Why are we yet to see a healthy relationship dynamic between these two media behemoths of the 21st century? With the recent release of the choose your own adventure foray Bandersnatch on Netflix, I’ve dug out an old (2017) piece on our dysfunctional, buggy, relationship between video games and cinema.
As does the other 99% of the Internet, let’s start things off with a sweeping generalisation that we presume to be fact from here on in.
Those in the upper echelons of Hollywood are unlikely to have had any true exposure to the explosion of gaming and gaming culture. The teams working on (blockbuster) movie adaptations of contemporary AAA games are not the kids who grew up playing them. The vast majority of the development team come to the source material knowing that they are to adapt it for the big screen. In addition to this, a game can pose very different experiences to every player, even the same player on a second playthrough, whereas the prescribed nature of a film, has (arguably) less storytelling tools at its disposal. This in itself is not a problem. It does however, become a problem when this vital difference is not recognised and addressed.
Liana K, gamer, youtuber, recently discussed the release of the Assassin’s Creed film, and touched upon a key point - “The psyching out effect, when adapting video games into movies.” The apologetic nature of almost every film based on a video game, is almost akin to watching a performer whose nerves get the better of them. You see all the talent, all the potential, but because they are acutely aware of their audience they become detrimentally aware of themselves. I would argue that we are yet to see an adaptation that exudes the same confidence in it’s basic conceptual premise. Let’s take for example, The Prestige. (Arguably) Nolan’s strongest offering to date, tells a story wholly appropriate to that medium. The narrative devices are suitable only to the visual, transitional, ever moving nature of the cinematic moment. If we could slow the pacing down at will, turn around and peer at Borden for as long as we wanted, explore the protagonists belongings (as can be done in many video games) the illusion would very swiftly fall apart. Environmental storytelling in film serves to compliment the narrative, where as more often than not, environment in games is the narrative. The depth may be similar but the breadth is incomparable. Oppose The Prestige to a massive open world game such as The Witcher 3. If we were prescribed a narrative pace there would be no chance in hell of experiencing the full breadth of the world. In cinema you hear the wind in the trees because the Director wants you to at that very moment, but in a game? You hear the wind whenever you stand in the woods and listen.
A narrative justification of an action in a video game e.g. why must I scale this building and kill a bunch of henchmen? Will often be a less than plausible narrative justification for the actions of a character in a film. For a start the mechanics and level design feed this sense of justification by default. This pathway is blocked, so let’s scale the building, these henchmen are in my way, let’s take them out. A game can back this up with emotional, character driven reasoning for the same action, via dialogue, cutscenes or any multitude of story element delivery options. But it doesn’t have to. The medium has built in justification for action, we are here to play. Whereas a film does not. In her Radio 4 documentary on video games and their (lack of) cultural recognition, Naomi Alderman interviews Rhianna Pratchett, who discusses video game storytelling with the analogy of ‘action equals character’ the player is defined by what they do, which is often at complete odds with the cinematic justification when ‘character equals action’ when written characters behave in certain ways simply because that's what they do. An obvious example of this being the stream of one-dimensional comic book movie villains (the universally loved God of mischief Loki still being the one true exception.) The mixture of the low self-esteem of the video game movie as a genre, with the challenges of suitable action justification are two elements that perpetuate the failure of the video game movie. The key to solving this, is in the adaptation. Choose your story wisely.
In some cases, it could never work. taking the video game culture, which has such strong roots in exploratory and exciting unknown beginnings and apply it to the mainstream Hollywood paradigm, as much as these games seem to fit right in - Protagonist, Antagonist, various obstacles making the hero’s journey hard. Obvious right?
The flaw is that the initial video game pioneers were the unassuming computer programmer, harbouring all of this untapped creative potential, spending it on developing corporate software or operating systems. When in actual fact they were the unlikely hero, waiting to unleash upon the world what is arguably the most human of all art forms, precisely because it is interactive. Playing on human connectivity, from developer, programmer, through art and design, to the player, who gets to literally become the hero and see this epic journey through to the conclusion. Many films work on the premise that we as viewers, assume the point of view of our protagonist, that’s why they are nearly always relatable, so the emotional trials they face, we also feel to some degree. But a game? We don’t assume a POV, we assume the protagonist, their actions, their behaviours, their interactions. Giving the potential for what is a much more emotionally affecting experience.
Book adaptations have seen massive success, because anyone alive making films understands the mechanics and cultural significance of the source medium (not necessarily the source material, there have been plenty of badly adapted pieces of literature.) The nearest thing we have so far to a conceptually coherent video game adaptation, actually seems to be from a game that doesn’t even exist - Wreck it Ralph based on the fictional game Fix it Felix. The simplicity of the arcade style video game source medium, feeds a lot of the emotional conflict, creating trials and tribulations within the script. What Wreck it Ralph does, is expands upon the simple premise, using it more as thematic material than source material - it challenges the perpetual nature of arcade games, the never ending struggle of good (usually the player) vs evil (usually the NPC’s - the game itself.) The game is the literal representation of the opposing force to the protagonist. The fact that Wreck it Ralph plays upon the very nature of the games it is referencing, allowing this to permeate into character, production design and the overarching narrative, could be due to the fact that that writers, directors and animators, grew up not only loving, but having a deeper and more intrinsic understanding of these arcade style games.
Another key aspect here, as previously mentioned with regards to The Prestige is that not all story components are suitable to work across all mediums. Any and all storytellers should firstly be aware of this, and secondly, remain steadfast when being lured into such a project. A Portal or Bioshock film would grotesquely contradict the very nature of their premise. The game mechanics not only create an entertaining and sellable product - they were used as integral pillars of storytelling, the flint tips of emotional resonance on the end of the spears of artwork, level design, dialogue etc. These stories resonate because they are playable, interactive, games. For lack of a better simplification, see the ‘In soviet russia video game plays you!’ meme.
It should be argued that one cannot (or at least should not) take a cinematic style video game, that has clearly been influenced by film, but has then transcended that initial inspiration and created its own narrative suitable to its own medium, and then condense it back down again into movie form. Some games simply have too much ludo-narrative harmony to make that a successful transition.
This is nothing new. Alan Moore famously stated that Watchmen was unfilmable. What he means, and rightly so, is that his story was perfectly suited to the graphic novel form - the mechanics of the medium, the way it is consumed, alongside the cultural context surrounding it, were the optimum way not only to enhance his narrative, but to make it transcendent. Without wishing to be too much of a Hideo Kojima fanboy, this is what we are beginning to see (or arguably have been seeing since he began making games.) What has happened, and will happen more, is that his (amongst others) stories can only be told through an interactive medium, because the fabric of his art lies within the inter-connectivity of our relationship to them.
To paraphrase John Berger ‘Men look at women, women watch themselves being looked at.’ The male gaze has become the player's gaze. For games, films, books or any other, it is important to consider this medium specific gaze, but especially so for games. The Prestige plays on cinematic sleight of hand, it knows the angle of our gaze, and allows us to see only what it decides, when it decides it. For a true understanding of the player’s gaze, we look back to Kojima and Metal Gear Solid. When battling Psycho Mantis, a psychic character, the player is unable to defeat the boss because he predicts your every move, it is not until you physically remove your controller, and re-insert it into the second controller port, that you break the ‘psychic’ connection with the NPC, and are able to defeat the boss. My brief overview of the process cannot do justice to the actual first time experience of this. My 10 year old mind was well and truly blown. The game I play, plays back. The game reminds you that interaction, means yes you affect the game, but that it can also affect you too. Due to its very nature, this experience can never, ever be adapted for any passive medium.
So will we ever see a critically and financially successful video game movie? No. Nor should we want to. Those stories deserve their rightful place within games. Just as the best stories for film, deserve their rightful place there as well. Perhaps what we should be asking ourselves, is why do we not yet offer video games the same critical and cultural weight that we do to film and literature? And what does this say about us?