ParamountSome days, it looks as though original content is going the way of dinosaurs, frosted tips, and the DeLorean. When Universal Studios released the trailer Wednesday for Battleship, the film adaptation of the classic blind-luck board game, it was almost as if they had attached a note saying, “Yep, we’re officially out of ideas.” Raiding other entertainment genres for film ideas has become the industry standard, and when done right, the results can be fantastic (Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, X-2: X-Men United). But lately it seems like Hollywood has been scraping the bottom of the barrel looking for the next big thing to adapt to film: Remakes of All Quiet on the Western Front, Beauty and the Beast, and Snow White, along with rebootings of Spider-Man, Planet of the Apes, and Judge Dredd (really?) are all in the works. But what happens when every last viable comic book, children’s novel, and board game has been picked over?
"There's money in [movies], but it's not the kind of money we'd talk about releasing a successful game," says the co-founder of Irrational GamesVideo games would seem to be fertile ground to the hungry film executive hunting for the next audience to squeeze. The gaming industry posted record profits of $21.3 billion in 2008, and even though those numbers dropped to $18.58 billion in 2010 (mostly due to the lack of new gaming platforms like the Wii and PS3 to boost sales), a major title like last year’s Call of Duty: Black Ops, can still clock in $1 billion dollars in just six weeks.
But the track record for Hollywood video-game adaptations has been dismal. The two that appeared in theaters in 2010, Resident Evil: Afterlife and Prince of Persia: Sands of Time, earned just $51 and $90 million, respectively. Those numbers seem meager, but they still place them at the No. 6 and No. 2 highest grossing video game movies of all time. In fact, The Dark Knight alone, if you include its worldwide gross, singlehandedly beats out the top ten video game adaptations combined. On Rotten Tomatoes, the highest rated video game movies are Final Fantasy, Prince of Persia and Mortal Kombat, which scored 43 percent, 36 percent, and 36 percent, respectively.
It seems surprising: On their faces, video games seem comparable comic books, another former sub-culture that’s successfully secured a place in the mainstream and brought record profits to both publishers and movie studios. Video games, like comic books, have emerged from the convention center halls and basements to larger cultural recognition. This year, L.A. Noire, an interactive crime thriller developed by Grand Theft Auto creators Rockstar Games, became the first video game to be featured at the Tribeca Film Festival. Audiences were treated to an hour of gameplay footage on the big screen, followed by a panel discussion with the creators on advanced narrative and voice acting in video games. Many franchises also feature successful novelizations tie-ins. The Fall of Reach, a prequel to the Halo series written by sci-fi novelist Eric Nylund, ended up selling over a million copies and the Smithsonian is currently running an exhibition on the art and visual design of video games
But the parallels with comics end there. Video games aren’t primarily narrative devices. As Joystiq Editor-in-Chief Chris Grant points out, the appeal of a successful franchise is rarely, if ever, based on its story. “One of the things that Hollywood forgets is that video games are mechanical,” he says. “They’re technological show pieces.” Grant likes to compare a good video game to a good car, a vast and complex assembly of parts that, in the best of cases, work together as a seamless experience for the user. It’s the game mechanics, and not the plots, that make a franchise like Call of Duty or Halo a success. “Modern Warfare 2, narratively, is a complete disaster,” he says. “It actually makes me upset that it did that well and the story is that inscrutable.” Comic books, on the other hand, are built on story, and though their narratives build to dizzying levels of complexity, they can be adapted almost straight off the page, frame-for-frame. Grant says that to attempt the same with a video game—to try and divorce story from game—would be “a gross overestimation of video game audiences’ appreciation for the narrative in the games that they play.”
Game narratives, even when successful and engaging, unfold over the course of at least eight to ten hours of play. Some feature “decision points” that take the story in a different direction, while others, like the hugely successful Grand Theft Auto, are “sandbox games” that allow the player to explore the world as they see fit. Pulling a cohesive script out of these games can require a feat of Herculean creativity. The best video-game movies, Grant says, aren’t based on games at all, but rather original stories that mimic gameplay mechanics. “Run Lola Run was built like a really great video game,” he says. “You’re trying to do something in 20 minutes, fail, reboot, and try again. That’s the whole structure of the movie. It’s super-fast, hyper graphic play space that feels like a video game, and you’re playing along with her as you go.”
The genre may seem cursed, but the truth may be that today’s game developers simply don’t need Hollywood’s help. Unlike Marvel, who now make the majority of their revenue from licensing their characters in the form of films and toys, video game publishers can make it on their primary product alone. Sales of Marvel comics have climbed steadily along with the growth of their films, which broke big with the first Spider-Man in 2002. In 2001, when Marvel had made only the X-Men movie, a critical success but by no means a commercial smash, the company’s domestic revenue totaled $141 million, with $100 million in toys and licensing and only $40 million in publishing. By 2008, the year before Marvel was bought by Disney for $4 billion, domestic profits had climbed to $442 million, with $328 million in licencing ($157 million of that in film production) and $111 million in publishing.
For some artists, a film adaptation of their work might seem like the pinnacle of commercial success, proof that their work spoke the universal language necessary to pierce the mainstream. Ken Levine, creative director and co-founder of Irrational Games, thinks otherwise. While comic book movies give publishing sales a boost, few, if any, audience members are going to walk out of a video-game movie and run to the nearest Best Buy to spend $300 on an Xbox 360 with all the trimmings. Irrational saw tremendous critical and commercial success with their first-person shooter, BioShock, which has sold more than 4 million units to date, but decided not to proceed with the proposed film treatment. “For us, movies are not a priority,” he said over the phone. “There’s money in it, but it’s not the kind of money we’d talk about releasing a successful game.” For Irrational, there’s more value in keeping their brand in-house and maintaining quality control. “Every title has to hit that quality bar, so we’re really nervous about going to an outside group and saying ‘Hey, don’t break our baby,’” he says.
It’s no surprise, then, that the games that have made it furthest along have been those with no narrative or even much of an active fan base. Currently in production under the supervision of the Transformers franchise producer Lorenzo di Bonaventura are Asteroids and Space Invaders, two arcade classics with about as much narrative as the nutrition chart on your cereal box. “There’s no reason you can’t go out and make an Asteroids movie, but it gains nothing from being an Asteroids movie except brand recognition,” Levine says. “But that’s certainly an approach. You’re not going to have an angry game developer calling you going ‘What are you doing to my narrative?’”
None of this is to say that there will never be good video-game movies. Gaming firm Ubisoft have recently opened their own film division with the intention of bringing their franchises to theaters while maintaining full control of the project. Game makers, Levine says, have a natural advantage when it comes to making movies, having already become versed in cinematic design in cut-scenes and non-interactive game sequences. “You’re making a CGI film, what Pixar or Dreamworks does, they’re exactly the same process,” he says. “We had to learn how to light scenes, we had to learn how to work with actors, we had to learn all that.”
Whether it comes from a game maker or a movie studio, the future of the video game adaptation genre may hinge on someone simply taking the time, effort and money to make a good one, something that draws both hardcore fans and their hesitant but ultimately pleasantly surprised friends. Until then, it simply may not be worth it for game makers to sell their franchises to Hollywood.
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