TrueLine Publishing sells stories for advertisements. Here’s a link to the one story I wrote for them:
Leatherface signs books, serves chili at Coast City Comicon
By Timothy Gillis
Gunnar Hansen, the actor who played Leatherface in “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre,” will be appearing at this year’s Coast City Comicon, to sign autographs and discuss his new book. The comic book convention is at the DoubleTree in South Portland on Nov. 9 and 10. He will also host a chili cook-off and enter a concoction of his own recipe.
Fans of this spooky genre know Hansen’s alter ego, the intimidating Leatherface from the most famous horror film in history. Hansen also appeared in “Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers” with fellow Coast City Comicon guest Linnea Quigley. Following a screening of their film, fans can participate in a Q&A session with Hansen and Quigley.
As part of Hansen’s appearance, he’ll be posing for photos with fans all weekend, and promoting his new book, which gives a compelling retelling of the making of the film and the reception it received in 1974.
“Chain Saw Confidential” is confidently written and engaging. It opens with an overt allusion to “Moby-Dick” by Herman Melville, whose own hero was also disconsolate and looking for a sea change.
“Call me Leatherface. Some years ago – never mind how long precisely – having little or no money in my purse and nothing particular to interest me otherwise, I thought I would do a little acting and see how movies were made. Even once in a while, when the world gets to be too much and I start to feel a bit spleeny, I feel the need to lift my spirits by killing someone,” the book begins. It goes on to debunk many of the myths surrounding the movie – that it was based on a true story, that the stars made millions, and that someone died during filming.
Hansen, for all the notoriety, did not make much money for his part at the chain saw-wielding maniac who carves up a van full of teenagers and devours them with his crazed family.
“Back then, $10,000 or $15,000 would have meant the world to me,” Hansen said from his home on the coast of Maine last week. The movie’s backers were connected to the Colombo crime family in New York, and even a badass like Leatherface wasn’t going to tangle with them over a contract dispute.
The making of the film was horrific enough. Filmed in the Texan heat that often reached higher than 100 degrees, “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre” was directed by Toby Hooper, who used method acting throughout the filming. He worked overtime to keep the actors in character and, especially, kept those who played victims away from the Chain Saw family, and Leatherface, in particular. Hansen spent many hours alone on the set between shots.
“My feeling was ‘he doesn’t trust his actors if he thinks they need to be genuinely frightened. I felt that was not a very insightful way to approach actors,” said Hansen. He conceded that Alfred Hitchcock had resorted to such measures when filming “The Birds,”
but he thought Hooper went too far in an unnecessary direction.
“When I interviewed for the role, Toby asked me if I was violent, if I was crazy. That concerned me. Does he think I need to be violent or crazy to act this part?” said Hansen, whose family moved from Iceland to Searsport when he was five years old. He subscribed to Looney Tunes comic books as an early way to learn English.
When approached for the film role, Hansen was a college student in Texas, delving into the poetry of T.S. Eliot.
“I tried to write short stories as a kid. In college, I was really interested in poetry, and was poetry editor on a magazine in Austin,” he said. He has published a chapbook of poems called “Bear Dancing on the Hill.” and has forayed into film, working on several documentaries.
“I started out writing them, and then directed and produced them as well,” Hansen said. “Of all of those functions, it was the writing I enjoyed the most.”
For the comic book convention, Hansen gets to get back into his Leatherface character. In addition to posing for pics and signing his new book, Hansen will also host a chili cook-off.
Jarrett Melendez, of Coast City Comics, said, “We’re tired of the conventions that just plop movie stars behind a table and have them sign stuff. We like being able to provide a more intimate experience for fans. They won’t just get herded through a line and shoved away before they can manage a quick ‘Hello.’ They can actually take a minute and talk with idols like Gunnar. Heck, they can even taste food that he made! You don’t get that at national shows like New York Comic Con or San Diego Comic Con.”
“I’ll bring some of my own chili down,” Hansen said. “I’m hoping we can set it up as a blind testing. I’d like to find out if people like my chili. If they don’t, I can always say, ‘Well, they’re not from Texas, so they don’t know chili.’ There aren’t any beans in Texas chili.”
When asked about the secret ingredient in his chili, Hansen said, “The only beans in my chili are human bein’s.”
By Timothy Gillis
AIRE Theater is bringing back Bloomsday for Beginners, its celebration of June 16, the day that the action takes place in James Joyce’s much revered but perhaps lesser read master work, “Ulysses.” In one hour, the troupe will take you through the perambulations of Leopold Bloom, the main character and Irish Odysseus who wanders the Dublin streets and pubs and, at for one point, a brothel. It is there that he meets up with Stephen Daedalus, the artist Joyce paints a portrait of in his earlier, more accessible work. Bloom is chaste in the scene, and spends his time trying to sober up Stephen and keep him from the missteps of youth, as if her were his own son, Rudy, who dies as a child. Meanwhile, back at his house, his wife, Molly Bloom, has been the opposite of her “Ulysses” counterpart, Penelope, who kept her suitors at bay, weaving and unweaving.
This marvelous, myriad cast of characters is brought to life through dramatic readings, in full brogue.
The rollicking performance piece was written by AIRE Artistic Director Tony Reilly, using scenes, songs, and lots of humor to explain the story line.
“I had read Ulysses and several other Joyce books, but I wasn’t a fanatic, as I soon learned a lot of people are,” Reilly said this week. “Since that initial production, AIRE and the MIHC have done many Bloomsday celebrations, including readings of the book by local Portland celebrities, pub crawls and readings at local landmarks, such as Monument Square, the Portland Public Library, and local book stores.
The MIHC plans to keep the tribute going with an exhibit of their collection of Joyce’s books, memorabilia, and a showing of the film “The Dead,” John Huston’s final film starring his daughter Anjelica Huston. Many cities in the US such as New York, Buffalo, and San Francisco have their own unique ways of celebrating, and with a blooming literary scene, Portland is throwing in its dented hat.
Last year, the MIHC held a program at their library, buoyed up with help from a Maine Humanities Council grant, featuring a reading of Joyce and other notable Irish authors.
“We’ve added an amazing amount of eclectic gatherings here in the last year,” said Vinny O’Malley, executive director. “And made some movements to encourage non-Irish folks. We want to be active, and have people come here to a real community center.”
Their slogan is “All are welcome,” and they have been working towards expanding their reach. “We’re an Irish center, but we want to make a space for all immigrant groups appearing here in greater Portland,” he said. “Some people can be intimidated by this place. They still think it’s a church. We have had wedding and funerals here; it’s not like some of that is not still going on here. But we’re so much more than that now.”
Last year, the MIHC hosted the 1st annual Welcome the Stranger, a local organization that helps new immigrants with issues surrounding their refugee status and seeking of asylum.
While broadening their scope, the center is still the main repository in town for all things Irish. Situated and steeped in the old neighbor of Tyng and Tate and Danforth Streets, and anchored at its opposite end with the statue of John Ford, the center brags of being the school of the acclaimed Hollywood director who got his education on these streets and at Portland High School when he was still “Bull” Feeney.
The center offers DNA testing and genealogical studies, and since 1994 when the old St. Dominic’s was closed by the Portland diocese and the MIHC was born, Dubliners have been feeling at home there.
“My wife Susan and I came up here to Portland to live in 2003. We had a previous relationship with the MIHC (Maine Irish Heritage Center) and our goal was to establish an Irish theater company, which we did. AIRE (American Irish Repertory Ensemble. In 2004 members of the MIHC wanted to celebrate the 100th anniversary of “Bloomsday” — June 16th, 1904, the day the events in the book James Joyce novel Ulysses are set. Everyone had good ideas but they were having a hard to implementing them. I very foolishly stepped up and said that I would put together a theater piece for the occasion. I sat down and reduced – probably one of the most difficult and important books in the English language – in to a one-hour piece for anyone who has read the book or anyone who never has and doesn’t intend to. It’s silly, fun and fast. And it actually covers the whole book in one hour.
Tony and his wife, Susan, were in a tragic car accident that claimed Susan’s life. Tony’s return to the stage they once shared has been an inspiration to center members, theater fans, and actors everywhere. “We love Tony, and we love that he’s back here,” O’Malley said. His return, though incredibly difficult, has inspired Tony, as well.
“I have to say that Susan was the prime mover and shaker on the Portland Bloomsday activities. Every year, she and a handful of local devotees would work very hard, to make it a fun and memorable event. When I was still in the hospital after the accident that took my wife, I got a call from members of the AIRE board that gingerly said ‘would you maybe consider doing Ulysses for Beginners this year? At the time I immediately said ‘yes,’ even though I don’t even think I was able to walk yet. After the initial yes, I started thinking that I was nuts to do it. But the thought of honoring Susan and her memory was too strong, and it was the best thing I could have done,” Reilly said. “The response that night (June 16, 2015) at the MIHC was overwhelming. ‘Ulysses’ is a funny book that attracts a very strong following. And it’s a very strong part of Irish culture, and that’s what AIRE and MIHC are all about: celebrating and spreading Irish joy.”
Bloomsday for Beginners
Friday, June 16, at 7 p.m.
The Maine Irish Heritage Center,
at the corner of State and Gray Streets in Portland
Festive and period attire encouraged. Cash bar.
By Timothy Gillis
This interview with Brown Lethem appeared previously. The painter will speak at the Maine Jewish Museum in Portland, Maine, on Sunday, June 11.
“I learned to think by watching my father paint,” says Jonathan Lethem, the acclaimed author, in an essay on his dad, Richard Brown Lethem, the 81-year-old avant-garde artist. Father and son have long been inspiring each other.
After his reading at SPACE Gallery a few weeks ago, Lethem looked to the audience for questions, and saw his dad with his hand raised. Brown, sitting next to Andy Verzosa of Aucocisco Galleries, asked his son about his recent time living in Berlin and what European reactions were to his latest book, “Dissident Gardens,” which has just been translated into Spanish. While the author has written much about his dad’s influence on him, the painter says no one asks him how his son has also informed his art.
“It’s worked both ways,” Brown said last week. “His work has influenced me. His interest in science fiction, which I wasn’t into when I was younger, and (Jorge Luis) Borges, and some of the writers I hadn’t read – he turned me on to. They’ve been a big influence.”
The two areas the father and son most overlap is the tendency to never repeat by continually reinventing themselves in their art, and the use of fantasy and imaginary relationships. Brown has always had an interest in the subconscious and the fantasy life and how it influences art, working out of imaginary sources, “and I think that’s been prevalent in his work also,” he said. He’s read all of his son’s books, usually cruising through an advanced copy.
“This last one is so dense I have to go back and read it again,” he said. “His writing has really made me alerted to the environmental crisis. He was on top of that long before it became a meaningful aspect of my thinking.”
Brown works at his Berwick home, in the big barn studio during much of the summer and the stable, a smaller studio that he can heat and work in through the winter. His nickname, Brown, comes from his grandfather’s first name.
“I adopted it a few years back as my real name,” he said. “It seemed earthy and appropriate for a painter.”
During our visit, his cat, Chomsky, made friendly, but Sophie and Whippoorwill, another two, stayed out of sight. Brown was a carpenter for years in Brooklyn, and those skills came in handy when he moved to Maine. The Berwick house is a typical New England cape built in 1846. The barn burned down in 1900 and was rebuilt the following year. When Brown moved in, there was a lot of renovation work to be done on the barn and house, but he didn’t mind the labor. He still spends time in his woodworking shop, which is part of the stable studio.
“Richard Brown Lethem: Figure ↔ Abstraction” is an exhibit at the Ogunquit Museum of American Art that runs though the end of August. The show features many of the paintings he created while living in Maine. A six-foot tall wooden sculpture was done in 1991 while he was artist-in-residence at the University of Southern Maine.
“I’ve always done three-dimensional work,” he said. “The carpentry has influenced my artistic work, assemblages where I use woodworking as a basic form for building.”
Lethem, at 81 years old, still remains flexible with the artistic process.
“I work whenever I feel good, and inspired,” he said. “I try to do something around my studio every day. Sometimes it’s just paperwork, or thinking about the art work, and sometimes it’s a laying on the hands.”
Brown Lethem grew up in the Midwest, in the triangulation of Nebraska, Missouri, and Iowa, and spent his summers in “the Divide,” the high prairie land of Willa Cather.
“It’s an interesting part of the county with the character of flat prairie geology that extends into northern Kansas, beautiful buffalo grass,” he said. “It was a little desolate, scary growing up with fire ants and rattle snakes and hand-to-mouth farming, hardscrabble. Many farmers went into debt. I always retained those feelings that Cather talked about, the innocence of sensing death in the landscape.”
He spent most of his first 11 years in a small town in Missouri, half a block from his best friend’s farm.
“Farm animals were a big part of growing up,” he said, then related his early days to his more recent ones. “I come up here, and I’ve gotten back into the country, where the relationship between animals and people are a big part of the subject matter. I have a lot of paintings of horses and riders.”
Lethem’s parents rode horses to school. His dad, Walter Roy Lethem, was a traveling salesman who did well enough to keep six kids through the Depression. His mother, Faye Marie Gifford, also grew up in a rural situation and never lost that love of close proximity to riding horses. Young Richard always had a great ambition to be a painter and got his first set of oil paints from his older sister when he was nine.
“It’s pretty much what I have focused on for 60 years as an adult. I wound up being a carpenter and a teacher by default,” he said.
Lethem brought up his own children – Jonathan, Blake (a graffiti and graphic artist), and Mara Faye (a writer) – in New York in a free-sharing artistic existence.
“We lived in an old brownstone in the Boerum Hill section of Brooklyn. We had a big house. It became a commune with always three or four or more housemates living with us. The kids had a wide-ranging diverse environment, people-wise. There were a couple of guys from Africa, a guy from Okinawa, a couple from Germany – many involved in the arts in one form or another. It was pretty stimulating, a little bit chaotic. The neighborhood was rough, a lot of threatening stuff on a huge street for a kid.”
Brown taught at the Kansas City Art Institute and at Columbia University (his alma mater), as well as the University of Kentucky and the University of Pennsylvania.
In 1994, he became an assistant professor at USM, where he taught for seven years before becoming an adjunct professor, still instructing a couple classes until three years ago.
“I loved teaching at USM. The students were wonderful,” he said. “They came mostly from working backgrounds and were serious about their work. They were cooperative and really worked together. They also had an independent streak that Mainers have growing up in close contact with nature and working situations. They were great. Other than the Kansas City Art Institute, working with USM painting majors was my very best experience.”
The next wave of Maine artists can check out the works of one of the most inspired, at Richard Brown Lethem’s show in Ogunquit.
By Timothy Gillis
There are so many cultural things to do around town that one is never at a loss for an evening of dance, music, poetry, storytelling, or art. But even in these artistic environs, it’s unusual to find them all combined in one show.
“El Lobo y La Paloma” (The Wolf and The Dove) is a flamenco dance performance choreographed by Lindsey Bourassa that will be held Saturday, June 3, in South Portland.
“This work was inspired by the loss of my own father but also includes the universal experience of loss — that of losing a loved one, a homeland, a freedom, a right, an identity,” Bourassa said last week from her Forest Avenue studio, which she’s owned since 2014. “It’s about the reconstruction of our relationship with our lost being through the process of grief and healing.”
In addition to the original dance stylings of Bourassa and dancer Megan Keogh, it features Arabic singer Talal Alzefiri, oud player Thomas Kovacevic, and the paintings of Khosro Berahmandi, a Canadian-Iranian artist.
Videographer Ali Mann gives the live performance a visual backdrop, with images of the recurring wolf and dove symbols, and Molly Angie designed simple but symbolically colored dresses that move from dark to light. The Iraqi poet Kifah Abdulla translated original verses, odes to the dead written by Bourassa and her father, into Arabic.
This dazzling line-up of cultures and art forms is supported in part by a project grant from the Maine Arts Commission. It’s the liveliest of creative performances, but it has its origins in a difficult grieving process.
In 2015, Bourassa’s father, David, was dying of pulmonary fibrosis. She had recently returned from a year of studying flamenco dance in Spain, and able so spend some treasured time with him before he passed. She subsequently resolved to create an artistic response, a way out of her grief.
“I’ve always made work based on life experience, so that was the starting point,” she said. “During the time he was dying, I came to believe in the possibility of building a spiritual relationship with those who have passed … the choice of Arabic music to accompany the flamenco dance reflects one branch of flamenco’s ancestry, which guides the unfolding of this story.”
The story Bourassa created involves a wolf and a dove, symbols she kept encountering in the months leading to her father’s passing.
“My father named the wolf his spirit animal,” she explained. “In studying the meaning of animal symbolism in diverse traditions, I came to discover that wolves represent pathfinders … (and) that the dove is a symbol of the maternal spirit messenger who comes to lead her children safely from struggle.”
Later, when going through her father’s things, she discovered poems he had written when he lost his mother. Bourassa decided to write poetic responses to his odes, crafting the eventual narrative.
When it came to choreography, she had several options to choose from. In flamenco, there are many styles of dance—maybe 45 styles, according to Bourassa—each with its own melody or feeling. She selected seven different flamenco and Arabic styles. Kovacevic then created oud music for the seven paired-poems (Bourassa’s father and hers), and Alzefiri “sang in a way that went with the music,” she said.
Providing the sonic textures and backdrop needed for Bourassa’s flamenco show are oud player Tom Kovacevic and Arabic singer Talal Alzefiri.
The project was a return to the past for Alzefiri, who is from Kuwait City and moved to Westbrook in 2010. He grew up with a family of singers—his father, Ebra, and five uncles—and experienced music as part of daily life. When he left Kuwait, that all changed.
“I stopped singing when I came here,” he said. “I was focused on finishing high school and was facing a hard time with my grandmother’s death. I turned away from singing. But when I first saw this flamenco dance and the style they do it, it reminded me a lot of my culture and brought me back to my childhood. That’s when I really started to go back to singing.”
Alzefiri has even more to sing about lately. Last year, he got his United States citizenship, after a five-year process.
“It’s wonderful to finally have a piece of paper in my hand. Now I can travel,” he said. “And that’s the most beautiful thing about this project: Lindsey is a very hard worker—how she was able to bring so many cultures together.”
Cultures combine, and the performance whirls in and out of genres. Behind the unfolding works of music and dance, two poems are simultaneously narrated. These verses are layered atop video imagery of the natural world that is interspersed with digitally projected paintings.
The production represents an end and a beginning for Bourassa. She completed her Certificate of Professionalization in Flamenco Arts in Spain in 2012 at El Centro de Arte y Flamenco de Sevilla. When she returned to Maine, she wanted to start something.
“There was no flamenco in Maine, and I wanted to create something based on these rhythms,”] is because this is the reasoning behind creating Olas – to create something reminiscent of flamenco, but with local artists of diverse genres. Olas lasted from 2008 to 2016. El Lobo y La Paloma is my own work, a Bourassa Dance production, and departs from Olas. It was made in collaboration with several artists, three of which were also members of Olas (Megan Keogh, Tom Kovacevic and Molly Angie). Talal, Khosro, and Kifah are all new collaborators to my work.
The flamenco community in Maine is still small, but it’s growing. I’m trying to teach as true to the art form as I can.”
“El Lobo y La Paloma,” performance by Lindsey Bourassa | Sat 7 pm | June 3 | South Portland High School Auditorium 637 Highland Ave., South Portland
By Timothy Gillis
Soccer moms load their kids in minivans and encourage their dreams of going pro. Dads pace or squirm nervously on sidelines or in the stands. High school coaches steer their athletes towards playing sports in college or beyond, sometimes planting the idea when they are young yet ready to pay travel team fees. But all of these efforts are often in vain, as statistics show that very few traditional few athletes that play in high school continue onto college or pro.
The NCAA estimates that their players go to the next level anywhere from .9 percent (women’s basketball) to 9.1 percent (baseball) of the time.
Robert Wilson, a senior at Waynflete in Portland, is already a pro player, with a sponsor and an upcoming paid trip to Las Vegas to compete in an international competition of skill and endurance. Basketball? Nope. Football? No, he’s never played.
Instead, Wilson’s an eSports player.
Wilson’s among the growing number of millennials who take video games to a serious, professional level. He’s among those sharp enough to monetize what’s often considered a mindless hobby by competing for cash before graduating.
Wilson, or BobbyWasabi as he’s known in gaming circles, recently won a tourney at the HUD Gaming Lounge in Portland, pocketing $125 in three hours. He estimates he spent 500 hours playing Super Smash Bros. to get to that level, from its Nintendo inception in 1999 on N64 to the radically improved newest version on the Nintendo WiiU. Apart from the money, the win gained him notoriety with a sponsor, Super Nova, a company that mainly offers apparel, energy pills, and some gaming news.
“They help get my name out, I help get their name out,’ Wilson said. “I wear their jerseys, help advertise their merch and other teams under the Super Nova umbrella.”
Ben Baker has been gaming around town since 2012, and now runs tournaments in Waterville similar to HUD’s that bring gamers together to compete for moderate prizes. Baker was Super Nova’s first Smash player and helped get Wilson on board. They are doubles partners now, although Baker’s work schedule prevents him from the Vegas trip. He’s going to Florida in June for Community Effort Orlando, another national tournament.
“Back then I would’ve never thought gaming could be a career. It wasn’t until I got more involved in fighting games that it really clicked with me that it’s possible,” Baker said. “Before finding the Maine Fighting Gamers Alliance page on Facebook, I started getting really into Street Fighter IV. I has traveled to Calgary in 2011 for Canada Cup which was a major tournament. It really started to sink in with me that it could be a career.”
The company is flying Wilson to Las Vegas in July for a tourney called EVO 2017, where he will pit his Super Smash Bros. skills against the world’s best gamers. Competitors there will play on a WiiU or Nintendo GameCube decked out in game gear, sugared drinks, and junk food. Big winners will pocket thousands.
“The scene for Smash in the state has grown insanely since I joined, and even at a state level it really can be a worthwhile and profitable hobby,” Baker said. “The better players with the right mindset and passion can easily take it to the next step with all these national events and such popping up.”
Wilson plays as Pikachu (Pokémon) and Villager (Animal Crossing) and is considered the best in the state with these characters. Tournaments usually last anywhere between three to eight hours. Bigger tournaments like Shine and EVO span three days and attract hundreds of gamers from across the globe.
“The most unenjoyable aspect would have to be stress that comes with playing. If I’m ever in an intense match I sometimes start to shake or get nervous that I could get knocked out of the tournament,” he said. “It’s a blessing and a curse though, since I find that I often play better when stakes are high.”
While juggling final exams, he still gets in 30 minutes of practice daily, playing in training mode or online against gamers who challenge him on his Twitch livestream account. He does video game reviews on YouTube, and stays fresh with other games like Mario Kart 8 Deluxe and Persona 5.
“I’m working on a 100 percent completion of The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild and looking forward to the release of Splatoon 2, ARMS, and Super Mario Odyssey,” he says. Wilson is just a high schooler but already making his first—albeit modest—paycheck doing what he loves.
High school sports are an essential part of the teen years, but parents and coaches who feed their children the line that their time invested in year of sports will pay them back with college scholarships or professional jobs are misleading, at best.
According to Forbes magazine, the gaming industry is continuing to grow, and as it does, more and more jobs will be available. “The economic impact of the gaming industry to the US GDP was over $11 billion in 2016 and that number is certain to grow for the foreseeable future,” according to the magazine. Still, while 27 million people play League of Legends each day, just 40 professionals earn salaried positions in the North American League. Today, players can also earn ad dollars when fans livestream their games on websites like Twitch and Azubu TV. But gamers say only a handful of players can earn enough to make a living.
Wilson wants to be one of those handfuls.
“My dad (Grant) told me ever since I could move my hands, I had a Gameboy in them,” Wilson said. “At age two, I was playing Super Mario Land and Alleyway, and since then I’ve been so drawn to video games. At three, I got a GameCube for Christmas and was
in line at age seven to get a Nintendo Wii with dad when it came out.”
Super Smash Bros Brawl was released two years later, and marked the first time he entered a tournament, at 13 years old, the PortCon 2012 tourney for SSB Brawl.
“I got knocked out immediately, but it was one of the first times I was exposed to a community of people who also play this game, other than my brothers (Ike and Trip) or friends from school.”
Next year, Wilson is headed to Emerson College, where he can add a scholastic approach to his gaming habits. Emerson has recently started a program for eSports gamers in the Communications Department. “It’s what partially attracted me there. I was also looking for journalism and communications,” he said. “After seeing what they are doing with the program there solidified my decision to go.”
He considered other schools — Champlain College in Burlington, Vermont, is known for its gaming design program and offers a competitive gaming community.
The takeaway of all this? There’s big money out there for dedicated gamers, or big fans of the industry and its creative mechanisms. But on top of that, there are job opportunities for those looking to host gaming events like these. Production, organization, planning, coverage, commentary are also possible vocations.
“A lot of people go into game development. The gaming industry is worth more than $70 billion a year, and there aren’t huge CEOs to pay that are taking most of it as a lot of those sales are in indie games and small studios,” said Gabe Letourneau, founder of HUD gaming lounge, which opened in Biddeford and made the move north to Portland last year. VR and AR (augmented reality) are also growing fields and will require new creative minds to learn to program and code games and experiences for them and is sure to become a lucrative skillset in the coming years.”
More eSport events would open the door to a new ripple to economies both local and national. eSports has found its home on Twitch.tv, a website dedicated to livestreams of players playing games either by themselves or online with viewers. eSport events are often broadcast on this site, though some major events like League of Legends, Dota 2, and Hearthstone tournaments can sometimes be found on legacy media like ESPN.
The biggest games in eSports now are League of Legends, Dota 2, CS:GO, and Hearthstone. The biggest fighting games in eSports are Super Smash Bros. (1999), Super Smash Bros Melee (2001), Super Smash Bros Brawl (2008), Super Smash Bros. (2014), as well as Street Fighter, Guilty Gear, and Mortal Kombat.
In Maine, gamers can play publicly, and competitively. A group of 20 to 50 people come together at one venue to compete in tourney or just play against each other. Most venues charge between $5 to $10, while some tourneys are free. For the prize level, pay an extra $5 and the top three winners grab some cash.
eGames in Maine history
The eWorld was created, virtually, by Maine Competitive Gaming founders Marc Patenaude, Jordan Lovell, and Jordan Sage, whom Wilson calls “trailblazers for the gaming community in Maine.”
Late last year, the guys host tournaments at Howard Johnson’s in South Portland and the Maine Mall, both in collaboration with PortCon. They host doubles tournaments every other week at Arcadia National Bar, which offers Portland-area patrons arcade, console, pinball, and board games. MCG currently runs Rocket League and CSGO tournaments at HUD Gaming Lounge, and will be running a Super Smash Bros. Event called “MCG Arena” in June.
Some of the best players in Maine can rest easy with the money they win. The average prize pool for a monthly event can yield first placers $200. The tourneys SMCC holds every Thursday do not charge and players cannot. Monthlies are posted Saturday night events with slightly higher stakes, turnout, and prizes.
Wilson is starting Timber Weeklies at Amigo’s on Mondays, and future Timber Monthlies will be held at HoJo’s in SoPo, with one planned for this Saturday, May 13.
“’Timber’” comes from a name of a move that the character “Villager” does,” Wilson explained. “She or he plants a tree, grows it and then cuts it down with an axe.”
Wilson stands to cash in on his passion this summer. The prize pool last year was between $26,000 and $100,000, depending on the games.
“I don’t know what the prize is for EVO 2017,” Wilson said. “It all depends on the turnout of the event, but the numbers have been growing every year.”
He noted that the sport, though, is not evenly represented.
“It’s a very male-dominated profession. This is in part due to a lot of community’s sexism and discrimination towards female players and enthusiasts,” Wilson says. “A lot of this plays into both the anonymity aspect of players online, as well as a long running stereotype that girls aren’t that into ‘real video games.’ That being said, the field is completely open, especially when you consider how sports are separated by men’s leagues and women’s leagues due to biological physicality. With eSports, that factor doesn’t play a part when competing at a high level. Endurance, strong mentality, and overall skill at the game are all that matter.”
My girlfriend doesn’t play video games often, yet has a blast while playing as ‘Kirby,’ an adorable ball of pink puff who was designed to be very accessible to more novice players. The brilliance is that accessibility in Smash Bros. does not equate to hand-holding or a crutch to stand on, and that’s where the true social aspect of Super Smash Bros. shines.”
Local eGaming merchants have seen business boom and stay open all hours to meet client needs.
“We have seen a few players in our tournaments who could go pro — very talented gamers who blow us away whenever we see them compete,” says Letourneau. “Based on our live streams, comments, and likes on our Facebook page, there are clear favorites who have tons of people rooting for them to win, by commenting and interacting with our tournaments even if they aren’t playing.”
And business can be good for the gamers, too.
“Just as players of football, or baseball, or basketball, etc. who are really good become professional players, people who are really good at games follow a similar path,” he says. “Just as the pro traditional sports teams make money from sponsors and spectators, eSports are exactly the same, except the sponsors aren’t for cars or life insurance. It’s for gaming gear, computer equipment, and Doritos.”