Perhaps from the same reference as Bad Walkcycle #21’s rigid robot, (you do use reference, don’t you?), this incredibly controlled upper body might allow the character to fire accurately whilst running, but will unfortunately look shit. Perhaps the strings suspending him above the ground (unforgivable now in this next-gen age of real-time lighting and shadows) explain why he takes absolutely no weight with each stride.

Nearly a month has passed with no updates as the alsoran has been otherwise engaged. So before July is over, he’d like to upload a 500 word test essay written a few months previous – a failed attempt to gain employment as a freelance journalist purely to avoid the que at next years E3 via the coveted press-pass. This account of the alsoran’s similarly doomed efforts to gain employment at Nintendo via a walk-in was rightfully ignored by the professionals, but the alsoran remains unphased.

Q. What is Japan’s most important contribution to gaming?

Minami-ward, Kyoto, Autumn of 2003. Standing outside the city’s favourite son, Nintendo, the monastic headquarters cast a shadow on the alsoran preparing for his grand entrance. The brilliant white, cube-like building took on an imposing nature even on that sun-baked day, a nervous fear beginning to grow as he envisioned the genius inside that gave birth to timeless classics such as Mario, Zelda, Donkey Kong and Metroid.

In a bid to gain composure, he ducked into the nearby noodle-bar for a drink but was chased out by an yelling, anti-western owner. If he couldn’t even order noodles here, how could he possibly impress the Big N? Quickly, the initial shock quickly gave way to a new determination. Emboldened, he marched up to the entranceway guardhouse armed with the two most important phrases he’d learned before embarking on this pilgrimage. “Kyu-shoku”, ”Anime-ta” and a flash of his showreel CD were enough to gain entrance for this job-seeking animator.

Beyond the dual white doors of the entrance lay a palatial foyer. Polished white marble flooring spread out before him, lined with equally pristine marble pillars that led up to a desk seating two identically ivory-clad receptionists. His determined footsteps echoed in the vast space as he approached, but upon asking was dismayed to find that, contrary to the advice given by his Tokyo inn-keeper that all major Japanese businesses employ bilingual receptionists, Nintendo’s welcoming party’s command of English only extended to “Do you have an appointment?”

His negative answer preceded an incomprehensible phone call, then the alsoran was directed to a collection of leather sofas off to one side of the foyer – a holding pen for young hopefuls, invited or otherwise. The area was shared with one such hopeful, clean-shaven and donning a black suit and tie that complemented his black artwork folio. He glared disapprovingly at the arrogant westerner, “How dare he assume he could just waltz in here with his ten-day beard and tourist attire and be granted an audience!” Yet despite the scorn, the alsoran waited patiently, and granted an audience he was.

The broken English of the junior HR representative led the alsoran down the hall to a windowless grey room. After selling his showreel, his unrehearsed questions quickly gave way to the realisation that, as with the noodle-bar, he was equally unprepared to penetrate the grandmaster Nintendo. Again, however, this realisation manifested itself in an unexpected way. The sheer futility of impressing these Ancients of the Artform proved too much to contain, and the alsoran surrendered to laughter with the Nintendo Rep amicably following suit. Upon returning to the foyer the alsoran decided to play up the “Foolish Westerner” role by committing one last social faux-pas. Foregoing the customary bow, he violently shook the still-laughing HR guy’s hand, in turn causing the Siamese receptionists to giggle with delight, sealing the fate of any future contact.

So what is Japan’s greatest contribution to gaming? Setting the bar so high as to challenge us more than we possibly could in the West alone.

This hasty insect suffers from (as least) three common problems displayed among amateur animators – backwards arms, stuttered feet and momentumless root syndromes. Covering the lower half of this action shows the upper body, (particularly the arms), to be displaying reverse momentum, while the feet do not slide in a linear fashion when connected to the ground. Finally, the root displays only vertical motion, which will cause the character to appear to smoothlly plane across the environment when moving. Not amusing, but educational.

The flicking heels and static upper body of this battle droid betray the fact that this is not in fact an Industrial Light & Magic original, but instead the work of an imposter – perhaps hoping to impress ILM with his mastery of incredibly stiff robot animation.

What on earth is this? Quite possibly the most hideous character ever concieved, this dodo/walrus’s head lolls around with the kind of genetic inadeqacy that only leads to extinction. Were it not for the blinking eyes, this might actually be a triumph of capturing the humiliating walk of one unfortunate employed as a football mascot, with the feet clearly taking the weight where the human occupant’s heels would land.

If you’re going to take shortcuts with your modelling process by turning the lower body only into that of a dwarf, try to ensure the feet don’t move like two flacid penises in socks.