Suppose I’m making a film about street racers. The film’s characters have a great appreciation of cars, so when they first see the fancy new car that just might enable the hero to win the race, there’s an establishing shot with a long, slow pan across the car while dramatic music plays. Later, there’s a scene of the villain in his fancy car which the audience is seeing for the first time. There’s again a slow pan and dramatic music, even though there aren’t any other characters around. This time, the scene is establishing what a badass the villain is - not to any other characters, but to the audience itself. The way the camera lingers over the car’s lines isn’t showing a character’s appreciation. It’s to allow the audience to experience their own appreciation.
Probably the people watching my street racing movie like fancy cars, so they will appreciate the scene with the villain’s car. But now suppose I make another movie about a small-town high school teacher rallying the community for a local cause. When I first show the teacher driving to work, I use the same cinematic tricks I did in the other film - slowly panning along the car while playing dramatic music. Then the teacher gets to the school, and the story moves on.
Someone who really likes cars may still enjoy this scene, but to most people it’s going to be distracting at best. The car isn’t important to the story at all - why is it receiving so much attention? Why would I assume that the audience of this completely different film would be into cars? If I keep doing this, with more and more films on various subjects all treating cars in this same way, people who don’t care about cars may start to get annoyed with my work. They might feel that I’m being exclusionary in my film-making, privileging part of the audience over the rest for no clear reason. Plenty of people aren’t obsessed with cars - why can’t they enjoy my low-budget monster movie or my railroad magnate biopic too? Why do I insist on shoving in these totally distracting segments that damage the experience for them?
The way things are right now, I still don’t have time to write the in-depth, fleshed-out articles I used to write. But I still have a lot of thoughts about video games, and most of them don’t really fit into 140 characters. So from time to time, I’m going to revisit this space with what’s on my mind.
Today I am thinking about superhero games. These, like film tie-ins, are so rarely done well that it’s actually noteworthy when they don’t suck.
Part of the problem might be that superhero games tend to confine themselves to the “third-person action game” format. Sometimes that works - GTA-like mechanics fit Spider-Man surprisingly well, and taking several pages from the book of Bioshock (switched, of course, to third-person) paid off well for Batman.
Still, this scheme puts severe limits on the types of gameplay available, and not every superhero fits well into those limits. If we branch out into other genres, however, things really open up, and there are plenty of superheroes just waiting to star in a good game. Here’s the ones I have in mind, and the games from which they should take their cues.
I’ve met a lot of Firefly fans. I’m one myself. Apart from enjoying the show, we all have one thing in common: we want there to be more Firefly fans. We want to share the show with others. We want more people to have the experience, to know how great it is, to laugh at the jokes and fall in love with the characters. We want more people to talk with about the show, who will know what we’re talking about and share our enthusiasm. We want more people to buy the DVDs, to cast an economic vote of “more like this!” so that maybe Joss’s next show won’t get screwed over.
It’s an inclusive fandom. We want there to be more of us. More Browncoats is better.
