Originally published in the March 2020 issue of (614) Magazine
Photo Provided
Cultural critics used to dismiss video games as an isolated obsession. That’s hardly the case anymore, if it ever was. Even back when neighborhood kids used to huddle around an Atari for hours, it was always social, competitive, and often collaborative.
Now with most households capable of streaming data at speeds that would probably melt a dialup modem, online gaming has come of age, and those same critics are now forced to reckon with millions of players engaged in an emerging entertainment medium that scarcely existed a generation ago.
“It’s a completely different landscape today than when we launched Major League Gaming. But even then, we predicted that video games would have their own version of the NFL,” explained Adam Apicella, CEO of Esports Engine, the Columbus-based startup built on nearly two decades of industry expertise. “It’s what we set out to create back then.”
That early insight wasn’t far from foreshadowing. Through a series of expansions and acquisitions, what started as Major League Gaming in 2002, better known now as MLG, has become a leading player in a global phenomenon—with Esports Engine at the edge of an evolution, backed by gaming industry veterans, long-time collaborators, and the former CEO of ESPN and NFL Network.
Launching Esports Engine in Columbus was always an obvious choice, even if not for Ohio University graduate Apicella’s familiarity with the market and the proximity to Ohio State and dozens of additional colleges and universities throughout Central Ohio. Even MLG’s 2014 investment in a dedicated, 14,000 square-foot, live competition arena in an empty warehouse that used to be an indoor bounce house, was no less ironic. Gaming had grown up.
“Back in the late nineties, early 2000s, multiplayer games first started to pop onto the scene. I think the first I remember was James Bond GoldenEye on the Nintendo. You could have four players on one TV,” he explained. “Publishers started to realize these multiplayer components would create longevity for their games. You’d sell a ton of copies, but after they’d beaten the game, they’d put it away and not play as much after that. Multiplayer changed everything.”
A ton of copies is not entirely hyperbole. The same month Esports Engine opened its doors this past October, Activision Blizzard released Call of Duty: Modern Warfare. It was the most successful digital launch in the company’s history, generating $600 million in the first three days. For comparison, that’s nearly twice the worldwide, opening weekend box office for the final installment of the Star Wars saga. Apicella knows the industry and the stakes well. When MLG was acquired by Activision Blizzard in 2015, he was promoted to vice president, and helped design the launch of earlier Call of Duty releases.
“Multiplayer is the bedrock of esports, and publishers saw players would keep playing. Now when a game launches, people still play it years later, spending money within the game through microtransactions,” he revealed. “It’s a completely different line of revenue that didn’t exist when I first started with Major League Gaming.”
Apicella admits that despite concerns about over-hiring in anticipation of brisk business from the moment they launched, they have already doubled the size of their staff in just six months. Created as a one-stop production powerhouse for organizing large-scale exhibitions and competitions, he soon discovered an unexpected demand as a consultancy for those struggling to host their own events, challenges he understood firsthand.
“When we first started out, we had trouble booking venues. We’d have to prepay in full because people thought it was some sort of scam. They didn’t believe this was a real thing,” he recalled. “Now we have cities begging, commissions and convention and visitors bureaus fighting, to bring our business to their markets.”
Despite cities in the US and around the world eager to get in on the ground floor of live, competitive gaming, Columbus was still the right fit for Esports Engine. After considering several sites, Apicella found Smith Brothers Hardware “checked all of the boxes”. Hosting clients from Riot Games and Microsoft to colleagues from Activision Blizzard, the proximity to downtown, the Short North, and the campuses of Ohio State and Columbus State was too perfect to pass up.
“Everyone wants to reach 18 to 30-year-olds and that’s our sweet spot, and we have an epicenter of that demographic right in our backyard. We’ve built out a newsroom style studio, like MTV used to have with Total Request Live, where you can see what we’re producing from the lobby,” he explained. “We can have meetings down here in a premium space, and then go up to Juniper afterward, which is one of the coolest spaces in the city. It was important for us to have an office that was a representation of Columbus when we bring in people who may not be familiar with the city.”
But gaming is more than just college kids blowing off steam or skipping class, and it’s a misperception the industry pushes back as it moves forward; the stereotype of a sedentary, socially awkward kid playing video games in his mom’s basement doesn’t match their broader metrics. Women are among the fastest growing segment of gamers, and the collaborative component of most games forges real friendships that defy typical social stratification.
“Our big, live events are where they meet up, like any sporting event, whether they are players or spectators. Tens of thousands of people, so it’s not a solitary endeavor,” he noted. “Gaming transcends a lot of things. It’s blind to race, gender, socioeconomic status, physical characteristics. It’s inclusive. Anyone can play and compete.”
Despite the enormous economic implications, there’s still a modest, Midwest sense of purpose dating back to the early days of Major League Gaming that resides in the DNA of Esports Engine, and a culture that continues to permeate the entire industry.
“There’s a diversity in this space, men and women playing on the same team as equals. And there’s a lot of crossover,” he noted. “You know what’s awesome? Watching a six-foot-seven NFL player standing behind some skinny kid, going nuts watching him play, cheering him on. It’s a reversal that really doesn’t exist outside our arena.▩
For more about Esports Engine, visit esportsengine.gg
Originally published in the July 2019 issue of (614) Magazine
Photo by Brian Kaiser
When
Aaron Seddon first stepped up to the plate nearly a decade ago for the Ohio
Village Muffins, he was actually stepping back in time. It wasn’t the same game
he’d played in his youth. The rules and uniforms were unfamiliar, and pushing
30 as a walk-on wasn’t out of the ordinary. Even the spelling was different.
This was 1860 vintage “base ball”.
No that’s not a typo—and no, the whole team didn’t forget their gloves either.
“When
we’re talking to spectators about the differences in the game, they’re
immediately concerned that we aren’t wearing gloves. That kind of protective
gear didn’t enter the game until the 1870s,” explained Seddon, who starting
playing vintage baseball well past the age most major league scouts tend to
take notice. “We get a lot of our recruits from people who come to matches, who
are intrigued by what we’re doing. We’re a close-knit group, even off the
field. We’re a team, but we’re also a family.”
Long
before the days of hot dogs and dugouts, what we now know as baseball was
played in fields and empty lots from Cooperstown to Hoboken. Historians still
dispute the exact origin story of the sport, but generally agree that despite
scattered clubs before the Civil War, it was the inevitable intermingling of
Union and Confederate troops that transformed the game into a national pastime.
But
Columbus has its own history, perhaps mixed with a little folklore. Before the
war, there were exactly zero baseball teams in the capital city, but shortly
after its end, there were six. Players learned the sport from fellow soldiers
from New York and New Jersey who brought bats and balls with them to pass the
time between battles. Even the hand signals still used today for balls,
strikes, “safe” and “out” arguably owe credit to the Ohio School for the Deaf
in Clintonville, put into play a decade later to help their hearing-impaired
athletes compete as equals.
Which
brings us back to the matter of the Muffins. When the Ohio History Connection
started their vintage baseball program in 1981, there was no prototype, only a
rulebook. Recruiting most of that first team from their employees, they
couldn’t help having some self-deprecating fun at their future expense. In the
early days of baseball, your best players were referred to as the “first nine”
followed by the “second nine”. Everyone left on the bench were called the
“muffins”. A “muff” was period vernacular for an error, back before they were
counted. The name was so inside baseball, it was perfect.
“The
umpire’s role isn’t really to arbitrate the game. He’s there is settle disputes
between the players they can’t adjudicate themselves,” Seddon noted. “And the
pitcher’s role is to facilitate hitting. In modern baseball, your pitcher is
your best defensive player, to prevent the ball from getting into play. The
game we play is before it became professional. Everyone was an amateur back
then.”
Fans
will also notice a suspicious absence of balls and strikes. Newspapers from the
era report some batters taking 50 or more pitches waiting for just the right
one, because if a hit was caught on the first bounce, it still counted as an
out.
“Probably
the biggest difference between modern baseball and the game we play, is if an
opponent makes a really good play, everyone cheers,” Seddon revealed. “We’re
playing a competitive game, we’re obviously both out there to win the match.
But there’s much more camaraderie between the teams.”
Speaking
of the other team, the Ohio History Connection has more than one vintage
baseball club. Much as the rise of men’s baseball inspired impromptu games
among women well before Vassar College started the first formal women’s program
in 1866, the Diamonds played their first match in 1994. Despite their parallel
history and popularity, many of the early women’s vintage baseball teams have
since consolidated or faded away, making matches more challenging.
Like
the Muffins, the Diamonds also represent the game as it was played in 1860,
which for women of the era was strictly recreational. The rules were the same,
but even playing in back fields among themselves, the ladies often caused quite
a social stir with their attire.
“We
wear period accurate dresses made from patterns of actual garments considered
either a camp dress or a work dress. Someone who first starts out may play in a
long skirt and a white blouse,” explained Jackie Forquer, who has played for
the Diamonds for more than two decades. “We don’t play as many games as the
men, but the time commitment is also less. We play festivals and exhibitions
games. Our players who come from a softball background see this as another way
to share their love of the game.”
Both the Muffins and Diamonds are technically historical “interpreters” who interact with spectators much as players would have in 1860, sometimes to exacting detail. Forquer, who plays first base, is sometimes the first ambassador for vintage baseball folks may meet, either through school programs or at the beginning of a game, with Diamonds matches often preceding the Muffins. Never breaking character, she’ll politely ask the umpire to seek the approval of the audience before women roll up or remove their sleeves before play begins. Showing so much skin used to be scandalous.
Every
organization has a historian, but vintage baseball happens to have an actual
one. Dr. Jim Tootle came to the original version of the game later in life than
most, but has still managed to outlast many of his peers. Having retired as assistant
dean of the Colleges of the Arts and Sciences at Ohio State, his passion for
preservation is as infectious as his laugh.
“I’ve gotten to play in four major league parks from coast to
coast. I thought my playing days were winding down when I stumbled upon this, and
I’ve probably played 600 to 700 vintage games,” Tootle recalled. “It’s been a
wonderful experience to represent the Ohio History Connection on our home field
at The Ohio Village, but also to travel the state and the country.”
When folks say someone “wrote the book” on a significant or
obscure subject, it’s typically a metaphor. Tootle actually has written the
book on vintage baseball—two in fact, not counting a third still used by
prospective vintage baseball teams across the country trying to get their
start.
“It’s like Civil War reenacting in a way because we give great attention to accuracy—interpreting the rules, our uniforms, and our equipment. And yet, the moment the first pitch is thrown, it’s not a reenactment anymore. It’s a real game, and we don’t know who is going to win,” Tootle chidded. “I have to laugh watching ESPN anytime there’s a barehanded catch. They go nuts and show it three or four times. I feel like saying, ‘Come out to a vintage baseball game, every catch is a barehanded catch. Gloves weren’t even invented yet.’” ▩
For a complete schedule of games, including the 2019 Ohio Cup Vintage Base Ball Festival featuring 30 teams from across the country, visit ohiohistory.org
Originally published in the April 2019 issue of (614) Magazine
Julia Richey has a persuasive presence, even without a sword.
Since immigrating to the U.S. two decades ago, she’s managed to parlay her passion for fencing into an ever-widening community of athletes and enthusiasts well beyond Central Ohio. A member of the Russian National Team since her teens, Richey’s credibility may only be matched by her charm. Point of fact, her continued requests for more stage time at the Arnold Fitness Expo ultimately led to the construction of her own stage. (It probably didn’t hurt that Schwarzenegger himself is a huge fan of both fencing and its unapologetic ambassador.)
“My goal is to make fencing more popular in Columbus than football,” she quipped.
Then again, maybe she wasn’t kidding. Despite the long odds of success for anyone starting a small business from scratch, Royal Arts Fencing Academy has adapted and expanded to encompass a rich range of edged weapons and combat styles — most notably HEMA, the less cumbersome acronym for Historical European Martial Arts.
“The HEMA groups are like we were 20 years ago, practicing in yoga rooms and parks. Fencing clubs are a natural fit because we have our own space,” revealed Tim Mills, fencing coach and Richey’s business and creative counterpart.
From Lord of the Rings to Game of Thrones, medieval fantasy meets real metal with HEMA. Despite the persistent stigma of ‘nerds with swords’, the mix of fight choreography and full-contact combat surely burns more calories than another boring trip to the gym.
“Someone who starts here with a longsword may also decide to pick up a rapier. There’s a lot of crossover and common skills — distance, timing, angle, and leverage,” explained Frank Zamary, head HEMA instructor. “If you have those basic components, you can fight with any sword.”
Not that there’s a shortage of “nerdoms”, Zamary coyly confessed. And Mills was quick to note the social overlap between evenings spent playing Dungeons & Dragons and wielding actual weapons was quite high at Royal Arts.
“It’s a very nerdy place,” Richey confirmed. “This is the only time you’ll hear parents tell their kids to put down that book and go workout.”
Competitive and recreational fencing haven’t been immune to the increasing fears of parents when it comes to sports, as seen by dramatic declines in youth football in particular. Add to that the common perception of swordplay, and you’d think fencing would be an even tougher sell.
Fortunately, Richey and Mills are adept at emphasizing the unique benefits of fencing while allaying such concerns. Much like other martial arts, the precision and discipline required often help students find the focus and attention to detail necessary for academic success as well.
“That’s the hardest part, overcoming the idea that fencing is more dangerous than other sports when it’s actually safer than most,” Mills noted. “We do a lot of public exhibitions, for parents as much as the kids. If I can put a sword in your hand, you’ll get hooked.”
But summer camps and workshops aren’t just for kids. The schedule offers adult classes ranging from lightsabers to bartitsu — a combination of kickboxing, cane fighting, and improvised combat popularized by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle that’s seen a recent revival. Last June, Benedict Cumberbatch famously fought off four muggers single-handedly with skills he acquired during his stint as the BBC’s Sherlock Holmes.
“Someone gave me a Groupon as a gift for the lightsaber class, and I just kept coming,” admitted Shaun Reed, who now teaches the class. “Tim asked me to help work on choreography for the Arnold a few years ago. I’ve been here ever since.”
There is definitely an action hero allure all around, and the Arnold Fitness Expo is inextricably at the center. Folks around Royal Arts actually measure their tenure by “how many Arnolds” they’ve done, going so far as declaring “Arnold Eve” and “Arnold New Year” unofficial holidays marking the culmination of one event and immediately planning for the next.
“Last year we did rapier. We’ve done lightsaber and longsword; we used to just do sport fencing. This year, we’re doing shashka for the first time,” Mills explained. “There’s no guard, so it’s a lot like a lightsaber in the way that it moves.”
Even for those unfamiliar with the proper name of the Russian military saber, the fluid fighting style is surprisingly reminiscent of a galaxy far, far away. The lack of a guard, the typical separation between the blade and the handle, allows the saber to be spun with astounding speed.
“Shashka has been a traditional saber since the Czars. Cossacks used it as their primary weapon,” explained Richey. Both she and Mills will demonstrate the saber’s signature “flankirovka”, or spinning blades, in full Cossack attire. Workshops are forthcoming. “It’s a complete upper body workout, especially the arms and shoulders.”
The wider array of options at Royal Arts doesn’t diminish fencing as its most popular offering. Much like the Arnold Sports Festival, it’s a recognition of the cultural shift away from simply training for athletes to activities to improve fitness and focus for anyone.
“Olympic fencing has more personality than people think. You can’t be too aggressive or too shy,” Richey revealed. “Fencing is a sport that combines the mind and body. It teaches you not to think too far ahead and to recover quickly. It’s all about finding balance.” ▩
For more details on upcoming classes and workshops, visit royalarts.org
Originally published in the April 2019 issue of (614) Magazine
Photo by Brian Kaiser
When Brooke Sousa stepped on stage at the Arnold Classic’s strongwoman competition for the first time in 2016, she’d already beaten the odds. The mother of two from Westerville had dropped 115 pounds and completed her first marathon before pivoting to weightlifting. But she was still an unranked amateur with no expectation of even placing.
Sousa finished dead last in every event. It wasn’t the first time.
“Running was something I’d hated since elementary school. When we’d run the mile, I was always the last kid around the block,” she confessed. “At 10 years old, I was 180 pounds. I was the fat kid who hoped I might someday be famous for my artwork.”
She pursued that passion at the Columbus College of Art and Design, but it was her two young daughters who inspired her unlikely origin story — to get in shape and forge a new path. However, when Sousa joined a local gym, it was her raw strength, not her size, that stood out most among her fitness class.
“The lowest weight I could get down to was 215 pounds. I weighed more than that as a teenager, trying to fit in with what America expects a woman to look like,” Sousa recalled. “But I could lift a 15-pound barbell, so they called me She-Hulk and the name stuck.”
That was six years ago. Last summer, she lifted a little more.
At a competition in Norway this past July, Sousa lifted 285 pounds simultaneously with each hand in the “Hercules Hold,” carried nearly 600 pounds in the “Timber Yoke,” and dragged 17 rolling tons in the “Truck Pull” to win the heavyweight division and the title “World’s Strongest Woman.”
That first Arnold measured a different kind of strength. Sousa’s sacroiliac joint, or SI, had locked up her lower back days before the competition. She knew it was still better for future qualification to compete than withdraw. But she also feared serious injury. It was ultimately the realization that she needed a new coach, and a new approach.
“I spent four months researching coaches to make sure I would be ready for the Arnold 2017. I was undertrained and underprepared,” she lamented. “That’s how I met Matt Wenning. He competed for 25 years and set three world records without ever being injured.”
Wenning’s westside gym in East Franklinton, Ludus Magnus, was the right fit all around. Bearing the same name as ancient Rome’s most prestigious school for gladiators, it offers a modest mix of old school black iron and custom equipment for serious competitors.
“Matt’s created a couple pieces of equipment, like the belt squat machine, that taught me how to use my hips correctly,” noted Sousa. “When I first started here, I could only lift the frame, which is 45 pounds, without knocking my back out. Now I can load it up to almost 800 pounds.”
Bodybuilding and weightlifting are fundamentally different. The former is judged on appearance, the latter on performance. The two are practically as different mechanically as men and women, similar but not the same. And much like women’s hockey and soccer, there are undeniable advantages to a lower center of gravity, where a hip check or swift kick can beat their best male counterparts.
“I’d rather show judges what I can do instead of standing on stage looking pretty,” she laughed. “I actually gained 30 pounds training for my first marathon, and now I run with a 100-pound weighted vest to make myself heavier, to maintain my strength.”
Much like the men’s divisions, women’s weightlifting tends to come with injuries, often career ending. Since bouncing back from that first defeat and going pro in 2017, Sousa is now the only competitor of the original ten from that inaugural year still competing at the Arnold. Though she didn’t rank first this time, she sees her weightlifting career as its own marathon.
“You can change the events and change the competitors and it’s anyone’s game. Our scores were all so close,” she explained. “I lifted a personal best in every event and I didn’t push myself into an injury. I’m still winning.”
That doesn’t mean Sousa isn’t pushing herself. In additional to training firefighters and other folk whose safety and ours rely on proper conditioning, she also makes time for an unexpected weightlifting clientele — children with autism.
“When I used to workout at a commercial gym, I noticed a therapist struggling to work with a young girl who had autism. So, I offered to help,” Sousa recalled. “That’s what eventually led last year to The M Foundation.”
Named for two of her earliest and youngest clients, Maddy and Maggie, the nimble nonprofit couples Sousa’s experience and enthusiasm with a support staff trained in serving children with special needs into a novel combination of fitness and focus.
“When I started working with Maddy and Maggie, they didn’t have the balance the ride a bike, or squat without falling over because of weakness in their core,” she said. “I wanted to create a safe, fun environment for kids who often struggle to fit in, just like I did.”
Sousa’s work is more sophisticated than it outwardly appears. Beyond basic fitness training, the resistance and feedback of lifting weights and exercise of specific muscle groups improves overall mobility and body awareness. The social component of group classes also helps students overcome an equally daunting limitation to acceptance.
“Maggie used to struggle to do a single push up, and now her favorite activity in the gym is the bench press,” Sousa explained. “You have no idea how far she’s come to be able to rep out 85 pounds at 15 years old. She’s now to the point where she can help others use the equipment correctly, and has the social skills and self-confidence to do it.”
Sousa’s feats of strength are already becoming legendary. But she knows The M Foundation is as much a part of her legacy, and the attention her physical achievements bring to her other ambition is a record that will last long after the awe and applause fade.
Though the She-Hulk hook started as an aspirational nickname, it’s accidentally become a metaphor for metamorphosis — motivating others to look past appearance and ability to appreciate the true strength within.
“When I’m up on stage competing in front of fans and judges who’ve seen me before, it just pushes me harder,” Sousa said. “They already know I’m strong. But now I’m stronger.” ▩
For more details on Ludus Magnus and The M Foundation, visit wenningstrength.com and themfoundationkids.org
Originally published in the March 2018 issue of (614) Magazine
Aftermath, 2017. Photo By Brian Douglas/Courtesy Lionsgate Premiere
It’s no surprise action heroes are Hollywood’s single greatest export.
Amid wildfires, mudslides, drought, and rolling blackouts, it’s a wonder the filmmaking capital of the world has survived any better than its on-screen alter ego, regularly ravaged by everything from earthquakes to alien invasions. The cost of living is untenable, the traffic is intolerable, even the most groundbreaking feature film of last year was titled simply Get Out — and like most movies and television series these days, it wasn’t filmed there either.
California has in many ways become the star of its own disaster film. How can you tell? After years of economic malaise and mismanagement, the voters there actually asked Arnold Schwarzenegger to save them, and maybe we in Columbus should too.
This year marks the 30th anniversary of the Arnold Sports Festival, held the first weekend of this month. What started three decades ago as the Arnold Classic, the former bodybuilding championship has ballooned into a four-day health and fitness expo celebrating more than 75 established and obscure sports, from fencing to axe throwing.
But Schwarzenegger’s ties to Central Ohio run much deeper than just a long weekend once a year.
Back in 1970, Worthington Mayor Jim Lorimer invited a 23-year-old Austrian bodybuilder to the World Weightlifting Championship’s new Mr. World competition in Columbus to vie for the title and a cash prize of $500.
Arnold passed. The three-time consecutive winner of the Mr. Universe competition was already scheduled to defend his title in London, but Lorimer wasn’t taking no for an answer. He offered to fly Schwarzenegger back from London to Columbus immediately after the event there so he could compete.
Outside the then close-knit bodybuilding community, Arnold was just some guy who struggled to shop off the rack. That was all about to change. He won both Mr. Universe and Mr. World in the same weekend, a feat that was featured on ABC’s wildly popular Wide World of Sports, introducing him to his largest audience to date.
Schwarzenegger confided in Lorimer his dream of sponsoring his own tournament after he retired from the sport, and a seed was planted. After hosting several successful Mr. Olympia competitions here in the ’70s, and a brief acting hiatus in the early ’80s, Arnold ultimately launched his own competition in Columbus 30 years ago this month.
So what does that have to do with our fledgling film industry? More than you think.
Arnold has become an ambassador for Columbus for more than just sports. His annual health and fitness expo celebrates the city as much as the events and athletes. His own celebrity doesn’t just rub off on us; he’s helped introduce us to new audiences, just like we did for him with that first Mr. World competition.
He could have talked his action hero buddies Sylvester Stallone and Bruce Willis into opening Planet Movies anywhere on Earth, the motion picture rival to Hard Rock Café that coupled a Planet Hollywood restaurant with an upscale movie theater complex. But he chose Easton Town Center, and even though the concept was short-lived, the investment and effort shouldn’t be forgotten.
Action heroes also have a reputation for formulaic personas from one film to the next. Schwarzenegger is the exception, never afraid to try something unexpected or face the critics if an endeavor falls flat.
Yes, he’s been a barbarian, a commando, a spy, a hitman, and a killer cyborg from the future. But he’s also been a kindergarten teacher, Danny DeVito’s genetic better half, and even pregnant. His blockbuster appeal hasn’t stopped him from making fun of his own typecasting or being cast against type. Recent performances in Maggie as the protective father of girl slowly succumbing to a global pandemic that turns victims into zombies, and in Aftermath as an anguished survivor determined to avenge his family’s death from a mid-air collision, show an unexpected range and depth.
As soon as you think you know Arnold, he’s going to do something to prove you wrong.
How did your experience with the Arnold Classic influence the decision to shoot the film Aftermath here? What makes Columbus ideal as an emerging film city?
Columbus is a fantastic place for anything and everything. I’ve spent time in Columbus for 48 years through our bodybuilding championship, that then developed into the world championships in many different sports through our sport and fitness festival. It’s a perfect place that I use as an example, where the private sector and public sector work really well together. They’re very well coordinated. There’s no “we” against “them.” It’s always “us,” and it’s always what is best for the community. It doesn’t matter if it’s Republicans or Democrats in office, they all know they ultimately have to serve in a way to bring more businesses here. I have seen the great growth of the Arnold Classic and how dedicated the city officials are, and also the people at the state level. They’ve helped us every step of the way to make the Arnold Classic Sports and Fitness Festival successful. This is how it became the biggest in the world. This year we have 20,000 participants from 80 different nations. It’s gigantic, and we wouldn’t be able to do it anywhere else than Columbus.
When I did the movie Aftermath, I told the production company when there was a debate about should we go to Atlanta, or New Mexico, or Cleveland, I said to them, “Look, let me explain to you a little about Columbus…”. I told them basically what I told you. It’s an extraordinary place, and that I’ve talked to the mayor many times, the governor many times, and they all said if you come here with a production, we will help you because we want to establish ourselves as a city where you should go to shoot movies. Big movies, small movies, documentaries, whatever you want to do. So I took the risk. I said, “I’m not going to do the movie unless we shoot it in Columbus.” They decided to investigate, to check into it, and this is why after looking around, talking to the film commission, they realized this is a very friendly place where they are opening up their arms to productions. So we shot the movie here and the producers walked away absolutely delighted with one of the best experiences they’ve ever had.
My idea was that this would be the opening, and those production people would go to Hollywood and tell others about it. That’s exactly what happened.
This is why I think it’s a great place. Because people work together, they work tirelessly. People are talented here — the stage crew, the people who build sets — they’re energetic, they’re passionate. This is something you cannot buy. It’s not just tax credits. I made this clear, Columbus maybe doesn’t have the best tax credits, but you will get your money’s worth in many other ways, and it paid off.
Why is it important to take risks in film? Why do actors need to take risks, why do filmmakers need to take risks? Why is it important to get out of your box?
I don’t think there’s a difference from one field to another. One cannot say, why do you need to take risks in movies, why do you need to take risks in the parts that you play, what genre of movies you make? There are people who love to take risks, and there are people who like to play it safe. I think I’ve always been a person who thrives on risk. When I started in bodybuilding back in Austria they said, “You’ll never be a bodybuilder. Austrians are known for soccer and skiing. But bodybuilding? Forget it.” But I took the risk. It’s no different than taking the risk of running for governor. In movies, you have to take risks. Hollywood is a place that loves to put you in a box. You’re the action guy. You’re going to make action movies, and you’re going to do one script after the next — which I did, and that was very successful during the ’80s and ’90s. But there’s a time when I’ve done enough of that, after I’ve satisfied the studios’ needs, to show that I can do other things, that there’s a different Arnold in there than most people know. So I take the risk.
When I did Twins, I said to the studio, I know you don’t want to put much money behind this like an action movie. They said they wanted to make a minimum amount, and I said, “Then, don’t pay me? I’ll take the risk. It’s my first comedy. Why don’t you not pay me or the director or Danny DeVito, and just give us the back end?” We took that risk and it was my most successful movie at that time in my life, and I had a backend of 20 percent.
You couldn’t ever get that deal today. It was all about being able to take that risk.
When you get to be more mature, with age you’re much more believable to play a father in Aftermath or in Maggie, with more acting than action. When you’re younger and an action star, they won’t write material like this for you. They write scenes with great action, but they won’t write scenes with great dialogue and great character building. That’s just the way it is. For me, it was great to take those risks whether it’s Aftermath and Maggie, or Twins and Kindergarten Cop and Junior. I wanted to branch out because there is a side of me that is also like that. So I think taking risks in which parts you take and which productions you choose is absolutely essential.
Typecasting is tough to escape, with studios and with audiences. Is there a role or genre of film that you haven’t done and would like to?
We’re putting together a western. I’ve never really done one, and I’ve always wanted to do a western. It’s being developed with Amazon and it’s going to be eight segments, like a miniseries. It’s a terrific project — very intense, action-packed, great characters. We’ll most likely start shooting next year. It’s being written right now. This year, I’m going to be shooting Terminator in Spain, and Budapest, Hungary. We’re finalizing the script for Triplets, which will be a sequel to Twins with Eddie Murphy as the third twin brother.
The industry and audiences are still divided over the use of computer generated versions of real actors and actresses. As someone who has starred opposite a CGI version of his younger self twice, what’s your opinion on the use and future of computer generated actors?
I want to see movies that are thoroughly entertaining. I don’t look at it as whether it’s computer generated or not. Wise directors like James Cameron who use visual effects will make sure those things he can do in real life, he will shoot in real life. I think if it is well done, it’s okay to use the technology because that’s why it was developed in the first place, to be able to entertain people better. If the script says the Terminator looks exactly the same as he did in 1984, the reality is that my body doesn’t look the same as it did in 1984. So whether you computer generate it, or use someone else’s body, or they enhance your body, or use someone else’s body and put your face on it, depending on what the script says, it may be the only way you can do it. In Conan the Barbarian, I had to fight a giant snake. You could tell that it was mechanically operated, and people didn’t mind because it was the only technology available then. Computer generated technology has a very important part in movie making. I don’t mind it at all if I get enhanced one way or another to look younger — like if my character is supposed to be 50, instead of 70 — any help I can get, I’ll take it.
Speaking of reboots,I’d be remiss not to ask if King Conan rumors are true. Is there another Conan installment we can look forward to with an elder Conan?
That is correct. Those movies were really big hits way back when. It’s a theme in Hollywood, to come back to titles that are well-known. Independent companies take risks with production titles no one has ever heard of or that are new. But studios like recognizable names. That’s why Twins is becoming Triplets, it’s why they’re now writing King Conan, which is why there’s a Terminator 6 — which is all good for me, to keep those franchises alive.
Some parents push their kids into their own profession. Others push them away. The upcoming release of Midnight Sun is your son Patrick’s first starring role. How do you feel about him getting into the family business?
I never discouraged him from going into the movie business. I think it’s a great business to be in. But I also make it clear to all of my kids — no matter which field they get into — they have to be smart with business, and they have to be smart with money. My son is very serious about acting, but he’s also very serious as a businessman. He’s always been entrepreneurial. While I’m proud of him and his work in the movies, I’m also proud of him and his work outside the movies — so that he never ends up being vulnerable. It’s important to have a passion for acting, but it’s also important to be financially independent — not having to sell out and take a role just because they offer good money. He’s really serious about acting, but he’s also really smart about it. I was so proud when I saw his movie, and I think people are going to be surprised by his performance.
As a Midwestern city, Columbus can pretend to be anywhere on film, but many filmmakers don’t realize it. How practical is it to shoot here instead of more familiar film cities?
Columbus has so many different sides to it. When we shot Aftermath, we had no problem finding any backdrops whatsoever. The plane crash site was done a little bit outside of Columbus, we shot in a jail and had free reign over that location. You can find government buildings and high-rises, dangerous looking alleys. If it’s a modern looking shopping mall, there’s Easton Town Center. If you want to find a nice Spielbergian kind of community like you see in many of his movies, you have that in Columbus. You literally have everything that you need. I don’t think there is anything anyone would say you don’t have. If you’re shooting a movie that takes place in New York, I would highly recommend you shoot 95 percent of the movie in Columbus. Five percent of the movie — all of the exteriors, walking on 42nd Street or Broadway, or Central Park or aerial shots of the city — you go to New York to shoot that. But the rest it? You can shoot it all in Columbus. ▩
The 30th annual Arnold Classic will take place March 1 – 4. Aftermath is available for rent on iTunes, Amazon and YouTube.
Originally published in the November 2014 issue of (614) Magazine
When
the leaves fall and the sun hangs lower in the sky, isn’t there a place
parents can take their cooped-up kids for outdoor play in an indoor
place?
Actually, there is – and they’re popping up all over Central Ohio.
Four
short years ago, you’d have been hard-pressed to find anyone in
Columbus who could explain the concept behind a “play café.” For many
it’s still a challenge.
“Parents didn’t know
what we were all about,” said Jennifer Kramer, owner of Firefly Play
Café in Clintonville, the area’s first such business. “A lot of parents
still think of play cafés as somewhere for stay-at-home moms. That’s one
of our biggest misperceptions.”
Firefly’s
combination of drop-in and monthly membership options attracts a
variety of working parents, grandparents, neighbors, and nannies. “We
have parents who work from home, or those who work non-standard hours,
like firefighters. We actually see lots of dads.”
Kramer
was involved in Firefly’s development in the summer of 2010, and has
been the owner for the past three years. She admits her previous 11-year
stint at COSI, predominantly in early childhood programs, has had a
significant impact.
“I’m really an educator learning
how to be a business owner. That’s why I’ve tried to partner with other
local businesses,” Kramer said. Backroom Coffee is a parent favorite,
even on warmer days. A new sandwich menu will include kid-friendly
faves, like sunflower butter sandwiches and other edibles from Weiland’s
Market – an extension of Firefly’s “peanut safe” environment.
Kramer
also noted the eclectic collection of works from local artists adorning
the walls and shelves. All of the pieces are available for sale. She
only charges a modest fee to cover credit card transactions, but cash
sales go entirely to the artists. “If you like something, you can take
it off the wall and take it home. I believe in supporting Columbus
artists. I wanted to offer parents something unique, something they
won’t find at Target.”
But the
kids are customers too, and they’ll find no shortage of child-led
discovery at Firefly. More physical activities include seated scooters, a
bounce house and a curvy wooden play structure with ample options to
climb, slide, and hide. You’ll also find imaginative items – a winding,
standing-height train table, a well-stocked kiddie kitchen, and even a
cape rack for every child’s inner superhero.
Evenings,
weekends, and additional hours outside of open play offer a mix of
birthday parties, creative classes, and family photo sessions.
Programming partners and private rentals are a growing part of Firefly’s
business model.
“I wanted to
create a social outlet for young children and parents, a place that
fosters learning and community for both, outside of a formal education
setting,” Kramer said.
Success breeds
competition, and play cafés are no exception. Ohio’s often bitter and
always unpredictable winters have ushered in several new venues where
kids and parents can connect and explore together.
Allyson
Morena, owner of Piccadilly in Bexley, describes her business as a
“modern play and creative café.” Inspired by earlier concepts in Los
Angeles, New York, and London, Morena had been admiring such efforts
from afar. But much like the restaurant industry, a local proof of
concept was the nudge she needed three years ago. Piccadilly is in many
ways not an imitation of similar efforts, but a response to them.
“I
almost named it Piccadilly ‘Social Café,’” Morena said. “Parenting can
be lonely and I wanted there to be a place that was radically different
from Gymboree and Chuck E. Cheese.”
“I
wanted it to be a shared experience for parents and their children;
we’re not just an indoor playground,” Morena said. Piccadilly is
designed for parents, with dedicated diaper-changing stations and
easy-to-use accounts – so parents can enter or order from the
health-minded menu, without having to fumble through a purse or wallet.
“It’s what I wanted for myself when my kids were younger.”
Morena’s
emphasis on local and wholesome options is also apparent at Piccadilly.
Stauf’s coffee, gluten-free goodies from Cherbourg Bakery, and a food
selection featuring items from Angry Baker and Harvest Pizza round out
the robust menu. “I wanted to have some of the same options I choose for
my family.”
Initial frustrations
shared amongst startup play cafés are often logistical – like insurance
coverage. “No one knows what play cafés are, so they tend to treat us
like gyms,” Morena said. Piccadilly does offer dance and martial arts
classes open to individuals and monthly members, but it’s far from a
gym. Even larger than the almost overwhelming custom climbing structure
is the “Playdium” – an in-floor auditorium complete with digital
projector and surround-sound experience. “I think we’ve created a place
that’s clean and comfortable enough for everyday play, but also designed
for sophisticated kids parties.”
Summer day camps and year-round acting, music, and art classes attract younger and older children alike. “Even our craft classes are always intentional – what they make must be playable, hang-able or give-able,” Morena explained. “Everything we do here has a purpose.” ▩
Since the first one opened a few years ago, play cafés have popped up in Central Ohio:
Firefly Play Café in Clintonville 4822 N High Street fireflyplaycafe.com
Piccadilly in Bexley 2501 E Main Street piccadillydally.com
Peapod Play Café in Grove City 4874 Thompson Road peapodplaycafe.com
Little Green House in Grandview 808 Grandview Avenue littlegreenhouseplaycafe.com
Little Skipper’s Play Café in Hilliard 3615 Fishinger Boulevard littleskippersplaycafe.com
Eat, Play, Love in Lewis Center 8927 S Old State Road eatplayloveplaycafe.com
Lattes & Lollipops in Powell 337 W Olentangy Street lattesandlollipops.com
ZenKidz in Westerville 43 E Home Street zenkidzplaycafe.com
