Brutality in Bioshock Infinite

Booker's very first kill is an astonishingly brutal one. Credit: Gameranx

Well, I recently finished Bioshock Infinite, probably one of the best games I've ever played. I enjoyed the game for many reasons, among them its commentary on violence and brutality, particularly in video games.

In the first two Bioshocks, every enemy the player faces (not the Little Sisters or Bioshock 2's still-sane inhabitants) is either a crazy, tortured drug addict, or some poor sucker bonded to a diving suit and reduced to subhuman intelligence. The weapons given to the player may inflict much pain and suffering, but the actual act of killing these enemies is quite justifiable - think of it as particularly merciless euthanization.

Bioshock Infinite also provides some put-them-out-of-their-misery enemies: the Firemen and Handymen seem to be in a great deal of pain at every passing moment. However, the vast majority of enemies are just schmucks from the Columbian army and police force, or ordinary citizens from the Vox Populi.

Living in a Fireman suit must be hell - Booker's probably
doing these guys a favour, at least. Credit: Bioshock Wiki

On the other hand, your enemies display little morality themselves; the police's first response upon your discovery is to attempt to saw your face open, and the Vox Populi's wanton destruction of Columbia reveals them to be morally lacking as well. Atlas pointed out in Bioshock 1 that Rapture isn't like the real world - barbaric violence is considered normal down there. Such is the case with Columbia - Booker and his enemies dish out violence as casually as characters in a Tarantino film.

Elizabeth at first questions Booker's actions. After an early melee with some Columbian police, Elizabeth is horrified at what Booker's done, having killed so many people. To the player, its a moment of complete surprise; they've likely been killing schmucks and not thinking twice about it. It's like the moment when your mother first realizes all the crap you've been doing in your M-rated game. Then, it's like your Mom sits down and plays that M-rated game when Elizabeth starts to procure turrets, weapons, and other offensive tools for Booker to use, (spoiler alert!) culminating in her (justified) murder of Daisy Fitzroy.

Elizabeth gets damn scary near the end of the game. Credit: Video Lithium

But then, Elizabeth comes full circle. Near the end of the game, Elizabeth asks Booker if he thinks there is any way they can possibly atone for their actions, having killed so many people. This was an interesting comment on a common trope in games: Practically speaking, it's often doubtful that the player character's end goal truly justified all their murder.

Of course, Elizabeth finds a method of redemption - one brutally efficient in and of itself. I'll talk a bit more about the ending in a later post, but it adds interesting fodder to a thought experiment someone else has no doubt conceived, but which has also occurred to me: if you torture someone and then erase their memories of it, were they ever tortured? If you cause death and destruction to the world, and then use dimension-bending powers to erase your actions from history, did they ever occur?

A reviewer once derided Infinite for attempting to criticize video game violence using video game violence, which is true enough, but the fact is, Infinite has some interesting things to say.

Deadly Creatures: An Exercise in Point of View

Look long and hard, little scorpion... They're HUMANS. Credit: 411Mania.com

Deadly Creatures for Wii is a stunningly original title that puts players in the alternating roles of a tarantula and a scorpion. The former is an adept assassin specialized for agility and long-distance strikes, whereas the latter is a straightforward brawler skilled at powerful attacks and brutal finishing moves. The two of them each go their own way through the desert, hunting for food and killing off rival predators.

Intertwined with their individual stories, however, is the quest of two men searching for gold (played exceptionally well by Dennis Hopper and Billy Bob Thornton). The arachnids have a truly unique perspective on this tale for two reasons.

Firstly, their tiny size allows them to see what the humans can't - an especially cool sequence has the player crawling through the bones of a dead prospector, even as the ground shudders from the men's shovels hitting the soil above.

I"m too busy dodging horned lizard claws to care about the parallel human storyline! Credit: Destructoid

Secondly, they are totally disinterested in what's happening. Tiny arachnid brains care little for human affairs; even as the two men come closer to their goal, the tarantula remains fixed on settling a score with a certain rattlesnake, and the scorpion continues to look for a way to the surface. It's an interesting deviation from the typical first- or third-person narration techniques, in which the narrator (or player) has some clear connection to the story at hand, or is at least interested enough to document it.

However, like all good stories with parallel plotlines, the characters' tales eventually intersect, leading to an epic conclusion. Why it's epic, however, is completely different for the humans and arachnids - and while the humans may dwell on these events for the rest of their lives, the arachnids dismiss them as momentary complications, and simply return to their savage, deadly world.