[part of what initially brought me to this site in late 2020 was that in early 2020, i had already begun trying to take writing a bit more seriously by writing condensed reviews of games that i had finished. low ambition, maybe, but it combined a hobby i was sinking back into again with the potential for experiential learning vis-a-vis a skill i valued and respected in others during a pandemic that locked me inside for some time. a lot of that writing i don't quite stand by, but some of it i do. figured i'd post at least one for archival purposes. this was june of 2020. with that, i think ill take a break from writing for the year! happy holidays, ty very much for the cool year everyone]
Years of playing Yakuza has conditioned me to forget that a particularly vicious baseball bat swing can cave an individual’s skull in, and that’s only the most optimistic scenario. Manhunt, bundle of cruel violence that it is, serves as a quaint little reminder of the frailty of the human physique pitted against blades, bullets, and all other manners of grievous bodily harm. It’s downright inventive in its murder at some points, and what sets it apart in its depiction of savagery 17 years later is terrific sound design rather than cutting edge visuals. Listen carefully as protagonist James Earl Cash, ‘freed’ from his execution at death row and forced to participate in illegally produced snuff films at the behest of a mysterious director, strains to choke the life out of a common enemy. The panting, the struggling, the movement of men at the edge of their mortal coil serving as a coda to life itself before a sharply accented note ends it all: the grisly snap of one’s neck. Add a soundtrack influenced by John Carpenter’s particular lineage of horror, dark visual designs, and a narrative ethos recalling 70’s film vigilantism and you have a recipe for controversy. It’s survival of the fittest against thugs, Nazis, the criminally insane, cops, and paramilitary forces – a conservative ideologue’s worst nightmare and sadistic wet dream given form.
Needless to say it is the context of violence that sets Manhunt apart from its peers at the time – so much so that the game incited a wave of moral panic and remains infamous to this day as an emblem of violence in video games. Here it is unapologetic, squeamish, laborious, and yet titillating for players, audiences, and directors alike. As the medium grapples with these questions yet again it became worthwhile to return to Manhunt – a game so dedicated to its emulation of illicit film that it’s presented as a DVD and adopts film grain, conventions of found footage, and visual artifacts to convey its gameplay and narrative. It is brutality incarnate in the era of digital art, which makes it especially funny that in the face of numerous worldwide bans, my home province of Ontario had to market it as a film in order to sell it. It’s also worth noting that the game sometimes has interesting subtext, the kind that makes violence purposeful and artful, which is a hilarious contrast to The Last of Us Part II. We’re a long ways away from the era where Rockstar almost had an internal mutiny over the development of this game.
Unfortunately, the most interesting questions Manhunt raises are tertiary as it is host to numerous design issues that plague the experience which only get worse as the game increasingly outstays its welcome. A heavier emphasis on trite, unengaging gunplay in the second half distracts from atmospheric stealth which already at its best was predatorial but at its worst, which was much of the time, suffers from downright terrible A.I, awful level design, and questionable balance which turns the game into a cheeky exploitation of systems rather than an immersive and cutthroat struggle. That this is lampshaded as a part of the game’s intent and craft feels insulting and cynical rather than genuine. Setpieces that are genuinely great are ignored in favour of bowing to video game convention of the era, and the mechanics that are illogical but thematically appropriate stop being resonant as a result. Toying with the conventions of ranking systems is welcome, but this only registers as worthwhile if the game is actually fun to play, which Manhunt often isn’t. I very often welcome games that aren’t traditionally fun, but I don’t believe it works here especially since Manhunt’s audience condemning metanarrative and its musings on society register as juvenile rather than meaningful and yield very little in the way of a compelling textual or visual experience. In our efforts to condemn voyeuristic violence we often forget that a better point to be made is in its intoxicating allure, or in its usage in institutions of power, or violence as a means of self-expression and liberation. Manhunt is perpetually disinterested in this to its own disservice.
Years of playing Yakuza has conditioned me to forget that a particularly vicious baseball bat swing can cave an individual’s skull in, and that’s only the most optimistic scenario. Manhunt, bundle of cruel violence that it is, serves as a quaint little reminder of the frailty of the human physique pitted against blades, bullets, and all other manners of grievous bodily harm. It’s downright inventive in its murder at some points, and what sets it apart in its depiction of savagery 17 years later is terrific sound design rather than cutting edge visuals. Listen carefully as protagonist James Earl Cash, ‘freed’ from his execution at death row and forced to participate in illegally produced snuff films at the behest of a mysterious director, strains to choke the life out of a common enemy. The panting, the struggling, the movement of men at the edge of their mortal coil serving as a coda to life itself before a sharply accented note ends it all: the grisly snap of one’s neck. Add a soundtrack influenced by John Carpenter’s particular lineage of horror, dark visual designs, and a narrative ethos recalling 70’s film vigilantism and you have a recipe for controversy. It’s survival of the fittest against thugs, Nazis, the criminally insane, cops, and paramilitary forces – a conservative ideologue’s worst nightmare and sadistic wet dream given form.
Needless to say it is the context of violence that sets Manhunt apart from its peers at the time – so much so that the game incited a wave of moral panic and remains infamous to this day as an emblem of violence in video games. Here it is unapologetic, squeamish, laborious, and yet titillating for players, audiences, and directors alike. As the medium grapples with these questions yet again it became worthwhile to return to Manhunt – a game so dedicated to its emulation of illicit film that it’s presented as a DVD and adopts film grain, conventions of found footage, and visual artifacts to convey its gameplay and narrative. It is brutality incarnate in the era of digital art, which makes it especially funny that in the face of numerous worldwide bans, my home province of Ontario had to market it as a film in order to sell it. It’s also worth noting that the game sometimes has interesting subtext, the kind that makes violence purposeful and artful, which is a hilarious contrast to The Last of Us Part II. We’re a long ways away from the era where Rockstar almost had an internal mutiny over the development of this game.
Unfortunately, the most interesting questions Manhunt raises are tertiary as it is host to numerous design issues that plague the experience which only get worse as the game increasingly outstays its welcome. A heavier emphasis on trite, unengaging gunplay in the second half distracts from atmospheric stealth which already at its best was predatorial but at its worst, which was much of the time, suffers from downright terrible A.I, awful level design, and questionable balance which turns the game into a cheeky exploitation of systems rather than an immersive and cutthroat struggle. That this is lampshaded as a part of the game’s intent and craft feels insulting and cynical rather than genuine. Setpieces that are genuinely great are ignored in favour of bowing to video game convention of the era, and the mechanics that are illogical but thematically appropriate stop being resonant as a result. Toying with the conventions of ranking systems is welcome, but this only registers as worthwhile if the game is actually fun to play, which Manhunt often isn’t. I very often welcome games that aren’t traditionally fun, but I don’t believe it works here especially since Manhunt’s audience condemning metanarrative and its musings on society register as juvenile rather than meaningful and yield very little in the way of a compelling textual or visual experience. In our efforts to condemn voyeuristic violence we often forget that a better point to be made is in its intoxicating allure, or in its usage in institutions of power, or violence as a means of self-expression and liberation. Manhunt is perpetually disinterested in this to its own disservice.
2 Comments
Exceptionally written review.
Vaudevillain
2 years ago