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Oedipal Crises and Hysterical Neuroses in Arkham CityBatman: Arkham City Review 
Batman, for me, is a crazy person who did not get enough attention as a child, and, truly, it is hard to get attention when your parents are dead. I understand why he is the way he is. Right at the climax of his desire for his mother, the thing he desires the most and the function which is supposed to introduce him into the world of sanity are killed; and so his adjustment toward culture is a little impaired—and by impaired I mean he walks around wearing a cape and wastes his money on gadgets, only to, of course, let killers and robbers escape from prison after their capture, so they may kill and rob again. This is the paradox, the symptom of Batman: He does not finish the job because he enjoys the job, even if he scowls about it all the time, with his signature brood. This is, after all, what Joker has been telling him in all media all of a sudden: Batman needs him, for Batman is trapped in this sort of sexual, libidinal enjoyment involving being all angry, and fighting criminals, and pretending to not like what he does, that it is so difficult. He pretends it’s work, but it is actually sex, done to satisfy mommy, because what else would mommy love more than her little superhero saving the day in the dark…
In Arkham City, Bruce Wayne is captured as a political prisoner for speaking against the new super-prison, which is an enclosure within Gotham that houses all the former inmates of Arkham Asylum. The Joker is sick, and he injects Batman with his blood so that Batman will find a cure. Mayhem ensues. Arkham City, while rendered beautifully with characteristic darkness, in terms of lighting and atmosphere, is really quite dead and desolate, save for the occasional political prisoner predictably being abused, which you must predictably save, though the venues in which Batman goes to do his adventures are just as fulfilling to traverse as in the previous installment.
Most of the fun comes from using your gadgets to scare enemies into chaos and knocking them unconscious one by one while a supervillian complains about their incompetence over the PA system. It is especially entertaining when only a few is left and they have gone completely paranoid and crazy. Batman, of course, does not kill any of them. Instead, he knocks them all unconscious, with the fighting system which is fluid and complex, utilizing a variety of moves, techniques, and gadgets. It is enjoyable beating people up as it is picking them off from the rafters.
A lot of Batman rogues gallery favorites also make an appearance (Mr. Freeze, Two-Face, Poison Ivy, The Riddler, and you even get to play as Catwoman in a parallel storyline, if you pay to redeem some code or whatever; there are also about a dozen I have never even heard of), with my personal favorite, The Penguin, which, thankfully, is not rendered as some deformed Danny DeVito. Most of them appear through side-quests, which are so well formed that they are more like alternate main storylines, rather than mere extra distractions from the entire point.
The game is well crafted, which, in large part, means it is not overdone. There is a certain unity to it all, a certain attachment for the necessary parts which work well together, rather than for the frivolous entertainments of less refined video games. The gameplay is also much longer than the first installment, with substantial content to which one may return after finishing the main story.
My only complaint, really, is that the storyline could have been much more than this simple entanglement of schemes and twists. The previous installment inquired upon Batman’s psyche, but now it is just people stealing from each other and doing bad things. For me, the ultimate point of interest is not really how Batman beats people up, but why, exactly, he is so crazy, why he is so paradoxical and inefficient in the ways that matter, but efficient in the theatrics. For me what is interesting is not so much the story as it is, secretly, the story of how poor Bruce still loves Mommy.  
—P. Rafael Mercado

Oedipal Crises and Hysterical Neuroses in Arkham City
Batman: Arkham City Review 

Batman, for me, is a crazy person who did not get enough attention as a child, and, truly, it is hard to get attention when your parents are dead. I understand why he is the way he is. Right at the climax of his desire for his mother, the thing he desires the most and the function which is supposed to introduce him into the world of sanity are killed; and so his adjustment toward culture is a little impaired—and by impaired I mean he walks around wearing a cape and wastes his money on gadgets, only to, of course, let killers and robbers escape from prison after their capture, so they may kill and rob again. This is the paradox, the symptom of Batman: He does not finish the job because he enjoys the job, even if he scowls about it all the time, with his signature brood. This is, after all, what Joker has been telling him in all media all of a sudden: Batman needs him, for Batman is trapped in this sort of sexual, libidinal enjoyment involving being all angry, and fighting criminals, and pretending to not like what he does, that it is so difficult. He pretends it’s work, but it is actually sex, done to satisfy mommy, because what else would mommy love more than her little superhero saving the day in the dark…

In Arkham City, Bruce Wayne is captured as a political prisoner for speaking against the new super-prison, which is an enclosure within Gotham that houses all the former inmates of Arkham Asylum. The Joker is sick, and he injects Batman with his blood so that Batman will find a cure. Mayhem ensues. Arkham City, while rendered beautifully with characteristic darkness, in terms of lighting and atmosphere, is really quite dead and desolate, save for the occasional political prisoner predictably being abused, which you must predictably save, though the venues in which Batman goes to do his adventures are just as fulfilling to traverse as in the previous installment.

Most of the fun comes from using your gadgets to scare enemies into chaos and knocking them unconscious one by one while a supervillian complains about their incompetence over the PA system. It is especially entertaining when only a few is left and they have gone completely paranoid and crazy. Batman, of course, does not kill any of them. Instead, he knocks them all unconscious, with the fighting system which is fluid and complex, utilizing a variety of moves, techniques, and gadgets. It is enjoyable beating people up as it is picking them off from the rafters.

A lot of Batman rogues gallery favorites also make an appearance (Mr. Freeze, Two-Face, Poison Ivy, The Riddler, and you even get to play as Catwoman in a parallel storyline, if you pay to redeem some code or whatever; there are also about a dozen I have never even heard of), with my personal favorite, The Penguin, which, thankfully, is not rendered as some deformed Danny DeVito. Most of them appear through side-quests, which are so well formed that they are more like alternate main storylines, rather than mere extra distractions from the entire point.

The game is well crafted, which, in large part, means it is not overdone. There is a certain unity to it all, a certain attachment for the necessary parts which work well together, rather than for the frivolous entertainments of less refined video games. The gameplay is also much longer than the first installment, with substantial content to which one may return after finishing the main story.

My only complaint, really, is that the storyline could have been much more than this simple entanglement of schemes and twists. The previous installment inquired upon Batman’s psyche, but now it is just people stealing from each other and doing bad things. For me, the ultimate point of interest is not really how Batman beats people up, but why, exactly, he is so crazy, why he is so paradoxical and inefficient in the ways that matter, but efficient in the theatrics. For me what is interesting is not so much the story as it is, secretly, the story of how poor Bruce still loves Mommy.  

P. Rafael Mercado

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Crimes Committed Backwards
Video Games and Teleology

I finished Ghost Trick a few days back, and I realized that for a story about a ghost trying to find his identity involving national intrigue, betrayal, deadly Rube Glodbergs, and so forth, it could have only occurred in what Leibniz famously called “the best of all possible worlds.” This is to say, there would have be a god in this particular universe and it would have to be a god so good that is it vulgar. For the coincidences within the story to have taken place, there should have been a clear final cause in the mind of this crazy demiurge, from which the events of the game would have been traced backward until the game’s beginning wherein all the conditions would have been entirely perfect, such that no door that leads to the end will be locked, no stray bullet will cancel all efforts, and so on.

It is actually for this precise reason that all video games are inevitably utopian and most occur backwards; this is to say, the divine hand which guides the almost-impossible events of the video game could be seen as the reversing of a video of a complicated maneuver: Consider a video of a round bullet which enters the barrel of a gun. How was this almost-impossible act done? Simple: It was the gun which shot the bullet, but it was played out backwards, in reverse.

This is precisely the reason why Grand Theft Auto IV, more than in its Imaginary dimension of representation—of storyline, characters, etc.—is subversive in the Symbolic dimension in that the existents within the game possess attributes of their own whose interaction is not strictly governed by teleological processes, such that each event or mission may be handled in a variety of ways. There is a goal, but the elements of the game do not point to it directly. It is up to the agency of the player to find a way to use the autonomous elements such that the goal is met. In this precise sense, Grand Theft Auto IV is anti-teleological. This makes it easy to conceive why it may be charged with nihilism. There is no final cause. Even if the plot of the game ends, the world will continue to persist precisely because there is no “ending” to which its elements merely needed to reach, and upon its consummation its reason to exist will be nullified.

Consider, for example, in Ghost Trick when the playable character, who, as a spirit, may jump from item to item to reach a certain destination, spots a tea pot on the floor, thus allowing him to make out a path toward the basement of the building, we can see very clearly that this tea pot was placed there authoritatively by the game’s authors so that the video game’s goals may be met. This is to say, the placing of the tea pot was teleological. It is as if, as with the example with the gun, the end, the final cause, was first thought out and that the rest was designed backwards.

We know that in reality, it does not occur this way. There is no “final cause.” What seems to be a smooth chain of cause and effect is actually retrospective meaning-making. The universe is fundamentally absurd, and what we make out to be meaningful results are actually contingent accidents. Evolution, for example, is thought to be teleological. Upon closer inspection, however, we can see that the very mechanism of evolution—natural selection—depends upon millions if not billions of years of accidents which, in its clumsiness, will eventually be enough to instill another fundamental error which will allow further accidents to take place. Is this precisely why we still have a tail bone, though none of us have tails? Its exclusion is not the deliberation of an intelligent mind or mystical cause. It was the result of a beneficial accident.

The Imaginary chaos of the Grand Theft Auto series, therefore, is supplemented by a far greater disorder beneath this Imaginary, a Symbolic chaos which makes it truly subversive. Its elements do not cohere into an organic whole. Perhaps this is how the series should be read: Rather than a commentary on contemporary capitalist society, or on the profound absurdity of violence, perhaps it speaks of a fundamental nihilism where, as Sartre put it, humanity is condemned to its freedom precisely because there is no final meaning. It is precisely when you strive to be nothing that you finally realize you can do anything. 

Sunday, January 2, 2011
Friday, December 31, 2010 Thursday, December 23, 2010