This was originally published last November as part of my previous blog, and I thought that really it ought to belong here, with some revisions, what with it being the best part of 2k on videogaming. I suppose it's a review of sorts, even though I never intended it to be that way...
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Coming out of retirement to write about video games. It feels so cliched... How long has it been?
Recently, I decided to just take the plunge and buy a game brand new off the shelf. No, it isn't Arkham Origins (which we'll get on to in a minute), but instead the latest and greatest horse from SUDA51's venerable stable, Grasshopper Manufacture, Killer Is Dead. I followed all the development news and watched all the trailers that I could until its eventual release, which I then promptly missed due to the small matter of going on choir tour to Sweden. I finally purchased it last week (Friday, I think) and have been spending some quality, early morning hours working through the predictably incomprehensible story. Now, even though I've still got Flower, Sun and Rain somewhere with me, the last SUDA51 game I actually completed was Killer7, to which I will be making many comparisons, and also comparing with Platinum Games' seminal action comedy brawler, Bayonetta.
Killer Is Dead is the timeless tale of an amnesiac executioner, who after waking up with a robotic arm falls on his feet by finding employment with a state-funded assassination firm. The deeper we delve into the plot, the stranger everything becomes, with villains invading dreams, government cloning conspiracies, and the eternal battle between light and dark. Also, the Moon. Yes, the Moon has always been a prominent part of the Grasshopper oeuvre, and this game is certainly no different. In fact, you can't seem to get away from it this time. The game play itself is simplistic hack-and-slash, with a projectile secondary weapon, so no real surprises in store here. The levels comprise mostly of fighting through corridors of generic enemies who require their own specific strategies to defeat... but this mostly boils down to dodging, entering witch bullet time, and mashing the attack button. It's certainly more involved than Killer7, anyway. The protagonist's name in this case (just the one protagonist this time too) is Mondo Zappa, the stoic and duty obsessed, katana expert executioner. Originally named Mondo Smith(!), which in Japanese would have sounded just like Sumio Mondo from Flower, Sun and Rain, his name is doubtlessly inspired by Frank Zappa. Or possibly Moon Unit Zappa? DON'T FORGET THE MOON.
The graphical style of this game is much like Killer7's, cel-shading with three main colour tones, but improved for a HD generation. Of course, being a generation advanced (and far into the lifespan of this generation of consoles too), the lines are clean as you like, and the animation silky smooth. Looking at Mondo stood in a room with Wires (this game's Heaven Smiles) ambling towards you is possibly and lamentably as close to a High Definition Killer7 remake we're going to get. As mentioned above, and with most Grasshopper titles, the actual game play is a bit... tacked-on. It's just a means to an end, the end being to prove how utterly insane this all is. But there's a bit of a problem as well. It's almost as if this game is saying "Look at me! Look at me! I'm from SUDA51, and I'm CRAZY!", before leaping around the room...and not always with any real justification. Okay, I haven't finished the game yet, but it is sadly less compelling than previous efforts. It's almost too aware at times, especially when there's a pre-boss cut scene detailing that even though the characters could settle their differences amicably, the script will not allow it and there must be a fight as 'there would be complaints from the gamers' if there wasn't.
Thankfully, in a flash of much more familiar tones, Mondo is riding an elevator as part of a later mission and having a radio conversation with one of the other characters about ethics. He is asked whether he thinks the game is ethical, to which he replies it isn't his job to worry about that, just to execute the targets given to him. Don't get me wrong, I'm still enjoying the game very much, but it's exchanges like the former that are much more common than the latter, which doesn't really have much more than pure entertainment value, rather than actually making you think. Sure, you're controlling a merciless professional assassin killing numberless faceless grunts before the boss (which, tweaked, is every action platforming game ever), but just because you're funded by the state... Does that make it right? It's certainly not in the "What is a Nation?" stakes, but it's a shining moment in an otherwise dull scene. There's more than enough commentary been written about the infamous 'Gigolo Missions', which are a really odd addition to the game as they serve so little purpose. Basically, they're bonus missions that earn you extra subweapons or upgrades for those you already have. Badly scripted portals for teenage-style titillation, it's a shame something so directionless was included. The best thing about the whole sequences has to be the banging techno beat that starts once you equip the x-ray glasses.
Speaking of what a Nation is, let's look at Killer7 for a moment. 2005's insane supernatural future noir psycho-political horror thriller has got to be one of my favourite games ever made. It's violent. It's graphic. It's brilliant. It behaves more like a book or an interactive art exhibition rather than a game, with a control scheme pared down to the very bones, simple logic puzzles and set pieces all designed to do one thing and one thing alone: further the plot. Part first-person-shooter, part puzzler and all mind-bender, the stupefyingly simple controls actually help draw you in to the scenario. Rather than having to remember complicated buttons combos, it becomes almost reflex to draw your weapon, scan for enemies, fire and reload. Also, you have infinite ammo. Handy, eh?
It also contains some of the maddest things to ever be included that just seem to work: the pigeon that helps you win a boss battle, a Luchador who headbutts a bullet into submission (that's one thing that has disappointed me about Killer Is Dead, the lack of Lucha Libre), and of course, the dead man with all the answers from the very start (spoilers! lol), Travis. Seriously, I can't tell you how much I love that guy. There is so much that defies expectation that you simply have to accept it in order to move on - the suspension of disbelief. The setting, basically a modern cold war between the United States of American and Japan, is the theatre for conspiracy of the highest order, national identity, orphan trafficking, and of course, an assassin with an identity crisis. The Moon is featured here, but without explanation as a loading screen. It's never explained...like much of the game, in fact. It helps that it isn't an action game (in the conventional sense), that navigating the levels is basically done for you so you can focus on the matter of unraveling what is actually happening behind the scenes (make sure you speak to Travis every time you see him!). Killer7 is much deeper than your usual offering, 2005 or not, and it feels like Killer Is Dead wants this depth so desperately but just... Misses. The soundtrack helps, making every different level and area easily recognisable by sound alone, not to mention the bizarre sound effects when you solve puzzles or collect items.
What I really can't criticise Killer Is Dead for actually, is the audio. The voice acting is well implemented, even if the script oscillates wildly from overly serious to completely inane, and the actual soundtrack is sufficiently interesting and engaging in parts. As I said, the script is sometimes mad-cap, and other times takes itself way too seriously - the bizarre office scenes before and after each mission starring alien Doctors, a musician with no ears and a ghostly artist are just mental. Mondo's strict recitation of the game title at the start and end of the playable mission serve no purpose to remind you THAT THIS IS A GAME OKAY. Mondo's sidekick, Mika, is the comic foil to all this terminal seriousness brought about by our central hero, what with what must be the world's most annoying voice and quasi-school uniform.
Anyway. I want to turn to an action game from a different studio as a kind of...second opinion. Anybody who's seen Bayonetta in action can confirm how utterly ridiculous it is, in terms of setting, action, really dreadful casual sexual banter... Bayonetta is a game of extremes, right down to the button-mashing boss fights. While the fourth wall is far more sacred, its perfectly aware of its existence as a truly ridiculous game, and clutches this to its healthy (but not quite heaving) bosom. Alongside the main platforming sections, there are motorbike driving levels and even a rail shooter section to complement the high-octane action that's the mainstay. Having not only read all about, but also experienced the Gigolo Mission of Killer Is Dead, Bayonetta really knows how to play the the titillation game. Cheesy, sexually suggestive script writing, played for the most groans available, coupled with the scantily clad protagonist (that catsuit is made out of hair, don't forget), it rides a line of acceptability - if you take it too seriously, there's plenty to take issue with, but really, the entire premise is completely ridiculous that this is the level it should be taken on. The concise but effective combo system (dodge, vertical attack, horizontal attack) has enough timed strikes in it to make it better than your usual mash-a-thon (Killer is Dead, I'm actually looking at you), and worth getting used to for the Boss battles (especially Jeanne's). By dodging at the last second, you can enter a slow motion state known as "witch time", which of course aids your combos and avoids damage.
Bayonetta lives in a place of endless suggestive winks, nudges and nods, not to mention the lollipops... and triumphs because of it. Not only does it succeed as an action game, but it also succeeds in presenting an innuendo-charged atmosphere, which is where Killer Is Dead falls down flat. Instead of of being a classy, James Bond-esque kind of affair, the Gigolo Missions are all about mindless point scoring while staring at rendered lingerie.
Hiatus
I finally finished Killer Is Dead earlier. I say finally, but the main campaign isn't very long at all. Assessing it as a pure action game, it falls down compared to Bayonetta and even (or should that be especially?) the Devil May Cry series, the 4th of which I am most familiar with. As a Grasshopper Manufacture game however, it still holds its own at least. The reliance of chess symbolism and the centre stage placement of the Moon feels very heavy handed though, and it's more the memory of these elements being mindbending rather than the game presenting events that use these symbols (like the chess scenes from Killer7 being nigh incomprehensible) where other things are happening that carry you through instead. As a huge SUDA51 fan, I have enjoyed my first playthrough, and will play more, but I can see why somebody who isn't as great a fan would feel let down by the almost deliberately incomprehensible scenario, the less-than-helpful controls, and quite frankly, the voice of the main character's assistant. Even then, the lack of luchadors is simply disappointing.
In conclusion, I certainly don't regret my purchase... But only just. Having lived with both Killer7 and Flower, Sun and Rain, I'm used to the madness and often inhibiting controls. Maybe though I've been spoiled by the Arkham series, with its seamless combat that makes no demands on the player; 4 button combat has never been better. Well... Except for Origins. For some reason WB Montreal futzed the combat rhythm and collision detection slightly which can sometimes lead to Bats swinging wildly into thin air and losing your combo score and sometimes even getting shot.
At the end of the day, I have enjoyed my journey to the dark side of the moon and back, and maybe, just maybe, the next game from Grasshopper Manufacture can reclaim that sense of wonder and utter madness of previous titles without having to make compromises. Hell, even when you boil it all down, Super Meat Boy was one of the most addictive and rewarding games of this generation, the spirit of which was picked up on by Black Knight Sword, which added to the classic platformer recipe with its unique kabuki theatre art setting.
Oh well. Until next time... Tomorrow, it could be you.
Thanks to the miracles that are Cardinal Sin and cheap ticket night at The Plaza, Truro, I've managed to see four major films this summer, which easily equals the last three years put together. Transformers: Age of Extinction, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, Guardians of the Galaxy, and now most recently Hercules, starring none other than Dwayne Johnson, the world's henchest man. Some spoilers ahead.
As we drew into the final set piece, popcorn long finished and the ice liquidising in my medium Pepsi, it struck me that Hercules is probably the best Dungeons and Dragons or Fire Emblem film we're gonna get. Now, before you mobilise with pitchforks and torches, just hear me out, okay? I mean, think about how well received the actual D&D film was... I remember watching about half an hour of that particular debacle and deciding that perhaps we should leave it for dead, but no, the venerable institution of tabletop has thankfully survived... But the direct-to-DVD sequels have definitely disappeared without a trace. I'll go out on a limb here and assume that most people are familiar with the typical D&D set-up: character stat sheets, citadel miniatures, the Dungeon Master and of course, the Dice bag. FE, on the other hand...
Fire Emblem is one of Nintendo's oldest franchises, the first installment of which was released in April, 1990, and saw its most It's a turn based strategy game with a core cast of characters who stay with you the entire campaign. One of the abiding concepts in FE is permadeath - if a unit falls, that's it. Goodbye. The setting is always in the confines of the usual swords 'n sorcery, so knights, mounted cavalry and mages abound. You know, spells and shit. There's an element of emotional investment in these games as well, as even though you can end up with a grand cast, it isn't possible to field a large army. Instead, you end up with a core team of heavyweights and critical hitters, backed up by healers and perhaps even some kind of bard or dancer, that by the end of the campaign face an enemy force that can be up to four or five times the size. Instead of a DM, the narrative, following the usual kind of "deposed prince seeks justice for his murdered parents by overturning the corrupt warlord and their armies" thing is delivered by the script and progressed through out of battle dialogue. While I won't get into the nuts and bolts of the weapon system, suffice to say that each major weapon, spears, axes and swords, are represented in your party, with at least one archer for long range support.
Names for places, characters and items (especially magic tomes and weapons) are taken from legend, with Norse mythology being a particularly rich vein in recent years, but references to the tales of Ancient Greece and Mesopotamian Gods turn up just as much. The titular Emblem is a McGuffin. Sometimes it's a shield, upgraded by the addition of certain gems, other times it's a royal heirloom and key to an ancient shrine, and yet still it can even be a medallion that houses the soul of a dread Goddess. Your main character, a "Lord" is the protagonist of the show, who packs their own unique character model and weaponry, often with special stat bonuses. Instead of the dice roll, stats and battles are governed by a clever piece of robot brain called the Random Number Generator. What does all this have to do with Hercules though?
Personally, I thought Hercules was great. A really solid and entertaining Adventure film, the likes of which hasn't been in fashion for years and years. Beginning with a montage of a few of 'the' Labours, The Nemean Lion, the Hydra &c, the film opens with a battle against pirates who have been listening to the story as told by a young man trussed up, in certain bodily peril. The camera cuts to Johnson, stood backlit wearing loincloth and a lion's head, which immediately sets the tone. Battle ensues, and we see that Herc is part of a well oiled and tactically deployed team, each with their own personalities and fighting styles. The young storyteller is the ragtag group's bard, and Hercules' nephew, who struggles to find a place for his words in a decidedly physical outfit. The film continues with a short origin composed of the more well known elements of Hercules' early life, sired by the King of the Gods, and the strangling of snakes, sticking to the 12A classification, of course. Turns out that Hercules has retired from any kind of public celebrity, and is trolling around with a bunch of mercenaries to escape his troubled past (look, I didn't say it wasn't cliched), working jobs like removing pirates to raise enough to travel to the far side of the Black Sea, and live a life of solitude, away from his Demons. Classic solitary Hero story. Before the group can decide what sort of job to look for next, Rebecca Ferguson appears as Ergenia, an emissary from Lord Cotys, the King of Thrace, to employ this happy band.
Let's get this straight, Dwayne Johnson is enormous. There's no suspension of disbelief needed here. Thankfully, his ability to sell this kind of material seems to be improving as well, after such shambles as The Scorpion King and Doom. He was also, in my opinion, the best part of 2009's Race to Witch Mountain remake; if anything he was only half the man then that he is now, merely through muscle mass. He's a real pleasure on screen in this, almost tricking us in thinking that this is deadly serious, before another tightly choreographed action set piece kicks off and he gets to bust some heads. One particular battle is fought against an army of tattooed men painted green with huge beards. One can only imagine the casting call for that scene; System Of A Down impersonators need only apply.
The supporting rest of this crack team draw their names straight from the pages of myth too, their names and defining weaponry reading like a Fire Emblem roster even on Wikipedia: A knife wielding thief in Rufus Sewell's Autolycus; a wisecracking spear fighter with a sideline as a prophet of his own certain doom, and arguably the outfit's Jeigan/Oifey in Ian McShane's Amphiaraus; a female archer (arguably Sniper), complete with the dreadful and moulded breastplate from Ingrid Bolsø Berdal's Atalanta; Askel Hennie's Tydeus, the silent axe-wielding berserker; Iolanus the Bard, played by Reece Ritchie... And of course, our eponymous hero, the Lord, complete with his own perfectly ranked Club. Sorry, I'm way off point here.
Hercules is haunted by the spectre of tragedy that he can't quite remember, that resulted in him being banished from Athens on pain of death. Snippets are revealed to us usually in dreams or in particular an extended flashback scene, normally heralded by the appearance of Cerberus, the subject of the 12th classic Labour. It isn't until the final battle that we find out the truth, but I won't spoil it as it's part of what little character development Johnson has to deal with, rather than being the brutal giant he is in fights. Speaking of fights, the one with the green beardy men happens about halfway through, which is a decent 'this is how all of our unique and interesting warriors fight' sequence, complete with a simply hilarious chariot attack. The aftermath of this particular battle is less than successful for the good guys, which results in what can only be described as a training montage, while John Hurt's Cotys looks around for more scenery to chew as if hamming was going out of fashion (like it ever will). The training scene does actually work because it's an entire army being trained rather than one man, and at least the thrilling action movie score isn't overwhelming. Each of the characters leads a specific class though, and once you see the men hold a shield wall you know it's time for the next battle, although I was left wondering just how many soldiers portrayed were actually real.
Moving towards the final act, the tables begin to turn. No scene is left unmarred by Cotys' dentures here, as the corruption in the Tracian government is finally revealed, and our heroes must make a stand... But not before Autolycus does a runner. Herc and the gang are imprisoned in a castle dungeon, and the turning point comes when Amphiaraus encourages Hercules to embrace his destiny and destroy the three-headed dog that has haunted him thus far. I doubt that seeing Johnson tear iron divots out of rock to loose his chains had to be faked in any way. Freed and armed once more, the reunited band take the fight upwards through the castle, knocking out countless faceless grunts along the way. Even Iolanus gets a kill here, enjoying victory over an arrogant foe. Having already simplistically touched on my favourite question, "what is a Nation", the final battle is pitched, marked by heroic sacrifice. They fight to liberate a people from a corrupt king, hell bent on establishing a huge empire backed by a uniformed army of faceless grunts and titled generals. Autolycus suddenly reappears in a convincing but ultimately unsurprising reveal, and conveniently, a bottomless pit appears and then returns to nowhere as an easy disposal method; victory is assured for our heroes. They are our protagonists, after all. Well... The ones who had spoken lines, that is. The credits are a stylish rendition in 3D of how the Labours against the Hydra, the Lion and the Erymanthian Boar (all of which we saw conquered alone at the start of the picture) were won by the team working together.
I'm not sure if there was any real, profound message behind this film. There probably isn't. It doesn't matter. Clear themes of family, brotherhood, only the bad guys torture anyone... Oh, and that you too can be a man mountain, but only if you shut yourself away and train for eight months. It plays on the fact that actually this Hercules is mortal, and the team dynamic allows the supporting cast to bounce off Johnson's hero, without anything seeming too stodgy or really, forced. There might not be any great zingers in the script, but it's... It's okay, you know! Functional without being too workmanlike. It may be big, but it isn't that clever, and really I think it scores a higher win because of it. If you actually had to think about a Hercules film seriously, it would more likely sink under its own weight. In fact, without its lead in The Rock, even this outing may have suffered, but his charisma carries through, just. There are times when the more senior cast members must have ruined takes with their audible sighing and eye rolling, but the sheer entertainment value of watching Johnson punch a hay cart into three screaming men armed with giant gutting hooks is not to be underestimated.
Like I said though, the fact it doesn't take itself too seriously is the saving grace. It's what's wrong with major franchises being translated onto screen. When people hold the subject matter as sacred it starts to get a bit intense (although not even I can forgive the whitewashing of Khan Noonien Singh), making sure every single element is represented (which can simply make a film too busy) and people start getting angry, and it tends to get in the way of actually making an enjoyable and entertaining film, God alone knows how Marvel seem to have cracked it (even if they had to change Bruce Banner) for their fiercely-loved properties. Maybe this will get a sequel? Maybe not. The door for such is left ajar at the end, but it works as a little standalone thing, a summer blockbuster all in one, as they adventure off into the ancient Greek sunset.
