Saturday 25 February 2012

Quick Time Moral Tales 4



Less of a campfire tale to delight and amuse, and more of a reckless tap-dance through a minefield this week, as I try to tackle the slightly controversial topic of women's depiction in video games. And let's be honest right from the start; it's quite sad, isn't it? Let's establish that right now. Apart from a few noteworthy examples, female characters are over-sexualized and passive or preternaturally bad-ass and extremely over-sexualized. Neither of which is good characterization in my book. 

(Oh really, Hjels? Mr. Never-been-published... Tell me more about characterization.)

A lot of bloggers have tackled this subject before, and probably quite a bit better than me, so instead of storming at it head on, I'll sneak around the outskirts, and focus this post around the thing that bothers me the most. Utility.  


Warning: Games spoiled in this blog post: Prince of Persia: The Warrior Within, Various Tomb Raider games, Mass Effect 1+2

The Quickest Way to a Woman's Heart

"The right tools for the right job." That's what my father taught me, when I was young. A mountain hiker wears sturdy, comfortable boots and layers of clothes to keep warm. A firefighter wears a helmet and clothes that don't catch fire even if it gets quite hot. A hockey goalie wears enough padding to not be killed by the small rubber missiles launched at him at 200 mph. These people all dress from utility. They dress so that they are equipped for the task they are faced with. With that in mind, could someone please tell me what task this young lady us dressed for? Take your time.

You back? Hey! Eyes up here, buddy!
That's right, that's Shahdee from Ubisoft's 2004 game Prince of Persia: The Warrior Within, and in my mind, a, if not the prime example of all that is wrong with women's depiction in video games. But instead of going into all the pandering atrocities this character consists of, let's get back to utility. What task is this woman equipped for?  It would have to be something indoors, seeing as she's hardly wearing anything at all. And given that the first time you meet her in the game, she's on the deck of a ship in a raging storm; I have an issue with this already.  She is obviously a warrior, so wearing some kind of armour is something I'd at least consider, but it doesn't look like she's... Oh no, wait, there is. I just couldn't see it without squinting. 

Now, I'm not going to claim to be any kind of armouring expert, but to a layman like me, it seems like the prime function of any kind of body armour would be to protect major organs, most of which are located in the human torso, something her metal bikini somewhat fails to do. Even the inside of her thigh, which houses one of the biggest arteries in the body, is completely exposed. And here we come to the heart of my problem.    

I cannot respect a character that is designed with a bigger emphasis on titillation than utility. Stylizing the character is one thing, and it can be done really well, but sadly, stylizing a female character these days just means giving them impossible proportions and breasts big enough to give the most adept yoga master back-pains for life.  I'm not even going to go further into the body design, because it's been discussed by smarter people than me before, and this little article isn't about that. But we should all be alarmed when even I, Hjels, a prototypical disgusting, hairy sweaty man who unabashedly enjoys ogling the many iterations of the female form, am embarrassed to talk about my hobby because it seems incapable of portraying women as anything but an object of desire for the male eye. 

Shahdee is the banner figure for a trend that if it continues, will prevent video games from ever growing up as an art form. But all is not hopeless. Occasionally, someone gets it right. And I will get to that in a moment, but first I'd like to discuss another character, one which you may disagree with me actually does a few things that should be applauded.



Namely, Lady Lara Croft. I completely understand if anyone with strong feminists sensibilities reading this just got a drop or two of their green tea down the wrong pipe just now, when I claimed that the prototype for the over-sexualized female character in gaming has any merit as an antithesis to what our friend Shahdee represents. Believe me when I say that I completely see that point of view. However, going back to the criteria I'm focusing on today, utility, Lara stands head and shoulders above most of her sisters. Some of the time. Well, at least, there is an effort involved.

She knows how to equip herself for any climate or environment. If she's exploring ancient Himalayan ruins in sub-arctic temperatures, she wears clothes that keep the cold out. If she's diving, she wears a wetsuit. If she's trudging through the tropics, she wears something breezy. Everything about the character does not work quite as well, though. She is clearly designed as eye candy to the player. In her first few outings she had an impossible large chest, which quickly became her key identifying attribute, which is a shame, seeing as she has a lot going for her. She is well educated, she is supremely competent and above all, she is driven. Not driven to find a man to protect her, but driven to seek out adventure. In recent games, ms. Croft has received a bit of a redesign, making her appear slightly closer to human, but she still has a lot of characteristics pandering to the lowest common denominator. But all in all, I'd say she is a step in the right direction. There is nothing wrong with an attractive character, as long as she has other redeeming features that ensure that she is not defined solely by her looks. I cannot respect a character like that. In the end, Lara doesn't quite get a pass. But a B for a manner of effort. 

Throughout recent gaming history, there have been a few really good female characters that don't cause the usual eye rolling I tend to experience when booting up a new game. Jade from Beyond Good and Evil, and Alyx Vance from Half life 2 are two examples that usually come up when this discussion arises. Me, I'd like to finish this article by going to one of favorite game universes, Mass Effect. The obvious place to go here would of course be the female version of the player controlled protagonist Shepard, otherwise known FemShep across the internet. Sure, FemShep is in many ways a good example of a strong female character, but there is one problem I have with putting her forth as the poster for the proper way to write a video game woman who you can respect. 

She was written as a man. 

The Mass Effect games give the player the option of customizing their Shepard character, down to appearance, back-story, personality and gender. But apart from the voice acting, which is stellar, there is nothing to give FemShep her own character traits to separate her from her male counterpart, because the character behaves the same way regardless of sex. This results in the character taking on a lot of masculine virtues and mannerisms, which isn't a bad thing, considering that Shepard is a supremely accomplished soldier with the fate of galaxy resting on her shoulders. But the mere fact that she is simply a female version of another character makes me want to look elsewhere. Like for example Dr. Liara T'Soni. Now I have to preface this part by saying that Liara is not technically a woman; she is an alien, from a species that... You know what, forget it. Liara is in every way a female character.



Now, what are the chief characteristics of Dr. T'Soni? When you meet her in the first Mass Effect game, she is working as an archeologist, specializing in the Prothean civilization, an extinct species which a strange relevance to Shepard's ongoing mission. Though she has achieved her doctorate at a young age, she comes across as somewhat naive and timid, and more or less remains so for the duration of the first Mass Effect game. She is a romancable option for the player character of Shepard, whether Shepard is male or female. It is in Mass Effect 2 that Liara really comes into her own, and more specifically the DLC called Lair of the Shadow Broker. When Shepard encounters Liara in the game, two years after the events of the first game, she has gone through some tough ordeals, which has led her to a career change. She is now working as an information broker, buying and selling information, one of the hottest commodities in the Mass Effect universe. It is immediately apparent that she has changed in a significant way. She nurtures an obsession. 

This may not seem like much, but to me, this is a truly refreshing bit of storytelling, because obsession is usually a character flaw seen 9 times out of 10 in male characters, very rarely in female ones. When Shepard asks Liara to come with him on his mission, she flatly refuses, and not until Shepard offers to help her accomplish her own goal does she agree to team up again. Utility. She doesn't drop everything that's important to her just because the handsome hero comes calling. She has her own agenda, one she even takes too far little while later. When Shepard gets knocked down in a fight with one of the villains, and said villain proceeds to flee, Liara gives chase, without even throwing a glance in Shepard's direction. Not a nice thing to do, but good characterization for a character like Liara and the place she is in emotionally. 

**Please note, I'm about to spoil the ending of Lair of the Shadow Broker**  

After a rip-roaring chase through a metropolitan skyline, and a brutal fight through the antagonist's hidden space station, Liara and Shepard find themselves face to face with the intimidating final boss. And it is Liara, not Shepard who takes charge. Shepard is along for the ride, and actually goes toe-to-toe with the boss at one point, but in the end, it is Liara who not only figures out how to defeat him, but also executes the plan. It is in every way her show, and she is the one who comes through in the end. And only after her enemies are conquered and his empire is now hers, does she let her shields drop, and you see that underneath, she still has all her insecurities and her doubts intact. She just doesn't succumb to them when the situation calls for her to hold it together. 

I'm pretty sure I lost my own direction at one point during the writing of this blog post, (I'll blame the fever I've been hallucinating my way through this past week for that) so let me return to the post's initial point. 

When creating a character, be they male or female; equip them for what they will be facing, physically and mentally. And if your character is going into a sword fight, for the love of God, put armour plating on them, no matter how tempting it is to show off her lovingly rendered cleavage. 

Because the quickest way to a woman's heart; it goes right through the rib cage, just like with the rest of us.    

Saturday 18 February 2012

ANOTHER slight delay.

Wow, that schedule I put up for my bi-weekly articles is really paying off, huh? I think I actually spend more time on this blog changing that, than actually writing or drawing. Anyhoo, this week's article will arrive during the weekend, probably sunday. It's a bit late, because it tackles a slightly controversial issue, and I'm a gentle soul who needs to concider every word I say on it.

To compensate you, my beloved reader, here is one of the characters from the infamous cancelled QTMC 5.

Thursday 2 February 2012

Quick Time Moral Tales 3


It was my intention this week to take you on a journey into the weird and wonderful world of Electronic Arts' Soviet Strike, and its batshit crazy final level, but contemporary events have made me reconsider. This week, something happened. Something that both humbled me, and made me re-evaluate my deeply entrenched, cynical view of humanity as a whole. So take my hand and come along, as I lead you instead into the bleak and terrifying world...

...of Dark Souls. 


Warning: Games spoiled in this blog post: Dark Souls (PS3)

The Stranger in the Dark

I'm bleeding. 

I don't want to look down, but I can feel my blood trickling out between my fingers, clutched as they are around what may be my bane wound. My back is rested awkwardly against the cold stone wall behind me, and the only sound I can hear is the swishing of the heavy metal blades swinging back and forth, suspended from the roof above. I've managed to make it past them, and even now, they continue their monotonous dance, deadly traps, taunting you, daring you to try to make it past them. They are in plain sight. They don't need to be hidden, because they are just as deadly either way. I've made it this far, but I've paid a heavy price for my progress. I am practically at Death's door, and every healing remedy I had has been spent sustaining me for my trudge through this hideous place, this Sen's Fortress. 

Sen's Fortress.

I'd curse you to Hell; if I was convinced you aren't actually a deep, festering circle of it. It's been a while since I've heard the hideous hissing of the snake-headed guards who protect you from intruders like me. It's been longer still since I saw the last of the bonfires, the only safe havens that exist in this awful place. I set out in search of another one, hoping that I'd find one in here, but so far I've found naught but pain and misery. And though I'd like to push forward, I'm not sure I have the strength to do so any longer. Maybe I'll just stay here and wait to expire, cold and unremembered, punishment for whatever unforgiveable sins have banished me to this place. It almost seems preferable to venturing further into the darkness ahead. I slump down further, and my eyes begin to close.

No sooner are they shut, then they open widely in terror. I look around, my heart suddenly pumping three times as hard, and my senses alert to pick up the slightest sight, sound or smell. 

My world has been invaded. Another filthy wretch, much like me, probably driven to madness or desperation by the things he's seen and done, has forced his way into this world, with the intention of taking from me what little I have, to further his own futile attempts at making his way through this maze, to find the next bonfire, or even the promised land of Anor Londo, said to lie somewhere beyond this dreary ruin. It's happened before, and the bastards always get what they came for. They are always better equipped, better prepared or more skilled than I am. Why would this time be any different? Maybe I should just surrender, let him have what he came for, and allow him to end my misery without a fight. 

My eyes dart back and forth frantically. I have no idea where he'll be coming from, but I know he's headed this way. And then he appears. A solitary knight comes into view, an angry red hue outlining his silhouette across the bridge, as he disappears and re-appears behind the swinging blades between us. He starts walking towards me, with heavy, slow and yet deadly determined steps. This bastard is out for blood, and even the minute amount that I have left will sate his thirst. 

A grim determination comes over me. If I'm going down to this invader, I'm going down swinging. With fresh strength, I stumble to my feet and raise my giant shield in front of me. It covers me from the bridge of my nose to the bottom of my calves, but it won't do me much good once I'm too exhausted to lift it, which will probably be his tactic; he will throw blow after blow at my shield, until my arm gets too tired to hold it, and then he will murder me to death. As I look around for anything in the area that can possibly turn this encounter in my favour, I suddenly realize that he will have to pass through the blades. Not too difficult in itself. All he has to do is wait for it to pass, and then shimmy past it before it comes back again. But an armed and angry opponent on the other side might make this more challenging than he had hoped for. I stop a yard in front of the final blade, and I wait. 

He doesn't look like he's in much of a hurry, as he saunters past the first blade, and then the second and third. Only one left between us now. He stops in front of it, and just looks at me, and all I can do is imagine the evil, smug look in his eyes underneath his helmet. Slowly, he lifts his hand and my entire body tenses up, every muscle straining to make use of the little strength I have left.

He's waving at me...

Why is he waving at me?! 

This man is sicker than I could have imagined. Not content with coming into my world to kill me, he actually means to taunt me first. Does his cruelty know no boundaries? That's it! Just for that, I'm taking him to hell with me. As the blade between us once again swings by, he closes the final gap between us, and slips past it. Just as he stops in front of me again, I muster all my strength into my legs, and I kick him full on in the stomach, making him stumble and take a step backwards, just as the blade returns. I let out a roar of triumph as the invader gets struck, and falls off the bridge in a spray of blood. 

I did it! I can't believe I did it! I killed him.

As I rest my hands on my knees to catch my breath however, I get a glimpse of something moving down in the darkness below. Sweet, merciful God, he is not dead! He survived the both the blade and the fall, and now's he's coming for me again. There is nothing for it now. I have to move; try to somehow find the next bonfire before he gets his revenge. Panic is gripping at me as I rush up the stairs leading deeper into the fortress. I'm running as fast as my legs will carry me, all caution thrown to the wind. All that matters now is speed and luck.

Naturally, my luck runs out about 2 seconds later, when I'm suddenly staring down the hallway at yet another damn snake guard. I hate these abominations with every fiber of my being. What evil could have spawned this horror, with the body of a man, and the head of a snake? I run at him with my mightiest battle cry echoing down the dead halls and hallways of Sen's Fortress, and I shove my gigantic halberd right through the monster's chest, and I gag at the sickly, terrifying gurgle he makes as he falls over dead. As I pull my weapon from his carcass however, I realize the fight wasn't won as smoothly as I thought. I drop to my knees as a fresh wound in my side, in the shape of the serrated edge of my slain opponent's sword, seeps another stream of what little blood is left in my body onto the ground in front of me. 

This is the end. 

There is no going further from here. This is where I die, and leave only a simple bloodstain behind. I can hear footsteps behind me. The invader has caught up with me already. It takes a few agonizing moments before he comes into view again, and walks casually into the room, not stopping until he is hovering menacingly above me. And then he just stands there, looking at me, like a serial killer, basking in the fear and embarrassment of his victim, before he sticks the knife in. 

But the knife doesn't come. We simply look at each other for an eternity, before he suddenly does something that surprises down to the very core of my being. He holds out his hand to me. It takes me a moment for me to realize that he's actually offering to help me to my feet. Another small eternity passes before I dare to accept it, and with a firm yet careful jerk, he pulls me to my feet. We stand across from each other, and I am at a complete loss. What is this silent invader after?

Instead of running me through with the giant, intimidating sword he rests on his shoulder, he sets his feet apart, and bows his head deeply. Even though I'm still expecting to be cut down at any moment, I return the greeting. I don't want to be rude, after all. At least he has the decency to show me some respect before he kills me. I take some comfort in knowing that this man probably won't zip down his fly and relieve himself over my freshly deceased body once he's done his business. I adjust my posture and raise my shield again. I am ready to go. I am almost grateful that is appears that I shall be allowed to expire with a manner of dignity. 

Of course, the surprises keep on coming. Instead of landing his killing blow, my mysterious guest turns around and runs through the doorway ahead of me, while I, my confusion now complete, stay right where I am. About thirty seconds later, the invader returns, stops in the doorway, and patiently waves me over. At this point, I almost want to stop and explain to him that there is no need to lead me into any kind of trap or ambush. He already has me, dead to rights. All he has to do is end it. Still, he seems quite insistent that I follow him, so I choose to oblige, not sure what's going on. If this is some kind of deranged game he's playing.... 

So the two of us venture deeper into the fortress, him in front showing the way, and me a few paces behind, expecting an ambush around every corner. But he doesn't lead me into one. Instead, he stops and points, every time we get to a trap, every time we run across a snake guard, making sure I can either avoid them or get the drop on them. He never steps in to fight himself, but he makes sure I'm prepared to deal with them myself. With his help, I make it past boulders rolling down stairs; past pressure plates which if activated would have fired poisoned spikes at me, half a dozen snake guards and even a treasure chest that tried to eat my face. (True story.) I follow him closely, and I find myself slowly starting to trust him. Down another hallway, up a flight of stairs, and suddenly the bright clear sunlight assaults my eyes. The light is overpowering, and the relief is overwhelming. We've made it to the top of the fortress. I can even see the walls of Anor Londo towering above me. The invader waves me on, and I continue to follow, too shell shocked to do anything else. He stops in front of a small hole in the stone fence, and looks at me for a moment, before he jumps off. I run over to the edge, to see that there is actually a ledge underneath. 

And a bonfire! Safety at last! 

I jump over the edge, and just barely avoid falling off the ledge below. I don't dare touch the bonfire itself, as I notice that he is again standing there looking at me, and I imagine those predator eyes sinking into me again. If he is really cruel, this is when he does me in. Has he really taken all this time to take me by the hand and lead me through the nightmare that is Sen's Fortress, only to sink the blade in, when salvation is within reach?

A deep, respectful bow answers my question. Then he straightens up, and walks away. For several minutes, I stand, waiting for him to return, but he never does. Something tells me I've seen the last of this shady Samaritan, who though he stood to gain nothing from it, helped me through the dark hellhole, even after I'd kicked him off a bridge. I'll never know who you are or why you did what you did, but thank you for restoring a sliver of my dwindling faith in humanity

Praise the sun.