Films and games: the media divide.

Greg Giddens explores the reasons why we suffer bad game and film adaptations.

I play squash with a friend of mine almost weekly, and during our game we talk about manly things like sports, guns, military operations, games, music and, of course, chicks. But at some point during our catch-up, one of us always mentions a soppy TV show like Glee or Gilmore Girls and how much we love it.

And we do love those shows, especially me, and I say that unashamed. Well, a little ashamed. Very, very ashamed. But I’m still cool. I’m still strong and manly, and I have a beard. It’s not like I’ve ever cried at an episode. Not in front of people, anyway. At least, not since that time. Not again. Never again.

I seem to have misplaced my point. Oh, here it is. If either of these shows released a videogame, I’d buy it, mainly because I’m an incredible tool, but secondly because I’m always up for supporting the things I enjoy, and if buying a game that is almost guaranteed to suck helps the show continue in any way, I’ll do it. And that’s my point, hidden under a layer of shame: so many of our beloved films and TV shows are subject to terrible videogame adaptations, and this is a trend that must come to an end – because although it’s an accepted issue at present, in the future it could damage the integrity of the source medium beyond repair through indirect slander, or damage the potential for its growth as a franchise.

Transubstantiation

What doesn’t help is how fundamentally different the two media are. Videogames are inherently interactive while films and TV are not. But each share common attributes – the requirement to entertain, the compulsion to be unique and bold, the option to share a narrative with their audience – and it’s these similarities which give the impression that the two media could swap intellectual properties. However, as we’ve all seen, either format’s adaptation of the other is of notoriously bad quality.

This is where each medium’s differences really play a part. Despite the shared attributes, they are often presented differently in the opposite medium. A film’s narrative, for example, tends to be much shorter than in videogames, which leads to an entirely different pacing and form of storytelling. In a videogame, the narrative requires interactivity, which breaks up the pace of its delivery and adds an entirely new dimension of experience for the audience. What is comes down to is that each medium’s fundamentals are too different from the other’s for the same experience offered by one to translate over to the other.

And that’s the key to solving this problem – overcoming the translation between mediums – and this solution is not unknown to everyone. One game in particular comes to mind that uses this solution: Spiderman: The Movie 2. What Spiderman 2 did that allowed for the game to shine from its own merits was simple: it strayed away from the film’s narrative. It had help with this, drawing elements from the Spiderman world in the comics as well as the films, but the method to overcome the adaptation issue is sound. A film or TV show that has enough depth in its design allows game developers to produce titles based in the same world, but which deliver a different story.

Good intentions

This doesn’t always go according the plan; just look at the Resident Evil films or Avatar: The Game for evidence of that. James Cameron created a massive world with a tremendous amount of depth and history. Ubisoft set about creating a game separate from the Avatar film to tell a different story and not spoil the films – so far so good. But despite the freedom on offer, Ubisoft failed to develop a good game within this magical world. To me that seems like a hard thing to do – how can you not come up with a good game when you have that much freedom in such an expansive world? I’m sure there are other factors involved – a lack of time and resources perhaps, or maybe even complacency because they know the film’s acclaim would grant them sales anyway – but whatever the real reasons behind its lack of quality, my point remains: this could have launched Avatar as a franchise, with funding coming from both the film and the game. It’s a missed opportunity, and it damages any future interactive property based on the film.

Games delivering separate narratives than their film or TV counterparts, and vice versa, are taking a step in the right direction. It works for adaptations of literature, so why not here? However, it’s not a magic fix. Creative thinking and smart design are still required to get the most out of the adaptations, but it’s a road well worth travelling, so as to expand the world for the fans and increase the reach of the franchise.

I would love to see some of my favourite shows and films give birth to games, and likewise for many games to inspire films and TV shows. I want to share my joy from experiencing these things with others who may not enjoy the original medium used to convey them. And maybe, just maybe, a good game based on The Gilmore Girls would stop my dad from taking the piss out of me all the time.

By Jennifer Allen

When it comes to games, I’m not convinced that there’s anything worse than a mediocre one. At least in the case of terrible games, there is something to rally against. Something that provokes strong emotion within the player, even if it is pure hatred. The mediocre game is invariably so dull and uninspiring that it’s immediately forgotten within a matter of days of playing it. Unfortunately, that’s the best praise you could possibly afford to Avatar.

James Cameron declared during development that the game wasn’t just based on the movie; that it was part of the whole experience of Avatar. I’ve not seen the film yet, but if this is anything to go by, I hope that’s not the case.

It doesn’t bode well, though, as the scenarios on offer in the game and film are all rather similar, bar a few subtle differences. In the game, for example, you don’t play Sam Worthington’s character; instead, you play a new recruit for RDA. Other than that, it all seems rather familiar, with the first mission involving tracking down the mole working for the Na’vi tribe and subsequently being given the choice to side with either them or the RDA forces.  It’s not strictly a bad thing for a game spin-off to follow its movie counterpart’s storyline, but it doesn’t exactly support Cameron’s somewhat dubious claim.

//About as fun as it sounds
Excluding the early decision of which side to take, everything is rather linear. If you take the Na’vi side, Avatar is a third-person melee-based action-adventure. If you take the RDA side it becomes a third-person shooter. Neither is enjoyable. Action takes place via a quest-based system. Run to one person who then tells you to run to another, or to acquire a certain number of an herb, and so on. It’s reasonable fun to start with, fun but as time progresses you come to realise that, well, this is it. That’s all there is to the game. It wouldn’t be so bad if the story were in any way compelling, but it’s not, instead opting for the shallow and underdeveloped route. Too often do you feel as if you’re just being sent from one end of a vast area to another, simply to drag out the length of the game.

The two different sides do offer some variety. In the case of the Na’vi, combat is predominantly up close and personal. This works to an extent, but sometimes it can get frustrating when faced with the likes of flamethrowers and shotgun-equipped troops, especially when you bear in mind the lack of a cover system. Fortunately Avatar never breaks its back to offer any substantial challenge, so that is a small comfort.

The RDA campaign turns Avatar into a third-person shooter, but one with the shocking omission of aim-assist, lock-on capabilities and any form of cover functionality. These are all fairly essential features in the modern shooting genre, so their absence makes this rather irritating. The lack of a cover mode is a problem regardless of which side you play, as it makes you extremely vulnerable to attack, and is the source of much frustration and frequent deaths. And that’s the only substantial difference between the two game types. In the end, you know the quests will settle back into a monotonous drone of ‘go here, get this and come back’.

//Role-playing basics
Basic RPG elements come into play with the completion of each quest, where there is experience to be gained. There’s no levelling up system exactly; instead, there’s just a pre-set path to take, offering new weapons, skills and improved armour. As much as the skills sound extremely useful, such as being able to unleash a Viperwolf at your enemies, apart from the heal skill I rarely found myself using them. They’re of little benefit in any situation.

The Risk-esque mini-game Conquest could have been a great future. Experience gained in the main game can be converted into units, which can in turn be used to aid your skill in the mini-game. Controlling areas in Conquest then offers experience points and upgrades, which can be used back in the main game. But yet again it’s underused and underdeveloped, as the unlocked skills are never vital. At best, it’s a much-needed distraction from the rest of the game.

And therein lies the problem with Avatar: it’s all just far too shallow. Much like a model, it’s frequently very beautiful (even more so if you can afford a 120 Hz HDTV to witness the 3D effects), but ultimately there’s nothing going on behind the attractive visage. The potential was there. A more complex upgrade system would have been fantastic, the two different campaigns could have provided two completely unique paths that felt more adventurous than simply running from A to B, and even an adequate cover system would have helped hugely. But instead we’re left with the same old film-licensed spin-off; a dull, trite and very forgettable third-person action adventure that will still inevitably shift more units than heaps of far better, but less prolific, titles.

3/10

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