Pix Brix Review - Bringing Street Fighter 2's Chun-Li into the Third Dimension...Sort of

One of my hobbies is perusing Amazon—an expensive folly that usually sees me spending more money than I have any sensible need to burn. I’m a sucker for a deal, and sometimes, those deals stack into a hefty sum. In the end, the house always wins. And Amazon is a veritable gambling hall that dispenses not money, but merchandise.

It’s not just gluttony or that quick dopamine hit that sends me down Amazon’s endless digital pits of product. Sure, I’m hoping to save big on the next graphic novel I want, or a video game, or some gadget that I may or may never use. But just as often, I’m looking for content—that next oddity I can explore, review, and maybe…blog about.

Hence Pix Brix, a sort of Lego alternative in which enthusiasts can connect small blocks—beads, really—to recreate “pixelized” scenes of nature, classical art, and yes, even video games. It’s not unlike the bead art from yore in which mosaics of different colored dots could be placed, then baked, thus fusing the individual pieces into a singular entity. Cats, dolphins, Super Mario, a Ninja Turtle—the results were limited only by one’s imagination and the colors on hand.

Well, Pix Brix removes the heating step of the process, offering would-be artisans to instead slide the colored “brix” sideways into each other’s grooves, eventually piecing together a creature or scene of whatever the given template hopes to emulate. On the Pix Brix Amazon page, people can even recreate such storied art as Vincent van Gogh’s Starry Night or Edvard Munch’s The Scream.

Initially, I sniffed at these kits; call me an elitist, but taking such timeless words of art and “de-resing” them in chunky, awkward monstrosities is something akin to criminal. It’s certainly kitsch, and begs the question: Rather than reconstructing (plagiarizing?) Van Gogh’s work into an inferior form, why not just buy a print of the genuine article? Why not just bask beneath a high-quality duplicate versus one of these low-resolution facsimiles (and save hours in the assembly process, at that)?

But video games, they're different. They're already digital, already composed by thousands of dots—pixels—that are cleverly arrayed to simulate a living being or scene. So why not reassemble these colored squares for a real life, physical duplicate? The end result might even trump the original graphic. And that’s exactly the thought Pix Brix also apparently had—who wouldn’t want to bring classic Sonic or Kirby into the third dimension? In the end, the company didn’t go with either Sega or Nintendo, though. It went with Capcom.

Remember Street Fighter 2? The original vanilla version with its meager eight-character selection screen? That’s what Pix Brix has licensed here: Ryu, E. Honda, Blanka, Guile, Ken, Chun-Li, Zangief, and Dhalism. The idea, in theory, is to buy all eight kits, with each dedicated to one of the character’s profiles as seen on that now iconic character-selection screen. Indeed, once the entire roster has been reproduced, it would be quite the display of decorative eye candy.

But I wasn’t going to go that far. I’d never even heard of Pix Brix before, and so, as a kind of trial run, I went with one of my favorite leading ladies—the inimitable Chun-Li. And thank goodness. The construction process was a slow and even painful one—piecing together her 768 beads took several hours (as I watched TV). Although Pix Brix’s side-locking connection system is a clever alternative to traditional bead art, it isn’t perfect. Unlike Legos, which snap almost effortlessly together, the Pix Brix process is not as elegant, proving to be a stubborn, even stodgy process at times. My poor index finger got increasingly sore as I tried to align and slide certain bricks just right into the other. Finally, after much patience and some pain, my pixelated princess was finished...and I was happy with the final result. But, yes, I’d be reluctant to endure the process seven more times. Chun-Li is my start and finale; filling out the remaining eight-character roster (at roughly $22.00 apiece) is just too much of a pricey chore.

And, in truth, I fear it'll be the same for others. Want to create Johannes Vermeer’s Girl with a Pearl Earring? That’s 6400 pieces, or about 8x more than the stones needed to make Chun-Li. Some people might consider this undertaking the ultimate puzzle to fidget with, and eventually, display. But for me, the effort isn't worth the time and money spent.

One last criticism: regarding Chun-Li, some of the beads are hard to tell apart. Their colors are really just subtle shades of each other--different hues of blues and browns--making deciphering some bricks from others incredibly tricky in lower-light conditions.

And one last compliment: No pain, no gain…as the old saying goes. Despite not having the “fun” I wanted, I did feel a sense of pride with I finished. I will be displaying my Chun-Li somewhere in my apartment. With pride, I might add. It's a great tribute and keepsake to one of gaming's greatest leading ladies.

But see for yourself: As shown, I’ve documented the gal’s lovely reconstruction, from digital thumbnail to foot-long portrait. Doesn't she look pleased? - D

The Pix Brix Street Fighter 2 series comes in eight configurations, with Chun-Li being my flavor of choice. Her finished design appears on both the front and back of the box along with game art of the entire roster of characters. Inside, there're lots and lots of beads destined to coalesce into the blue, thick-thighed beaut.

As a sidenote, here's a Pix-Brixified version of The Scream. Does it gain or lose something in the translation?

Chun-Li from top...

...to bottom.

The kit's by-the-number template of Chun-Li's color design. If anything, the maiden's construction grants new appreciation of just how much artistic acumen went into those eight unassuming squares stationed at the bottom of the game's character selection screen.

The "brix" look a little like Legos, but seem designed more for 2-D art as depicted here with Miss Chun-Li. The process involves sliding each wafer through the jagged grooves of its neighboring piece. Usually, the process works fine. Sometimes, those indentions resist a perfect fit, requiring some stalwart focus and, maybe, bruised finger tips.