Finding humor in games is generally like trying to search for some really blunt needle in a stack of crap—it’s pretty unpleasant usually barely worth the effort. Writing in games is generally horrendous, so trying to garner any amount of hilarity out of stilted scenes is about the best you can get.
Games like “Metal Gear Solid” usually play on traditional video game tropes in some ill-fated attempt to make you laugh. Sometimes it’s successful, like the never-ending ladder climb in the third entry that made me feel like director Hideo Kojima was simply toying with me. Other times, such as the “stare intently at big boobs” button in a cutscene I was more disturbed than tickled.
Part of the issue stems from trying to create any intelligible dialogue outside of cutscenes. Generally they are the only portions that remotely resemble traditional narrative writing besides conversational gameplay. They would allow creators to try and set up a scene that plays more toward the strengths of a directed scene. However, they usually use these portions to grab a fistful of exposition and shove it down your throat. It tastes like disappointment and anchovies.
One of the easiest ways for video game creators to try to create some humor is finding one central group of relatable, likable characters and build up their relationships. All the best sitcoms stick a common group of people together and you gradually watch them grow together through their self-destructive tendencies. Sitcoms can also take an incredible amount of time to gel and find the proper roles for each character. The lengthy nature of video games would seem to make them an incredibly viable platform for that sort of character development.
Creations like the “Uncharted” series or “Persona 4” are probably the gold standard for inciting humor in one continuous video game. “Gold standard” being used loosely of course, since these games still rely on violent beats that sometimes destroy the illusion of a band of merry friends just joshing around. However, the banter between the group’s characters feels far more realistic, witty and hits actual comedic beats unlike almost every other game.
The main difference between the gradual evolution of a sitcom’s characters and most those in video games is that the latter is generally released in one ten to fifty hour chunk as opposed to the slow understanding stemming from individual television episodes. The episodic model is starting to pick up a bit more steam in the video game industry nowadays.
“The Walking Dead” stands out as the prime example for how to create an episodic game, but the characters were fairly well defined from the beginning. In television for example, Troy on Community evolved from a jerk jock into a lovable pop culture dunce. That sort of complete transformation is rarely possible not only because few episodic games rely solely on humor. but also because their story arcs are pretty concrete even from the start. Minute changes simply aren’t as feasible.
Within the past year or so there has been a movement towards games that challenge players’ fundamental dexterity. “Octodad: Dadliest Catch” puts you in control of an octopus masquerading as a family’s father in a suit. You control each of your four individual limbs as you try to survive the day without alerting outsiders to your actual nature. The humor and challenge derives from the impossibility of performing mundane tasks like making coffee.
Recently “Goat Simulator” was also released and was perceived as more of a joke than actual product. However, the mere premise of controlling a goat in the ridiculous sandbox the developer created results in a series of hidden calamities throughout the world. Reviewers soured on both of these products, but I appreciate them both for trying to inject some humor in a way that’s exclusive to the medium. Relying on the basic mechanics of other mediums is sometimes counter-productive to the industry’s growth, in my opinion.
There are always the “Lego” games to fall back on if someone is looking for a few easy laughs, but the dearth of humor in video games is depressing. When it’s easier to laugh from trying to break a game than playing it, there’s a fundamental problem. I just played “X-Men Legends” again this weekend, and it’s rather telling that I chuckled more at the absolutely appalling textures in this 2004 game than any release in recent memory.
Has a recent game release cracked you up? Let Adam in on the joke at arparis@wisc.edu.
