Rantings: On the Difficulty of Cross Media Artistic Transitions

Welcome back, my still nonexistent readers! Today starts the second series of topics for this blog. Here, I discuss, explain, and rant about some theory or experience I have had with art, especially in the electronic entertainment category. Some of these may simply be how I saw the industry move or how I would prefer it to move, and some of them may be the methods I used for my own designs. For now, though, we'll start with an easy one, this being my second post and all. So, without further ado, we'll start the topic at hand, also known as...

Why do all video game movies suck?

Because, let's face it, they pretty much all have. Some of them are better than others, but not a single one, in twenty plus years, has even remotely been a critical success, and barely any have been successful commercially or within their own fandom, either. As I see it, there are three reasons for this, and I'll start with the easy one, the one we all wish was the only reason.

1. They just don't care.

That is, the people involved have little to no interest in making a good movie, and since the laws of probability make it nigh impossible for a good movie to be arranged randomly, these movies will thus not be good. Oh, sure, a team of infinite monkeys would eventually create the video game to movie equivalent of Hamlet, but hopes are not high. They would make it faster than Uwe Boll, at least.

But we can't lay all the blame on hack directors exploiting German tax loopholes, even if all the video game movies he made combined add up to approximately one fifth of a good movie, based on reviews. After all, it's not like the Mario Brothers, Double Dragons, Resident Evil, Tomb Raiders, and Mortal Kombats of the movie world won very many awards. Yes, someone with both a record of competency and interest in geek-themed sources, like Peter Jackson, would be cause for some optimism. But even when decently respected writers and creators try to make a serious, good movie out of a well-respected video game, we get results like Silent Hill, which only managed to be one half of a good movie. This suggests problems with the transition beyond simple passion. Which brings us to point 2.

2. Movies are not the logical medium for video game transitions.

No, this isn't part of the "Video games are not art" argument (that discussion will come in a later week,) or even a comparison to literature and other sources of more successful movie adaptations. It's more a matter of design and storytelling methods between the two. Video games are not, despite popular opinion to the contrary, using the language of movies for their own stories. They're using television instead.

In most movies and literature, the story arc is about one major arc. The protagonists and setting are introduced, the plot is explained, one of the three classic conflict styles disrupts the status quo, and while there may be myriad lesser conflicts from beginning to end, the movie's conflict is resolved in the climax, and tension lowers through the denouement. Television, however, relies on a series of climaxes throughout the series, with at least one major antagonist or complication introduced per episode. Many of the best shows have overarching stories as well; Buffy had its season Big Bads, Lost has the fundamentals mysteries of the island and the crash, and the Fugitive had the hunt for the one-armed man. To gamers, these episodes are levels, and those conflicts are the hazards of the setting, the enemies unique to it, or most often a boss.

When making a video game movie, one has to find a way to use many familiar elements of the games while destroying this level structure completely. This is tricky prospect, certainly, but it's not impossible. Movies like (again) The Fugitive, Serenity (I hope you people enjoy a lot of Joss Whedon references, because you'll be seeing a lot of them,) Maverick, The Adams Family, and The Simpsons were able to successfully transfer their concept from the small screen, often by compressing the entire story arc of the series into a single two-hour story, taking it from a series without a connecting story arc (which admittedly games rarely have the luxury of, we gamers love final bosses,) or simply making the movie into a single episode of the show, often a sequel after the original conflict resolution. And video game movies have tried these things before. Silent Hill was basically the first game compressed, while Tomb Raider ignored the plot of the games entirely and posited itself as a new adventure. Neither did all that well. More importantly, due to the available time of the target age of gamers and the increasing cost of making a video game, they are often abandoning the level/boss system in favor of shorter games which can be comparable to movies in terms of length and story structure. God of War (but not the sequel) would be a good example of this. How can they theoretically succeed when so many other video game movies failed, despite not having this condition? That brings us to the third issue, and the one that is both more complicated and sure to make this posting late.

3. Video game movies have to learn to be less "video game" and more "movie."

This is a more nebulous point, I'm afraid. The first problem is that too many video game movies try to maintain the structure of a video game. Games usually rely on a sequence of alternating action and story, with the latter being the infamous and controversial cut scenes. There's nothing wrong with cut scenes, and most video games with any storyline have them. Yes, even Half Life 2; they still count. But the exposition/action/exposition/action pattern doesn't work as well in movies; it comes across as stilted and disjointed.

Action movies do follow a similar pattern, though. The problem isn't in the expositional parts of the movies, provided the story is coherent and dialogue well written and acted (which it almost never is; see point 1.) The problem is the action. In a video game, the designer has no idea how the player will react. The story can make the main character an easily scared pacifist if the player just spent ten hours messily hacking apart countless orcs. And everyone treats Gordon Freeman as a respected scientist and hero, even if during their speeches he repeatedly shoots them in the head and messes around with their personal possessions with a gravity gun. Most video game heroes have an archetype they are supposed to act like, but the designer can’t be sure that the player will act that way in the action of the game, so character development takes place in the cut scenes.

But in a movie, the action sequences are as crucial to the development of a character as the plot sequences. Action sequences can't just be about showing the CGI equivalent of a popular enemy or environment. It's here that betrayals are performed, heroes fall in unlikely ways, and the character of the heroes is revealed. Let's assume an enemy fortress that the protagonist must infiltrate. Rambo, Han Solo, and James Bond would each go about that infiltration in a different way, and a video game movie protagonist would have to do the same. And this doesn't mean simulating the violence of the game, either; the heroes could just as easily trick the enemies, fast-talk their way in, sneak past, disguise themselves, or use some other method.

And even if the method they would use is "stab them with a sword," that doesn't make the characterization any less crucial. Let's use three examples of sword-using video game protagonists who could plausibly be movie heroes. Kratos of God of War is not a subtle fighter, and his fighting method reflects his single-minded, sociopathic brutality. He doesn't quip or taunt his enemies and rarely even speaks; he simply sees something that must be destroyed to accomplish goal, and he does so as quickly as possible. It doesn't matter if this thing is a hideous monster, a giant god, or an innocent being with no quarrel with him. The Prince of Persia (at least in the first game of the new series,) is another story. Instead of engaging an opponent directly, he uses acrobatics to evade enemies, putting them at a disadvantage. His personality is distracted, rarely focusing on either the glory or the horror of battle. He worries more about his personal issues and his concerns about the situation he is in, and unlike Kratos, he rarely shuts up. Link, however, embodies the stoic warrior. Combat is not an obsession or an honor, just a duty. He is a more traditional fighter, eschewing elaborate acrobatics or brutal finishing attacks in favor of a simple sword and shield. However, he also is a studious warrior who analyzes the weaknesses of his enemies, especially the ones his basic combat maneuvers can't defeat. In these cases, he whips something out of his Hyrulian utlity belt, disarming his enemy when it's at its strongest.

In a later post, I plan on focusing on a single game and offering suggestions on how to make that game the perfect (or at least the adequate) video game movie we have waited so long for. My first plan is God of War, since I already referenced it so many damn times, but other games will be considered. But this entry is late and long enough as it is. See you in two days! Okay, fine, one day; I'll get better at this whole "timing" thing.

My Life: What's the point of this blog, really?

This is the beginning of what I hope to be an incredible journey. It will be an exploration of the inspirations that made me who I am, the creations I have devised over nearly three decades of desperately synthesizing into the creative ether, and the philosophies that define what I do and what I hope to see of the future and, even more importantly, my future. I hope this will lead to me understanding myself more as a person and becoming something better as a result.

Or this could be a bunch of semi-coherent rantings at best. Because, honestly, I have know idea what I'm doing here.

Let me get started with the beginning, then. My name is Joseph Barder, as you might have noticed from that little box in the corner. No, it is not Seth or Vyreth, as some people might have assumed based on how they got here. There is no random self-aggrandizing titles involved, nor random series of numbers. This won't be done behind any of the identities, avatars, signatures, or pseudo-personalities that I developed online. What would be the point? Writing as someone else, even if it's someone else that agrees with pretty much all my points but can conveniently do it behind a mask, wouldn't really change me.

Besides, screen names lack permanence. I want it established that this is me, or at least the me that I am as of January 28th, 2008. Soon to be January 29th, so if I don't want to be late for my first damn post, I really had better hurry. Sorry about that, rough day at work.

And that's another thing. This is supposed to be about my plans and hopes, not my daily trouble and distractions. I tried doing a journal of a more traditional nature before. It rather quickly turned to a weekly angst and whinefest. There is something cathartic about that, but that will not be the subject of any of these blogs. The short version of my social life is that it's not especially good, I don't speak the crazy moon language you humans call love, and while I hope that will change some day, obsessing over it will not help. Similar, regardless of the highs and lows of my current employment, it will not be discussed. Any significant changes in my employment will warrant a mention, but that's it. Besides, one thing that writing using an actual name changes is how much employment talk you can get away with. Similarly, my political views can be avoided, at least for now. Here's a hint, though: the candidate I'm rooting for has an A in his, her, or its name. Enjoy.

So what WILL I be writing about, once I get past the pretentious introduction? Well, I intend/hope/desperately cling to the idea of keeping a schedule. I will be updating on set days 5 times a week. Mondays, like this one, are for more personal discussion of myself. This is again not "here's the news on how Joseph Barder's life sucks/is awesome," but it will be a discussion of my interests, groups I belong to, and history not pertaining directly to my creative endeavors.

Wednesdays are about what I believe, especially about art, video games, and art as video games (yes, that last one will be a subject here at some point.) Fridays get past ideas into some of the things I designed over the years, from Dungeon and Dragon settings to full video game design documents. Well, there is an exception to that last part. Some of the ideas I developed were, well, developed A LOT. As in I wrote as many as 400 pages about it. And while I can accept the remote possibility of someone reading this and stealing my ideas, these big ones are past the idea stage and moving into investment. Therefore, any project I wrote more than 100 pages on will not be included here. Interested video game companies: email me. We'll talk. Oh, and one more warning. Many of these ideas were created when I was very young. These ideas are nonetheless important to my personal and artistic development, and thus they should be written about. But some of them are very silly.

Saturdays are my inspirations. They are the games, television shows, books, movies, authors, and more esoteric things that have inspired my own work. Besides summing up what the thing is and what it meant to me, I'll review what I think about the art work is as an adult (since many of them inspired very young me, they also are very silly,) and some examples of what I use from it in my own work. Finally, Sundays are pretty simple: reviews. I picks something I recently watched or played to or near completion, and then explain why it good or bad. Unlike the other topics, which are pretty structured and thus already have twenty or more subjects that I can eventually write about, this section will vary based on what I did that week and I'll be flying blind here. Yes, I'm scared too.

And that's about it, at least until Wednesday. Yes, content is still minimal, but hey, it's my first post. I had to give at least a semi-coherent explanation for why I'm about to wave goodbye to countless hours of free time. And I hope you continue to read this as I improve my writing and develop with my writing. Unless this blog crashes and burns within two weeks, in which case I hope you forget to mention it. But I did write over 400 pages on a single video game idea, so I'm nothing if not dedicated.