In case you've just climbed out of a deep, dark concrete pit that you were thrown down because your violent rage was such that it endangered society –
MadWorld generated some controversy in between its announcement and release. Last August,
for example,
The Daily Mail quoted Mediawatch UK director, John Beyer, as being so horrified by its portrayal of chainsaw-based violence that he said, "I hope the British Board of Film Classification (BBFC) will view this with concern and decide it should not be granted a classification."
Mass media hysteria was the order of the day.
On the flipside,
the game's director, Shigenori Nishikawa, said, "I feel the type of violence you see in
Tom & Jerry is very close to the type of violence you see in
MadWorld."
Definitely some disparity going on there, eh? One of the questions we're left with is, 'Is the violence in
MadWorld anything we should actually get our frilly knickers in a twist about?'
For the record - I'm not going to get into whether
MadWorld belongs on the Wii or not. Personally, I'm quite happy for folk in a free market economy to buy appropriately age-rated games. The game's
UK Chart début suggests that they're not bothered, but that's not the point.
The fact is, I found the violence in
MadWorld to be thoroughly unaffecting.
My
review of it contained the sentence, “the black, white and red colour palette of the game, combined with its heavily comics-influenced art style, takes the edge off much of the violence.” The Evil Editor raised an eyebrow at that. It's still, comic book art style or not, a representation of violence, he said. He thought it was pretty horrible.
But, I argued, the art style makes the violence so far removed from our experience of real violence that it fails to connect with it.
But then I considered Charlie Brown.
It was time for a think.
If Schroeder wandered into Charlie Brown's house and bludgeoned him with a horse cock, I'm pretty sure I'd be horrified (not to mention more than a little mortified).
Peanuts is further visually removed from a real world representation of violence than the rugged black, white and red graphics of
MadWorld.
Then I thought about
Gears of War – another game with chainsaw action. That has plenty of blood sprayed across the landscape. It also has far more realistic graphics than the heavily-stylised
MadWorld. Again, it left me fairly unaffected.
Then I thought about
Maus, Art Spiegelman's graphic novel about the Holocaust which tells its story using mice – perhaps the most powerful portrayal of violence I've ever consumed.
Something was clearly wrong with my earlier theory.
Here's what it is... It's not the realism of violence portrayed in games, film, TV, comics or literature that gives it impact, it's the context – the conceptual structure surrounding it.
Charlie Brown getting his head staved in in
Peanuts would be horrifying because you've been made to care about the characters and accept them as, in their own way, real.
Derek (played by Edward Norton) in
American History X stomping a black criminal's head into the curb makes your skin crawl. In this case it's not because you care about the car thief, but because the tone of the film and the portrayal of events prompt you to accept its events as 'real'.
The horrors suffered by the characters of
Maus is disturbing because a) you've been drawn into caring about them and b) you know, from history lessons, that they represent very real events.
MadWorld and, in my experience, games in general, don't portray violence that is genuinely upsetting because the context they present it in is too far removed from reality.
In the case of
MadWorld, I daresay that I could have been in some way disturbed by the violence, despite its heavily stylised appearance, if it hadn't been so intentionally ridiculous. The whole set-up of
Running Man-style death sports played out as entertainment is self-consciously ridiculous.
The main character (whose name I've already forgotten, he's so generic) is a knowing pastiche of Schwarzenegger-style he-men. The bad guys are utterly throwaway cannon fodder with nothing to hint that they are 'real' people. The manner in which they meet various deaths is so over-the-top that it fails to engage you emotionally in any significant way. In short, there's nothing to make you sympathise or engage with any of the characters in there or their situation, so why should you care about the violence?
One way in which violence's representation can give it more impact is to give it a realistic appearance. In games, however, even this is usually undermined by the game's broader context. Characterisation is often (necessarily, for the sake of gameplay) thin. The scenario is usually far fetched at best. The story, the world and the characters are all just structures to hang gameplay on. You're not prompted to suspend disbelief and treat it as real in any meaningful way.
If all else fails to detach you from in-game violence, there's always the mechanics of death. In a world where you can constantly come back and start again, why should you care about death and, by extension, violence? You might argue that this constant resurrection cycle is not the case for enemies and supporting characters, but enemies are usually just endlessly re-used clones while supporting characters don't often get much screen time because that would get in the way of the game's point – playing.
So, for me and, I suspect, the majority of gamers, in-game violence is seldom repulsive because it (willingly) surrenders any genuine connection between what you see on screen and our experiences and perceptions of real violence.
Or maybe I'm just a product of 25 years-worth of amoral, bloody media consumption who's become completely desensitised to violence and should be chucked down that concrete-lined pit...