Maybe Batman needs a rest every once and a while...
It's been a very long time since the Arkham series of Batman games have been relevant, so I haven't really had the excuse to talk about them; but with the impending release of two new Batman games, one directly related to the series and another inspired by it, I feel it's time to talk about the little bits which made up the greatest Batman games of all time. Although this wasn't all that inspired this particular blog, for you see I came across something which made me critically think about a key feature that all Arkham games share in a new light. It was actually a article covering some details about one of those new games in fact, Gotham Knights, which will change up a great many staples one has come to expect from their Batman games. As the article put it, the game would be 'fixing a common criticism of the Arkham games' by setting it's gameplay over a series of days rather than across one hectic night, and that got me to thinking; is Arkham's pacing one of it's biggest problems?
First let me specify what I'm talking about; in every single one of the popular Arkham games all of the action of the game, from the tutorial through to the post game, takes place on the same night which in which the game started. Of course, the series does shift days with different entries (and even years for some games) but every event in the main story will occur in roughly the same six hour stretch, with some games even noting the progression of the narrative as being concurrent with the progression of night. The developers play this up too, by having the battle damage system on Batman's suit which I positively adore, wherein the further you go into the game the more the Batsuit gets scuffed up. The wear and tear of this one particularly crazy night for Batman is written all over his person and although the legend never becomes tired (how could he, he's Batman) the bruises, scratches, bulletholes, popping poisoned veins and just destroyed gauntlets, all convey that sense beautifully.
But when we actually compare this to the way Batman's antics usually go in his many depictions on TV, film and in the comics, this is actually rather stand-out. Batman isn't usually the one to go duke out with every-single one of his villains in a single night of pugilism. I mean it does happen sometimes, sure, but for every single game to take place on that premise it does stretch the idea a little thin now that I come to think about it. The idea of having to fight one's entire rogue's gallery simultaneously is a pretty momentous one, but when you're literally doing that every other week it certainly does make Batman look a little overpowered, which has never been the idea when it comes to the Caped Crusader. But then if this is the case, why do all the video games thusfar circle around this idea? Well there's a few reasons.
Firstly come the convenience of it all, as Rocksteady themselves voiced when making Arkham City (as I recall) they weren't making a Bruce Wayne game, they wanted to make a Batman game, and Batman famously only usually comes out at night. Thus if the game takes place in the same night then there's no logistical transition that the team needs to figure out. Then there's the fact that with gaming, and the ability for adventure games to be as long as they really need to be, the team have the time and space to fit in these several villain storylines without the story feeling stretched at all. In fact, for gaming audiences we usually defer to the ideal of 'the more the merrier', as it were. Finally, and most resoundingly, when every single event is concurrent and not broken up by the passing of the idea, it creates a pace and rhythm that rides out to the final beat of the game. Pacing is a huge tool when it comes to storytelling and learning how to master it can be the difference between a breakneck adventure and a chilled stroll across action set-peices.
In fact, I keep coming back to the idea of the 'Pace' as likely being the key reason behind this design choice, maybe not even consciously, but it's influence is there. When Batman starts his night, whether that be through rolling up to Arkham Asylum or being thrown into Arkham City, a rubber band is set into the ground. From that point forth, as he unravels the mystery of his environment and get's deeper into the various factions involved or enters the sights of yet another assassin, the elastic band gets stretched, and for every moment Batman is active that tension is wound back. Breaking that up at any moment, even through a quick cutscene which shows of Bruce doing his day-to-day so that the player can get back to the action, immediately let's that rubberband snap back and makes it so that the narrative has to build up that tension and pacing all the way from the beginning again. Turning away from that and doubling down on the chaos of the one night allows for the tension to build into a towering crescendo where Batman's ultimate duels feel as weighty as they should, because they've been appropriately built up.
On the flipside; Gotham Knights approach of turning the events to more of a day-by-day affair does a good job of evoking the episodic nature of Comic books and really make the player feel like they're setting into the everyday life of a hero. As the overall story literally frames itself with Batman's protegees rising up to take his mantle, this neatly fits that mould as we see Barbara Gordon, and the Robins fill that mammal-shaped hole. This also allows the developers to simulate the daily lives of the citizens of Gotham which is something that we have, inexplicably, never got out of a Batman game before. Arkham City took place in an entire chunk of the City turned into a prison, Arkham Origins was on the same night as a blizzard warning, encouraging citizens to stay indoors, and Arkham Knight took place at a time when the city was getting bombarded with threats from a lunatic in a scarecrow costume; I wouldn't want to poke my head out the front door either!
Now to be clear there is no single better way to tell a story between the approach of many different days and a single night, in fact the 'man on fire' style of storytelling generally isn't done too much anymore, as it was done to death a while back. I'd say that John Wick was probably the best recent iteration of "All the events happening within a breath of each other." I think that Gotham Knights approach does fit the game a lot better, given that our villain appears to be The Court of Owls; A mysterious cabal of Gotham elites who specialise on being in the shadows and behind other schemes. Treated right this could even be as climatic as the Arkham games, it's all just a matter of execution.
In conclusion, I don't think that the narrative design of the Arkham series is at all one of it's problems, like that article would suggest, but rather one of it's strengths. But as this upcoming new title isn't even an Arkham game, why it's hardly the end of the world if that game frames it's narrative a little differently. (I welcome the diversity) When it's all said and done I will undoubtedly miss the whole 'progressive suit damage' as the story goes on, as well as the way that the environments you traversed seemed to become more chaotic as everything falls apart, but it's not going to ruin my day or anything. I yet remain excited for Gotham Knights and reverent of the Arkham series that helped spawn it.
Showing posts with label Batman: Arkham Origins. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Batman: Arkham Origins. Show all posts
Monday, 21 September 2020
Saturday, 5 October 2019
'Joker' (otherwise known as my weak excuse to talk about this movie whilst pretending to talk about games)
I used to think my life was a tragedy. Now I realize, it's a comedy.
I know that I'm not a movie blog by any stretch of the imagination, but yesterday I went to watch Todd Phillips' 'Joker' and I just have to talk about it. Therefore I have devised this clever ruse of looking at Joaquin Phoenix's depiction of the eponymous character in comparison to those that have played him in games (and animation, I guess.) This way I don't break my one rule and I can get all cathartic about what was is possibly the darkest superhero-adjacent film that will ever release. (No spoilers for the movie. Although there will be spoilers for other Batman properties, so be warned.)
Firstly, this in no review but let me start by saying that I absolutely loved the film. In many subtle ways it side stepped my expectations and delivered upon the promise of being gripping and intense without succumbing to wanton acts of violence. Don't get me wrong, the violence is there and it is brutal, but the movie doesn't succumb to it like so many lesser storytellers would have. Arthur is also much more open to the audience then I was expecting. After watching some similar genre movies to prepare for this one (I was really excited) I came in with the assumption that Joaquin Phoenix would play some aloof mysterious figure who's inner workings are a mystery, (Thus safely ensuring that the audience can separate themselves from the character and be reassured that he could never be them.) but 'Joker' really bought us into the man and gave us a story of someone who, although not always sympathetic, always did ring with a sliver of authenticity. Perhaps that is the reason why I came away from the film with one word ingrained in my mind, although I'm yet to know if it describes the movie or Arthur himself, and that would be 'Haunting'. 'Joker' was truly a great movie and one of the only one's that I feel the urge to go and watch again. (Which means a lot coming from me.)
Now that I've got that out the way, let's delve into the meat of this blog. You see, one of the elements of the movie that I appreciated the most was the way in which Joaquin Phoenix leaned on no other interpretations of the Joker to deliver his own. Even though we saw a 'what would happen if we took the Joker and bought him into the real world' with Heath Ledger's portrayal, Todd Phillip's movie manages to take that concept even further and distinguish this Joker from his peers. Yet despite that, we can see recognizable snippets of the character that we know here and there to let us know that this movie isn't just wearing a Batman Skin. (Although I will say that the 'King of Comedy 2' comments that were being made do feel somewhat valid.)
With such a wonderfully complex character as the Joker, he can be bought into being with so many different approaches and still be fundamentally the same person, so it can be hard to establish a baseline for what the quintessential portrayal is. However, if we are being frank, there is one actor who has done more to shape the role than any other in his many years donning the makeup, and that is undoubtedly: Mark Hamill, so we will start with him.
The big complication would then be figuring out which version of Mark Hamill's Joker that we want to focus on, as he has run the gambit with the character too. Luckily, this is a gaming blog so I can cut through all that noise by just focusing on the one Joker video game appearance in the brilliant Arkham franchise.
Rocksteady very much put the Joker on centre stage for the entirety of the Arkham franchise, even for the ones in which the character wasn't even physically present. Therefore we get a good glimpse of who he is and what he wants. This incarnation borrows from the Joker in the Killing Joke and the original animated series (Both of which are also voiced by Hamill) in that he is obsessed with proving to Batman how they are linked. Besties, in his opinion. Although the first game just plays out as a typically convoluted Batman plot, later entries really dive into the duality between them and the similarities. The greatest indication of this comes in Arkham: Origins. (Even though that Joker was technically played by Troy Baker. He was pretty much doing an impersonating of Mark Hamill in every way so I'll link the two as one and the same.) The Joker tells Bruce straight up that they are like brothers because they were both born from the same chaos. "We only exist because of them!" This is a character that is defined through his relationship to the caped crusader and who shares a connection with him that transcends earthly bonds. (Literally, if Arkham Knight is anything to go by.)
Another important Joker, at least by my reasoning, would by the older incarnation that was played by Brent Spiner in the animated version of The Dark Knight Returns. This is a story that takes a look at the world of Gotham in a distant, though ever approaching, future in which most heroes and villains have retired and the streets have sunk back into despondency. Batman has had to give up his cowl after sustaining a severe back injury from Bane, and has spent the past few decades sinking into seclusion with Alfred. In response, The Joker has entered a hibernative state in which he has abandoned all of his scheming and appears to be a reborn, functioning member of society.
This story leans on my personal favourite interpretation of Gotham, that all the heroes and villains are facsimiles of Batman's own psyche and his struggle to seek purpose. (Or at least all the best characters are. Still don't know where The Electrocutioner fits into Bruce's psychological profile.) In this world it makes sense that his former arch nemesis would stop his spree of crimes because he no longer has anyone to work off of. However, once Bruce finds himself being drawn back into his old ways, injury and all, it isn't long before word reaches the Joker and he snaps back into action.
This version of Joker is very distinct from others in it's two-faced attitude. Rather than wearing the crown of chaos, Spiner's Joker seems a lot more cold, calculated and murderous. He goes so far as to convince the world that he is a man reborn before switching back into his persona so fast that you know it was an act all along. (Yes, the scene does show Joker becoming his old self again in a manner that appears like an involuntary reaction, but it's apparent, from the way he acts, that this is the moment that he had been waiting decades for.) This Joker kills with impunity just to drawn Batman in before purposefully killing himself in the knowledge that he will implicate the Dark Knight by doing so. The fact that the Joker made a major choice with a specific consequence in mind means that he is in a very different ballpark from versions of the character that actively opposes the very concept of rationality, such as Heath Ledger's Joker.
Christoper Nolan's Dark Knight opens with that iconic bank scene that lets us know exactly what sort of Joker we would be getting from the film. We see the Joker conduct a huge chaotic bank robbery that, slightly betraying the angle of chaos that usually follows this character, is a highly thought-out affair in which he steals his money whilst murdering everyone in his team that could possibly relate it all back to him. Heath Ledger's Joker exists in a beautiful dichotomy between random and organized; he exists to perpetuate disorder yet he undergoes elaborate plans to prove a point. What point is that exactly? "All it takes it one bad day." (Yes I realize that line is from The Killing Joke but it just goes to show you how similar these interpretations can be whilst being fundamentally distinct.)
Heath ledger ditches a lot of the more fanciful elements of the Joker and focuses heavily on the irreverence, all the while not forgetting to keep the character feeling homicidal and a little wild. (This version is far removed from the old Cesar Romero one.) This performance was memorable in how it reinforced with audiences the fact that the Joker could be scary, even terrifying. He was built to be a dark reflection on the society that bore him with no line he won't cross, all he wants to do is help everyone around him reach that place too. Batman, on the otherhand, works to prove that people aren't as fragile as he thinks. This debate of philosophy cuts into the core of who Joker is and what he represents and is part of the reason why people consider Heath Ledger's Joker to be the definitive interpretation.
Joaquin Phoenix's Joker almost appears to be the predecessor to that, whilst still being his own beast entirely. It's still the day after the movie hit the theatres, and I've only seen it once, so I'll have to wait until I can rewatch it a few times to really get a handle on the character (Which I fully intend to do) but immediately you can see the bones of the man that would become the terror of Gotham. As much as I want to I can't get into specifics, (the movie just came out) but I will say that this is story of a man trying to deal with everyone failing him, and I think it's a logical, if twisted, path for him to want to teach that to everyone else down the line. Not that we'll ever get a sequel, Joaquin Phoenix reportedly hates franchises. (This movie doesn't exactly need one, either, it stands strong on its own.)
I've always considered Joker to be one of the greatest villains in media and am pleasantly surprised to see that the character was able to sustain such a gripping story on his own. Much of who the character is has been historically intrinsic to his relationship with Batman and I was certainly impressed to find out that the character was tough enough to forgo those shackles (mostly) and still hold up vividly. I would say that I'm excited to see how this will effect other superhero movies, but I honestly think that it'll be a long time before we get anything even nearly this evocative in the Marvel/DC landscape. (If ever again.) Be that as it may, at least we got one fantastic movie and another iconic version of the Joker to fondly look back on after we see him butchered again by Jared Leto. (Oh god, he's going to be in Birds of Prey, isn't he?)
I know that I'm not a movie blog by any stretch of the imagination, but yesterday I went to watch Todd Phillips' 'Joker' and I just have to talk about it. Therefore I have devised this clever ruse of looking at Joaquin Phoenix's depiction of the eponymous character in comparison to those that have played him in games (and animation, I guess.) This way I don't break my one rule and I can get all cathartic about what was is possibly the darkest superhero-adjacent film that will ever release. (No spoilers for the movie. Although there will be spoilers for other Batman properties, so be warned.)
Firstly, this in no review but let me start by saying that I absolutely loved the film. In many subtle ways it side stepped my expectations and delivered upon the promise of being gripping and intense without succumbing to wanton acts of violence. Don't get me wrong, the violence is there and it is brutal, but the movie doesn't succumb to it like so many lesser storytellers would have. Arthur is also much more open to the audience then I was expecting. After watching some similar genre movies to prepare for this one (I was really excited) I came in with the assumption that Joaquin Phoenix would play some aloof mysterious figure who's inner workings are a mystery, (Thus safely ensuring that the audience can separate themselves from the character and be reassured that he could never be them.) but 'Joker' really bought us into the man and gave us a story of someone who, although not always sympathetic, always did ring with a sliver of authenticity. Perhaps that is the reason why I came away from the film with one word ingrained in my mind, although I'm yet to know if it describes the movie or Arthur himself, and that would be 'Haunting'. 'Joker' was truly a great movie and one of the only one's that I feel the urge to go and watch again. (Which means a lot coming from me.)
Now that I've got that out the way, let's delve into the meat of this blog. You see, one of the elements of the movie that I appreciated the most was the way in which Joaquin Phoenix leaned on no other interpretations of the Joker to deliver his own. Even though we saw a 'what would happen if we took the Joker and bought him into the real world' with Heath Ledger's portrayal, Todd Phillip's movie manages to take that concept even further and distinguish this Joker from his peers. Yet despite that, we can see recognizable snippets of the character that we know here and there to let us know that this movie isn't just wearing a Batman Skin. (Although I will say that the 'King of Comedy 2' comments that were being made do feel somewhat valid.)
With such a wonderfully complex character as the Joker, he can be bought into being with so many different approaches and still be fundamentally the same person, so it can be hard to establish a baseline for what the quintessential portrayal is. However, if we are being frank, there is one actor who has done more to shape the role than any other in his many years donning the makeup, and that is undoubtedly: Mark Hamill, so we will start with him.
The big complication would then be figuring out which version of Mark Hamill's Joker that we want to focus on, as he has run the gambit with the character too. Luckily, this is a gaming blog so I can cut through all that noise by just focusing on the one Joker video game appearance in the brilliant Arkham franchise.
Rocksteady very much put the Joker on centre stage for the entirety of the Arkham franchise, even for the ones in which the character wasn't even physically present. Therefore we get a good glimpse of who he is and what he wants. This incarnation borrows from the Joker in the Killing Joke and the original animated series (Both of which are also voiced by Hamill) in that he is obsessed with proving to Batman how they are linked. Besties, in his opinion. Although the first game just plays out as a typically convoluted Batman plot, later entries really dive into the duality between them and the similarities. The greatest indication of this comes in Arkham: Origins. (Even though that Joker was technically played by Troy Baker. He was pretty much doing an impersonating of Mark Hamill in every way so I'll link the two as one and the same.) The Joker tells Bruce straight up that they are like brothers because they were both born from the same chaos. "We only exist because of them!" This is a character that is defined through his relationship to the caped crusader and who shares a connection with him that transcends earthly bonds. (Literally, if Arkham Knight is anything to go by.)
Another important Joker, at least by my reasoning, would by the older incarnation that was played by Brent Spiner in the animated version of The Dark Knight Returns. This is a story that takes a look at the world of Gotham in a distant, though ever approaching, future in which most heroes and villains have retired and the streets have sunk back into despondency. Batman has had to give up his cowl after sustaining a severe back injury from Bane, and has spent the past few decades sinking into seclusion with Alfred. In response, The Joker has entered a hibernative state in which he has abandoned all of his scheming and appears to be a reborn, functioning member of society.
This story leans on my personal favourite interpretation of Gotham, that all the heroes and villains are facsimiles of Batman's own psyche and his struggle to seek purpose. (Or at least all the best characters are. Still don't know where The Electrocutioner fits into Bruce's psychological profile.) In this world it makes sense that his former arch nemesis would stop his spree of crimes because he no longer has anyone to work off of. However, once Bruce finds himself being drawn back into his old ways, injury and all, it isn't long before word reaches the Joker and he snaps back into action.
This version of Joker is very distinct from others in it's two-faced attitude. Rather than wearing the crown of chaos, Spiner's Joker seems a lot more cold, calculated and murderous. He goes so far as to convince the world that he is a man reborn before switching back into his persona so fast that you know it was an act all along. (Yes, the scene does show Joker becoming his old self again in a manner that appears like an involuntary reaction, but it's apparent, from the way he acts, that this is the moment that he had been waiting decades for.) This Joker kills with impunity just to drawn Batman in before purposefully killing himself in the knowledge that he will implicate the Dark Knight by doing so. The fact that the Joker made a major choice with a specific consequence in mind means that he is in a very different ballpark from versions of the character that actively opposes the very concept of rationality, such as Heath Ledger's Joker.
Christoper Nolan's Dark Knight opens with that iconic bank scene that lets us know exactly what sort of Joker we would be getting from the film. We see the Joker conduct a huge chaotic bank robbery that, slightly betraying the angle of chaos that usually follows this character, is a highly thought-out affair in which he steals his money whilst murdering everyone in his team that could possibly relate it all back to him. Heath Ledger's Joker exists in a beautiful dichotomy between random and organized; he exists to perpetuate disorder yet he undergoes elaborate plans to prove a point. What point is that exactly? "All it takes it one bad day." (Yes I realize that line is from The Killing Joke but it just goes to show you how similar these interpretations can be whilst being fundamentally distinct.)
Heath ledger ditches a lot of the more fanciful elements of the Joker and focuses heavily on the irreverence, all the while not forgetting to keep the character feeling homicidal and a little wild. (This version is far removed from the old Cesar Romero one.) This performance was memorable in how it reinforced with audiences the fact that the Joker could be scary, even terrifying. He was built to be a dark reflection on the society that bore him with no line he won't cross, all he wants to do is help everyone around him reach that place too. Batman, on the otherhand, works to prove that people aren't as fragile as he thinks. This debate of philosophy cuts into the core of who Joker is and what he represents and is part of the reason why people consider Heath Ledger's Joker to be the definitive interpretation.
Joaquin Phoenix's Joker almost appears to be the predecessor to that, whilst still being his own beast entirely. It's still the day after the movie hit the theatres, and I've only seen it once, so I'll have to wait until I can rewatch it a few times to really get a handle on the character (Which I fully intend to do) but immediately you can see the bones of the man that would become the terror of Gotham. As much as I want to I can't get into specifics, (the movie just came out) but I will say that this is story of a man trying to deal with everyone failing him, and I think it's a logical, if twisted, path for him to want to teach that to everyone else down the line. Not that we'll ever get a sequel, Joaquin Phoenix reportedly hates franchises. (This movie doesn't exactly need one, either, it stands strong on its own.)
I've always considered Joker to be one of the greatest villains in media and am pleasantly surprised to see that the character was able to sustain such a gripping story on his own. Much of who the character is has been historically intrinsic to his relationship with Batman and I was certainly impressed to find out that the character was tough enough to forgo those shackles (mostly) and still hold up vividly. I would say that I'm excited to see how this will effect other superhero movies, but I honestly think that it'll be a long time before we get anything even nearly this evocative in the Marvel/DC landscape. (If ever again.) Be that as it may, at least we got one fantastic movie and another iconic version of the Joker to fondly look back on after we see him butchered again by Jared Leto. (Oh god, he's going to be in Birds of Prey, isn't he?)
Monday, 22 July 2019
I guess they get tired too...
It's been a hard day's night.
Have you ever had that moment when you just can't stand to get up in the morning? When you wish that you could just hit the off button and come back tomorrow? I'm not just talking about feeling reluctant, I'm talking about feeling drained. Feeling fatigued. Of course you have, everyone has. It's a universal feeling that everyone can relate to, which is why it can be powerful tool in story telling. "What? Having the main character be tired?" Yes, indeed. How many fight scenes have you seen in movies where the hero dusts up with a room chock-full of bad guys and tears through them without breaking a sweat? Did you relate to him? Did you worry for his safety? Now think of that scene in episode 2 of Netflix's 'Daredevil' wherein Matt Murdock takes down that entire hallway of thugs. (A must-watch scene if you haven't!) Think about how tired he gets, how they tired they get, and how it looks like he barely takes that last one down. Did he look like he was getting hurt?
Pain and fatigue are inexorable elements of our everyday lives, (Or at least they are until those Transhumanists get their way.) and so when we see these feelings represented in our fiction it makes it easier to realise that fictional world in our minds. Storytellers must always nail the fundamentals of their worlds before they can establish any of the fantastical elements, no matter how wild and imaginative that world is. When the story fails to make you believe in the world, you don't feel the need to care about it's inhabitants. That is why something as simple as showing your focal character stop to take a breather can build a whole depth onto your story.
Video games have also had their hand in demonstrating fatigue through one of the longest running traits in gaming: Stamina bars. This is the bar that is usually present in the Hub and will drain as you get damaged; once it is depleted, you character falls down dead. or just defeated, depending on your game's rating. (I know I likely don't need to explain the basics of a health bar to you, but remember, I'm a narcissist. So I will anyway.) Health bars were born out of the need to solve one of the most universal questions of game design: What is the player's motivation? When high scores don't matter anymore and the game has no sports-like win/lose conditions, the last carrot that developers have to dangle over our heads is the most potent one of all: Our very lives! And so the most enduring and widespread system in gaming was born.
Over the years, as development technology has become more and more robust, game developers have found all different ways to demonstrate the remaining health of the player. Some games have even gone so far as to remove the health bar altogether. (The monsters!) One of my personal favourite methods is the way in which player's wellness can be linked to that character's animations. In some third person games, as your character becomes more poorly (That's British slang for 'infirm' by-the-by.) they'll start to show it in their stature and gait; meaning that they'll start slumping over and hobbling about. You'll notice this in games like Resident Evil 2, Tomb Raider (2013), Red Dead Redemption, Uncharted: Drakes Fortune, Max Payne 3, Final Fantasy 7, Yakuza, Assassins Creed, oh and every single modern third person action adventure game ever made. It is a little silly how these characters can usually be seen clutching their sides after being riddled with enough lead to make them float, but I guess that the characters need to look like they can shake off their injuries. If they were going around vomiting up blood it might start giving players pause.
Of course, that isn't the only alternative that Video game companies have come up with for representing the health bar. Afterall, how would first-person games pull it off, considering they are the games that started shedding traditional 'health bars' first? Well, Call of Duty started off something of a trend when they created the 'damage effects' that are now widespread in first-person games. This includes 'hit markers' (A small on screen indicator telling you from which direction you got hurt), blurred screen effects, and reddish overlays onto your vision. As your character is dragged ever closer to death your screen become more and more red until you die. This is supposed to represent an immersive way to display health without the use of ugly, HUD adorning, health bars. However, the side effect is that now players can recover from their injuries by merely waiting around and not being hit. You win some immersion and then you lose some.
Some games have very unique ways of showing of the players health that doesn't clutter up a HUD but is still built around the health bar formula. One of the most famous examples I can think of is the spine bar from Visceral's Dead Space. Dead Space was a horror game that was intent on integrating HUD elements into the world of the game, thus ensuring that players would never cut themselves off from the immersion by going into a menu. Inventory screens were handled through holographic projections emanating from the player's environment suit, ammo counts were shown through holographic displays on the guns themselves, and the health bar was prominently visible on the protagonist's back. One thing you instantly notice when you play Dead Space is the glowing blue tube up the players spine, and that is essentially your in-universe health bar which depletes as your take damage. Ingenious! Another game that tried a similar trick of integrating the HUD would be 1998's 'Trespasser'. A first-person Jurassic Park game that figured the best way to keep the audience aware of the main character's health was to feature a heart shaped tattoo on her left breast that would deplete with damage. Classy.
So far I've been following a very narrow subset of fatigue mechanics in how they pertain to gameplay, but there is another aspect to consider which is very important to crafting a memorable experience, how fatigue can relate to the story. I've already mentioned the way in which characters feel more real when they are pervious, but what I'm referring to here is more the way in which the character wears the strain of the adventure they've just been through. There's nothing quite as satisfying as seing your hero come through it all at the end of day covered in the bruises and scratches that represent the chaos that they just endured. A great example of this would be the Arkham games. (Which you might remember me mentioning a bit about not so long ago. Something about playing the demo for Arkham Asylum until it was seared into by subconscious.) We all know Batman. And we've all seen Batman roughed up; with the torn suit and the cuts and scratches. The Arkham took this one step further in that you lived through every bruise that Batman acquired throughout that night. That isn't to say that every counter you missed would result in a nasty welt a couple hours down the line, but rather that there were scripted encounters and sections which would result in 'wear and tear' for poor old Bruce Wayne. Moments like; the first air duct collapsing at the beginning of Arkham Asylum, deflecting Deathstroke's katana barrage at the end of his boss fight in Arkham Origins and surviving lungs full of potent fear toxin in Arkham Knight. All of these incidents left a 'scar' that last on your virtual avatar for the rest of the game; trophies of the battles that you fought.
Similar 'wear and tear' systems can be found in a few of the modern action adventure games of recent years. 2013's Tomb Raider had a system very similar to the Arkham games. As Lara travelled across Yamatai, she would go through scripted scenes in which she would go through some sort of trauma and come out with a fresh scratch. Yager Development's 'Spec Ops: The Line' had a more involved 'wear and tear' mechanic in which the protagonist would grow more and more haggard as the psychological toil of the player's actions began to weigh on him with increasing severity. And Lionhead's 'Fable 3' had a literal 'scarring system' wherein the Hero had the possibility of attaining a scar every time that they got defeated by an enemy. Some of those examples are more transformative to the narrative than others, but they all serve to reflect the mortality of their subjects.
Storytelling is a multifaceted beast that can be tackled in so many hundreds of ways. The grounding of characters is just one step on a long road to crafting a clear and cohesive narrative, but it can be an important one depending on the tale you are trying to tell. I'm willing to bet that at least one the examples I mentioned today went almost completely ignored by some gamers out there; but as Mister Plinkett likes to say "You might not have noticed it, but your brain did." Personally I'm a sucker for all these little details, just as I'm a sucker for the big 'showstopper' features. Maybe I'm a just a huge nerd who can't see the forest for the trees or maybe I'm subconsciously taking note of all these little things in hope that I can write my own story/game one day. Or maybe I just enjoy seeing something that I feel daily mirrored by the coolest characters in fiction: The need to take a break.
Have you ever had that moment when you just can't stand to get up in the morning? When you wish that you could just hit the off button and come back tomorrow? I'm not just talking about feeling reluctant, I'm talking about feeling drained. Feeling fatigued. Of course you have, everyone has. It's a universal feeling that everyone can relate to, which is why it can be powerful tool in story telling. "What? Having the main character be tired?" Yes, indeed. How many fight scenes have you seen in movies where the hero dusts up with a room chock-full of bad guys and tears through them without breaking a sweat? Did you relate to him? Did you worry for his safety? Now think of that scene in episode 2 of Netflix's 'Daredevil' wherein Matt Murdock takes down that entire hallway of thugs. (A must-watch scene if you haven't!) Think about how tired he gets, how they tired they get, and how it looks like he barely takes that last one down. Did he look like he was getting hurt?
Pain and fatigue are inexorable elements of our everyday lives, (Or at least they are until those Transhumanists get their way.) and so when we see these feelings represented in our fiction it makes it easier to realise that fictional world in our minds. Storytellers must always nail the fundamentals of their worlds before they can establish any of the fantastical elements, no matter how wild and imaginative that world is. When the story fails to make you believe in the world, you don't feel the need to care about it's inhabitants. That is why something as simple as showing your focal character stop to take a breather can build a whole depth onto your story.
Video games have also had their hand in demonstrating fatigue through one of the longest running traits in gaming: Stamina bars. This is the bar that is usually present in the Hub and will drain as you get damaged; once it is depleted, you character falls down dead. or just defeated, depending on your game's rating. (I know I likely don't need to explain the basics of a health bar to you, but remember, I'm a narcissist. So I will anyway.) Health bars were born out of the need to solve one of the most universal questions of game design: What is the player's motivation? When high scores don't matter anymore and the game has no sports-like win/lose conditions, the last carrot that developers have to dangle over our heads is the most potent one of all: Our very lives! And so the most enduring and widespread system in gaming was born.

Of course, that isn't the only alternative that Video game companies have come up with for representing the health bar. Afterall, how would first-person games pull it off, considering they are the games that started shedding traditional 'health bars' first? Well, Call of Duty started off something of a trend when they created the 'damage effects' that are now widespread in first-person games. This includes 'hit markers' (A small on screen indicator telling you from which direction you got hurt), blurred screen effects, and reddish overlays onto your vision. As your character is dragged ever closer to death your screen become more and more red until you die. This is supposed to represent an immersive way to display health without the use of ugly, HUD adorning, health bars. However, the side effect is that now players can recover from their injuries by merely waiting around and not being hit. You win some immersion and then you lose some.


Similar 'wear and tear' systems can be found in a few of the modern action adventure games of recent years. 2013's Tomb Raider had a system very similar to the Arkham games. As Lara travelled across Yamatai, she would go through scripted scenes in which she would go through some sort of trauma and come out with a fresh scratch. Yager Development's 'Spec Ops: The Line' had a more involved 'wear and tear' mechanic in which the protagonist would grow more and more haggard as the psychological toil of the player's actions began to weigh on him with increasing severity. And Lionhead's 'Fable 3' had a literal 'scarring system' wherein the Hero had the possibility of attaining a scar every time that they got defeated by an enemy. Some of those examples are more transformative to the narrative than others, but they all serve to reflect the mortality of their subjects.
Storytelling is a multifaceted beast that can be tackled in so many hundreds of ways. The grounding of characters is just one step on a long road to crafting a clear and cohesive narrative, but it can be an important one depending on the tale you are trying to tell. I'm willing to bet that at least one the examples I mentioned today went almost completely ignored by some gamers out there; but as Mister Plinkett likes to say "You might not have noticed it, but your brain did." Personally I'm a sucker for all these little details, just as I'm a sucker for the big 'showstopper' features. Maybe I'm a just a huge nerd who can't see the forest for the trees or maybe I'm subconsciously taking note of all these little things in hope that I can write my own story/game one day. Or maybe I just enjoy seeing something that I feel daily mirrored by the coolest characters in fiction: The need to take a break.
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