There is a sickness among us…
And I won’t bother stretching the metaphor any longer. It’s the epidemic of video game movie adaptations. They stink.
The practice actually goes back a tiny bit further than this, but the first internationally released big budget film adaption on record is the infamous Super Mario Bros. starring Bob Hoskins and John Leguizamo. The idea for a film based on the Mario character came from the mind of Roland Joffe, producer at Lightmotive, who had to wait a staggering ten days in order to meet Nintendo representatives just to pitch them the idea. Nintendo (a very different Nintendo from today) went ahead with the idea and signed over the rights, and four scripts, two directors, and the passing over of Michael Keaton, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Tom freaking Hanks for lead roles, the movie began filming its epic take on the world of Shigeru Miyamoto’s pride and joy, re-imagined as a multi-dimensional trek to rescue a princess from and evil half-dinosaur Dennis Hopper.
As we all know, the film was a bomb of biblical proportions. Years later, it’s even more clear just how badly the project was falling apart at the seams from the word go. Reports of miscommunication between the husband and wife director team as well as the gross over-budgeting of both time and money during production are now legendary on the internet, and the entire experience left such a bad taste in the crew’s mouths that I wouldn’t have begrudged Bob Hoskins suffering PTSD from the entire ordeal till the end of his life, may he rest in peace. The movie made back roughly half of its $50 million budget, and has gone down in history as the gold standard “this is why you don’t make a movie adaptation of anything, ever” horror story. That was back in 1993.
Yet somehow, inexplicably, the practice hasn’t stopped since. Mortal Kombat and Street Fighter had their turns at bat next and become cult classics (for all the wrong reasons), followed by big screen adaptations of action giants like Doom and the strikingly long-running Resident Evil sequels, all while the horrifyingly bad conga line of Uwe Boll productions danced to their own ugly tune.
A Renaissance of sorts was attempted around the late 2000s when game companies suddenly decided to stop handing licenses out to the nearest schmuck with a camera, doubling down on their involvement with silver screen producers to ensure gamers got what they wanted at the local theater. An adaption of Prince of Persia was released as the first carrier of this particular banner, and while it and its successors were able to show a decent amount of production quality and actually make some decent money… game movies just haven’t quite hit the spot yet.
Why, though? It’s not like the pieces aren’t there! Games have long been recognized to carry epic, sweeping narratives that usually take place over multiple titles, something that I’m sure everyone knows as Hollywood’s favorite go-to cash cow. Characters have been pushed for years into being upgraded from high-leaping, lo-res sprites on a CRT monitor to fleshed-out, multi-dimensional personalities with motivations and quirks. Plus, even acclaimed filmmakers have recently begun dipping their fingers in the greasy video game pie every now and again, resulting in experimental projects such as L.A. Noire and surprise masterpieces like Josef Fares’ Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons. It’s clear the two mediums have been wanting to cross-pollinate for a long while now.
Yet the match just never seems made in heaven, and I think it boils down to one fundamental fact that a lot of people decide to ignore: different artistic mediums are different for good reason. Rarely, I think, will a movie critic look at The Creation of Adam and be able to put his finger on all the emotions Michelangelo was pouring onto the Sistine’s ceiling like an art critic likely would. And if that same art critic could fully understand the political strife Shostakovitch felt upon her first listening of the Fifth Symphony, I’d be very impressed. There are many shared traits between mediums, but outside of some notable exceptions, many times transferring one idea to a different artistic canvas can feel forced and clumsy.
And in my mind, there’s no medium more different from games. Unlike every other art piece under the sun, games don’t just ask for consumer involvement. They require it. A game just doesn’t qualify as a game unless the player actively does something to effect the world on the screen, whether it be killing a demon in DOOM, responding to a question in Mass Effect, or even just walking around a house in Dear Esther. A movie simply won’t be able to do this. Whether you’re leaving a flick running on Netflix while doing laundry in the other room or intently watching a film in a darkened theater from the edge of your seat, the outcome of a motion picture remains the same. In reality, a movie needs zero amount of effort in order to reach the end of its runtime. So a piece of art works best when playing to the strength of its medium, and where film only truly succeed through its storytelling, a game only truly earns its stripes through engaging gameplay.
But…
Whether we know it or not, certain movies have been benefiting from actual audience interaction for as long as the art form has existed. To give a great example of this, I point you to critically acclaimed British film director Edgar Wright.
Wright is perhaps best know in the nerd community as the mastermind behind Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, a niche title from Universal Pictures that many gamers, myself included, consider the best video game movie of all time. And it actually happens to be a graphic novel adaptation. If you haven’t seen it yet, it’s on iTunes. Go rent it and see me after class.
Despite the old-school video game aesthetic that drips from its every orifice, Scott Pilgrim earns its place as a great “game movie” from Wright’s jaw-dropping visual storytelling and style. Much of Scott’s humor, character development, and plot can be found tucked away in the tiny visual details that you may not notice till the second or fifth time watching, and only if you’re paying unbelievably close attention. Like the millions of creative ways a scene transitions from one place to another. Or Wright’s iconic use of hilarious sound effects that are timed just right to drive the mood home. I just got done watching the movie again five minutes ago and only now noticed that after Scott offers to take his girlfriend’s coat in the opening scene, he immediately and thoughtlessly throws said coat onto the doorstep. He just. Drops it. That’s incredible.
Wright may have mastered techniques like this through his comedy gold in the “Three Flavours Cornetto” trilogy, or in seamlessly blending picture and soundtrack his most recent movie, the fantastic Baby Driver, but this sort of audience involvement can be found in most modern classics as well. Piecing together a slowly unraveling plot by Christopher Nolan. Working out story implications of a cinematic shot by David Fincher. Keeping up with the lightning-fast, rhythmic dialogue of Aaron Sorkin. Heck, the argument could be made that Orson Welles could do any of the above better than those guys.
My point is, movies are good from being great movies. Games are good because a development team put together a compelling game. There’s little reason for either to reach the exact same audience as the other when certain shoes are already filled, and no amount of forcing concepts into a work will make things better. There is a wide world of entertainment-loving consumers out there, each with their own quirks and kinks and tastes. Everyone has a preference, and with the creativity on display from every corner of the world, new niches are being filled every day to entertain and please audiences. Still, no medium ever survives without getting their eyes up and seeing what other creative talents are doing every once in a while, so it’s always nice for filmmakers to involve audiences in ways that extend beyond “hey, I know that guy!” To me, that’s a true sign of a good, interactive film.
Video games and movies may never move in together and start shopping for wallpaper… but I think it’s safe to say they can still be friends.