(Note: I wrote this some time ago, close to the film’s release and since then the worst aspect of this film, product placement, has been written about in great length and depth. You won’t struggle to find articles exploring the topic if you search for them.)
Jurassic World is an atrocious film. Qualified defences which rely on ignoring the ‘Jurassic’ title are insufficient for a movie as willfully loathsome as this, where almost every line in almost every scene is an agony to sit through. The film contrasts its thoughtless dialogue, plot, characters and even structure with shrewd, cynical calculation about what will sell toys and a level of product placement which will hopefully live in infamy. The only mild relief is the abysmal attention paid to the film itself at least undercuts it as a vehicle to sell things to its audience. In one early scene which cuts between a central character Claire holding a Starbucks coffee cup and an assistant drinking Coca-Cola, the assistant remarks that dinosaurs should not have corporate sponsors since it undermines their educational and entertainment value. The utter lack of self-awareness elsewhere in the film and the continued, awful product placement thereafter confirms this as a happy accident of bad film making (or rather bad marketing) rather than a subversion on the film’s part.
I have been aiming to write a review of the recent documentary series Napoleon on this blog for some time. It doesn’t fit with the otherwise PC game themed content but it’s a compelling documentary. I’m not terribly interested by its content (which is mostly military and political history), but it has an impressive ability to clearly argue a particular viewpoint about Napoleon and his empire. This is surprisingly rare among history documentaries, most of which stick as closely as possible to ‘the facts’ and are usually either boring or misleading as a result. They’re boring because they devolve into a string of dates without the focus an argument provides and often misleading because they bolster the misconception that historians are primarily concerned with ordering events rather than arguing about them, their consequences, their causes, their significance. The advantage of an argument, then, especially if it’s a controversial one is that it forces you as a writer to state a case, which is always more lively than reciting a list. Arguments are stimulating to write or to read (or in this case to watch) so it’s refreshing that Andrew Roberts, historian and presenter of Napoleon, clearly has such strong, positive opinions about the titular character.
This is all to say that I haven’t written that review, but I have come across a related and exceptionally good piece of writing which ties the paragraph above to videogames. The essay “How Thinking Like A Historian Can Help You Understand Games, From The Witcher 3 To Assassin’s Creed” by Robert Whittaker has just appeared on Rock, Paper, Shotgun and it’s a wonderful read. Whittaker beautifully illustrates how our interpretation of the past is in flux, how it change over time and most of all how the absolutes we read about so often when history is brought up in the context of videogames are utterly useless. Judging from the comments, people haven’t bothered to read the article and are instead arguing in the exact way the article warns against, which is a shame. Still, it’s an excellent piece that’s worth a read for anyone interested in history and videogames.
I’ve written already about how playing as Austria in Europa Universalis IV successfully addresses the recurring problem of the late game in strategy and grand strategy games. That is specifically the phase of the game where you have won and yet it goes on. In Civilization V, you might reach the year 1800, find you’re vastly ahead of the AI opponents and simultaneously realise it’ll take 100 more turns to finally finish that Conquest or Science victory. In Europa Universalis IV, you might beat France in a major war and realise that all it takes to gobble up the whole continent is a series of tedious, easy conflicts. In Total War games, where the objective is to conquer a quota of provinces, usually being merely half-way to this quota is enough to be larger and stronger than all your rivals. Rome: Total War is interested in solving this problem and while it’s not wholly successful, it does mitigate the tedium which suffuses so much of the late game in strategy and grand strategy. By dividing the game into two phases, one in which you expand for the glory of the Roman Republic and another which sets you against other Roman factions and the Senate itself in your quest to become emperor, Rome: Total War makes victory difficult. It forces you to recontextualise your conquests and think again about what territory is ‘safe.’ It forces you to zoom out from small-scale, distant wars to focus on a larger conflict. Rome: Total War’s late game challenges you, a phrase we can rarely use honestly about this phase in these games.
At its worst, Europa Universalis IV is a game of unchecked conquest. It shares a common problem with many grand strategy games, namely the fun struggle to survive and grow as a state is gradually replaced with a lengthy period of easy conquest and ‘cleaning up.’ EUIV’s timeline spans 400 years (1444-1821), but it’s rare for most players to ever get beyond 1650. By then you are the strongest: alliances can be broken with impunity, neighbours devoured and coalitions smashed. Without the challenge of the early and mid game, EUIV and other titles like it devolve into rote warring to expand your territories. Interesting decisions evaporate, and as long as you’re clever enough not to let a massive coalition form, you will be unchallenged. Playing as Austria is the antidote to those problems. It provides a unique, long-lasting challenge which is different from the experiences of other, more conventional states.
Browsing the internet hours after I finished Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs, I could’ve sworn I heard a pig snuffle in my room. Sure, it was a blind scraping against a wall that sounded eerily like the game’s effect, but it was enough to set me on edge and convince me that A Machine for Pigs is a great horror game.