his locker room to the ring, through pyro and explosions, all to a epic piece of battle music, Goldberg was simply a MONSTER. After destroying the opposition in double quick time, polishing off his opponents his awesomely satisfying Jackhammer finisher, Goldberg would be heading back up the ramp with the whole crowd, still on their feet from his entrance, roared his name.

Across '97-'98, this routine continued, eventually culminating in Goldberg flattening wrestling legend Hollywood Hogan in a sold out Georgia Dome show to capture the WCW title.
But the magic couldn't, and didn't, last forever. Through WCWs terrible final few years, they blew off most of Goldbergs steam and irreparably damaged his character. Announcers started lying about his win/loss record and Goldberg's unprecedented winstreak was finally ended at the hands of the God-awful Kevin Nash.

When WCW closed, Goldberg eventually turned up in the WWE. Goldberg was still popular and bankable, but the monster was no longer an unstoppable behemoth and he became just another wrestler in the eyes of the majority of fans. No mystique? Big mistake.
After a short year in the WWE, sensibly, Goldberg retired with full health to enjoy his fast made fortunes. Amongst other things, Goldbergs post-wrasslin' career has seen him star in a movie where, dressed as Santa Claus, he drowns Fran Drescher in eggnog after setting her head on fire. Yes.


Goldbergs short, but legendary, time at the top was accomplished in a few short years and is an example of how you really don't have to over-scrutinise these things. Sometimes, if someone has the look, the magnetism, and can get the audience in the palm of their hand with a minimum of effort, then that ALONE can be enough to make magic.
Magic and money. LOTS of money.