Professor Zoom killed the Flash's wife by ramming his vibrating hand through her brain. This amazing moment from the Silver Age of comics is at the center of one of my favorite storylines. It's the culmination of Zoom's obsession over Barry Allen,
the Flash. Zoom (AKA The Reverse Flash) is so consumed with replacing Allen (both as hero and husband) that when his plans falter, he seemingly murders the one person that kept the fastest man alive grounded.
the Flash. Zoom (AKA The Reverse Flash) is so consumed with replacing Allen (both as hero and husband) that when his plans falter, he seemingly murders the one person that kept the fastest man alive grounded.
As you might imagine, Iris' apparent death really screwed with Allen's life and had a major impact in how he carried on as the Flash. I cared about Iris Allen, because the Flash needed her to stay sane. The Flash could race around the world, stopping the evil machinations of Gorilla Grodd and other villains, but it was clear that who he was as a hero was tied to who he was as a man.
It took movies a long, long time to understand the connection between costumed heroes and their alter-egos. Like great comic books, these films (The Dark Knight, X2, Iron Man) use their settings and characters to examine the human condition. The Dark Knight asks how far we will bend our morality to fight terrorism. Iron Man is essentially about a spiritual awakening for a narcissist.
Video games, sadly, are way behind the curve. And even though there have been some stellar comic-inspired games such as Batman: Arkham Asylum and Infamous, they still fail to capture the key elements that give superheroes value. What's earned these games acclaim isn't their ability to emulate the best things about comic books, but in smart gameplay design choices and rock-solid presentation. It nails the gadgets, the gravelly voice, and the moodiness of Batman, but Arkham Asylum comes up short in bringing us the elements that make Batman comic books matter to us culturally.
Superhero comics primarily focus on the duality of their characters. Spider-Man is both shy Peter Parker and extrovert Spider-Man. The best Dark Knight books question if Batman is the mask Bruce Wayne wears or if Bruce Wayne is the mask The Batman wears. Superman is about an alien trying to force himself into a human identity, to feel and experience the troubles of the common man.
Comics, at their core, show us our own duality -- who we are and who we aspire to be. That's not to say we all dream of being the hero or saving the day, but there is a natural human contradiction in our desire to be both special and included . That's a superhero, isn't it? Superman is perhaps the most powerful person on the planet, a paragon of our capacity for courage and compassion, but that uniqueness, that individualism makes him an outsider. Wolverine is the best there is at what he does, but he's a loner searching for a family that will accept his animal nature.
That superheorism comes at a cost. The good of the world (or universe) matters far more than a hero's personal happiness. (Villains, by the way, can easily be defined as those that place their personal desires over that of the world.) Heroes are made legends through sacrifice. What have they given up to protect the populace? It's what makes these characters relatable, because every person has had to sacrifice a part of themselves for others to some degree.
And as we know, superheroes are vulnerable. It may be something physical, but more often it's a hero's ties to her private life that can hurt most. Batman's greatest failure was his inability to prevent Jason Todd, the second Robin, from being murdered by the Joker. What makes that so powerful is that Bruce Wayne feels in some way that his father failed him in that unspoken promise of all parents -- to always be there for their children. And as a father, Bruce Wayne failed his son, too.
Ultimately, comic books are about melodrama. The stories are extreme examples of human failings and triumphs. Big risks, big losses, and an overabundance of tragedy. Robert Kirkman's Invincible discovers his destiny is to subjugate the world he loves. Refusing that birthright puts him in direct conflict with his idol, his superheroic father. Talk about effed up.
Does this stuff sound like any superhero game you've ever played?
Sure, some have come close. Arkham Asylum forces Batman to face Crime Alley, where he witnessed his parents' murder and Infamous has a solid plot twist that adds a personal element to its storyline. These moments are good starts, but they don't go deep enough and don't do enough to match the strengths of a comic-book story. Developers and publishers like both licensed and original superhero games (They keep making 'em!), but it's hard to tell if they want to make one correctly.
Superhero games continually fail to recognize the power of the personal drama these characters face. The new MMO DC Universe Online enables you to create your own hero so you can run around a world full of supers. While there's some good customization to create your own unique character, DCUO has no recognition of a superhero's alter-ego. You don't create your own unique history, have no ties to any regular folks, and exist in a world focused on beating the crap out of villains. It's fun, sure, but it misses a big part of the superhero mythos. Without having an alternate world to exist within, the heroes are shallow, known only for their look, silly name, and powers.
If games emulating comic books want to evolve, then they need to adopt more of a role-playing attitude. That doesn't mean things slow down or become turn-based. I mean role-playing in the more modern gaming sense -- choices that evolve out of your character's persona, legitimate connections with side characters, and a stronger emphasis on telling a complete story. Part of that requires better use of villains in games.
I'd imagine a video game version of my beloved Reverse Flash storyline would have Zoom's motives boiling down to wanting to kill the Flash. Most likely this would be done by raising an army of the Flash's worst enemies and making him go through a gauntlet fighting one at a time. Even if a game riffed on the original storyline, with Iris tragically caught in the middle, the unoriginal and repetitive gameplay mechanics would sap away the emotional weight behind these events. What if a game could make you really feel like the Flash? What if Iris mattered to you in the way some of your companions in Mass Effect 2 can feel real and substantial?
I'm sure many developers would love to see this happen but couldn't even make the attempt. Superhero games often get trapped in old, generic conventions. I love Rocksteady's Batman: Arkham Asylum, but imagine a Batman game that played out more like Heavy Rain. Where you are a real detective, analyzing the scene, interrogating witnesses, dealing with your own personal demons, and throwing down with enemies.
Imagine a Batman game based on the "A Death in the Family" storyline, where the Joker killed Jason Todd. The early part of the story has Batman and Robin working together. You experience Robin's importance in the field and at home. Perhaps even so far as to have actually gameplay aspects built into having Robin by your side. Then, tragedy strikes and the person Batman is meant to protect is brutally murdered. The Dark Knight loses his ward, you lose a part of the gameplay that had helped you out in earlier parts of the game. The remainder of the game sees Batman on a personal crusade to hunt down the Joker. The catch -- he's rushing to find the Joker before the authorities so he can deliver whatever justice he feels appropriate. Failing to find the Joker first means failing the memory of Jason Todd. That's pretty powerful.
Batman: Arkham Asylum is a great step forward for comic-book games, but as a long-time Batman reader, it still doesn't get at the core of what makes Batman a great character. And the villains come off as caricatures, where the best Batman tales showcase them as people more victims of their own psychoses than calculating maniacs.
There are no easy solutions to the problems that face comic-book games. When it's a licensed game, publishers must deal with movie studios and/or the comic's publisher. Budgets and development time become issues too, since many licensed games have less time to cook in the oven. And most importantly, many publishers just don't take comic books seriously. It may take a new property, like an Infamous type of game, to push the boundaries and try something daring and new.
As a gamer, I enjoy a lot of these comic-inspired titles, but I've yet to play one that's given me the same feeling I get from a comic book. If movies can get it right, a game can do better. Now someone needs to prove it.
Source: IGN