Sunday, February 10, 2013

Translating Videogames to Cinema - A Reading of Silent Hill


In a delightfully coincidental fashion, the filmic adaption of the Silent Hill videogame series screened on Channel 4 this Saturday just gone (9th Feb), as anyone still watching scheduled TV might have noticed! I’m not a huge fan of super-natural horror (largely because anything entailing demonic possession scares me silly) but given the timing I just couldn’t resist watching, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. My flatmates, less aware of the film as borrowing from across the game series, were not as impressed, finding the plot to be too detailed and the monsters too abstract. However this was exactly what I loved about the Silent Hill film; it took many aesthetic and structural elements from videogames in general. Concerning horror games in particular which commonly entail very original and abstract monstrous creations, the Silent Hill film wasn’t afraid to use creatures of difficult categorization which were ultimately bewildering and added to the unsettling nature of the film setting.

Interestingly but not too surprisingly, I found myself negotiating this film through the lens of a videogame, perceiving various settings and aspects of narrative structure in the film to share similarities with games using a ‘quest-narrative’ and open-map design. I’m tempted to elaborate further on my thoughts, so this post aims to discuss the less common occurrence of films being adapted from videogames, using Silent Hill as an example.

Removing any bias toward either medium, I think it’s fair to say that Films generally cause more hype, gain more attention and occupy a more favoured position in many societies than videogames do (note that I’m not concerned with comparing the profit generation of these mediums, which is likely to be another story). One way of supporting this claim is to consider the number of games that follow (or anticipate) the release of a film on which they are based, compared to that of influence moving in the other direction, a claim that Juul (2001) supports yet finds examples of by way of Mario Brothers and Tomb Raider. While this relationship may be in transition with the perceived cultural value of videogames steadily rising, the nature of block-buster films often being accompanied by a peripheral game adaption is arguably due to the size of mainstream film audiences being larger and more varied than that of games. Hence a film being adapted from a game is often a result of that game being exceptionally popular, with an established fan-base of sufficient size (and profit potential).

Another aspect of a game that is likely to make its adaption to film more plausible is the use of a quest narrative, which the Silent Hill games do with the inclusion of very detailed plots. As a result the film unfolds with a narrative arch that is quite typical of cinematic quest narratives; a problem needs solving to restore normalcy (distressed daughter taken to perceived place of consolation), protagonist warned against motive, and accompanied, by character of wisdom (female police lieutenant), situation turns out to be different from what protagonist first expected (discovery of Silent Hill being haunted), protagonists personal mission becomes entwined in the fate of the discovered threat and resolution of both is equally related. As Juul points out, game-to-film adaptions become less seamless when initiated by games of a different formula such as the ‘dynamic system’ of a fighting game, producing a vast number of ways that the ‘narrative’ or ‘alterbiography’ (to use George Calleja’s terminology) could pan out.

My experience of the Silent Hill film as a text borrowing aspects of setting and narrative structure from the game series should be taken as nothing more than this. I’m not arguing that the film is some kind of solidified alterbiographic rendition of the game(s), because the film has no exact game comparison (as an adaption, it takes cues from all four Silent Hill games). What I want to draw attention to is how the film can be read as taking aspects of setting and narrative structure from the game series, and quest based videogames in general, in a similar way to how a videogame adaption of a film might use narrative conventions and plot of its informant to create a sense of story alongside game-play.
Firstly, the entrance of film protagonist Rose into areas of the haunted town where she encounters monsters, are set up as if entering the arena of a videogame ‘boss’ or significant character-based obstacle. Rose commonly encounters these significant threats in seemingly designated spaces; for example the open air courtyard where she’s chased by a mob of severely burnt phantom children, or the bathroom containing the contorted, barbed-wire skewed janitor. Although Rose cannot be said to surpass these ‘bosses’ by vanquishing them, the scenes are set-up as if this would be her only means of continuing her journey, which would no doubt be required were these instances translated to a videogame.

Secondly, and extending from the previous point, when Rose encounters a threat, it is a new monster of seemingly increased danger. It is as if Rose must reply with a heightened skill level of attack. Rarely does any particular monster reappear, giving the impression that even though Rose may not have destroyed it, the threat has been surpassed and a new position accomplished as she continues her quest.

Thirdly and on a different note, the audience is given a fairly clear impression of the town’s layout, again comparable to a videogame in that intimate awareness of one’s physical location is most valuable for completing a game using an ‘open-map’ structure. Not only is Rose’s progression through the town buildings vividly portrayed through P.O.V and round-the-corner tracking shots typical of the horror film genre, at one point she comes across a sign-posted map of the town which the camera tracks over with a close-up. The audience is shown in detail where Rose is, and must make her way to. As I viewed this part of the film, I was given the uncanny impression that I’d hit the select button on some phantom game-controller to take a break from the intensity of Rose’s surroundings; to find my feet and re-evaluate the point of her quest. However I of course was not in control. The path of Rose was not mine to choose, and her goals would be reached without my help despite how incredibly immersed I felt in the Silent Hill township.

While my reading of this film may have been presupposed by knowledge of its adaption from a game series, I’m sure that the creators of the film made it with the intension of portraying game-play. I had no control other than to turn the channel, yet aspects of the film described above caused me to evaluate Rose’s surroundings and the creatures she encountered with a strange desire for control.
I’d be interested to see what others think of this discussion in relation to their experience of the film adaption, particularly from anyone with knowledge of the games as mine is very limited.   


Reference:

Juul, J. (2001) “Games Telling Stories? A Brief Note on Games and Narratives”. The International Journal of Computer Game Research, 1(1) http://www.gamestudies.org/0101/juul-gts

5 comments:

  1. I haven't seen the Silent Hill movie in roughly a year, so my recollection is a little skewed, but I replayed through a large chunk of Silent Hill 3 about a month and a half ago, so my knowledge of the games and their mechanics is fairly recent.

    The shot you mentioned with the focus on the map was almost certainly a reference to the games; the maps in the Silent Hill series are pivotal to your success as a player, as paths are continually opening and closing throughout the town. A quick look at the map for any given location will inform the player which areas they might have opened up, and help the confused gamer to find their path for the future. Rose's choice to look at the map hints to its importance in the game franchise, as your only source of direction in games with no townsfolk to guide you, only lethal monsters and a makeshift weapon.

    The escalation of enemies in the film is something I find interesting, as with the way the film's narrative was laid out, it was not something that needed to be done. Silent Hill's monsters are always an incarnation of the summoner's mental landscape. The summoner is the term I elect to use for the focal character of each entry in the game series-- not always a protagonist, not always an antagonist, simply the character who has summoned Silent Hill either through pain (Alessa (SH1 and movie)), guilt (James Sunderland (SH2)), self-doubt (Heather (SH3)) or loneliness (Walter (SH4)). As the summoner of the movie's Silent Hill, the world should have reflected Alessa's mind, using monsters such as the ash children and much less sexualised nurses to communicate her torture and her time in hospital.

    While this was done to a degree, the movie could have used the monsters more effectively, and kept common themes between them over the course of the film; they are exclusive to locales not as a process of 'levelling up' in difficulty, but because different areas of Silent Hill summon different feelings in Alessa. This should have been conveyed more accurately, and more importantly, Pyramid Head should have been left out! Pyramid Head is a monster unique to James' landscape, not Alessa's, that represents internalized masculine guilt over compulsion to do sexual harm. He embodied James' guilt over wanting to have sex with women other than his dying wife, and he was born to punish James for these desires. Pyramid Head simply has no place in Alessa's landscape, as she is female and unburdened by these thoughts.

    The movie's Nurses also fall prey to fan-pandering monster choices; they are James' Nurses, from SH2. He wanted to disconnect emotionally from women, forget the pain his connection with his wife was causing him, and instead have anonymous sex-- so his Nurses, the ones the movie uses, are sexualised and faceless. They were chosen due to being more popular than Alessa's nurses, who had faces and modest clothing-- who were embodiments of the corrupt medical system she endured. By transferring James' nurses to the movie it implies Alessa's film incarnation felt deprived of sex and desired the staff treating her; which doesn't provide the commentary it should.

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    1. Your analysis of the quest narrative is spot-on, in my opinion. Silent Hill was always designed with a quest structure; normalcy is compromised, your character meets a guide who leads them through Silent Hill, the situation is twisted to something different from first thought, and your protagonist forces through the threat and returns to normalcy.

      For example, in the second Silent Hill, this involves James entering the town intent on finding out how his dead wife contacted him, the town turns out to be malevolent and possessed, Maria-- his wife's clone-- emerges as a guide, James turns out to have killed his wife and summoned the town through his grief, and the most popular ending of the game concludes with normalcy restored-- James has come to grips with himself and returned to reality, where he commits suicide to rejoin his beloved.

      The movie reflected the quest-narrative of the first game very accurately, though it removed the more convention quest-narrative ending of the game. In the Silent Hill games, Harry (the original hero of the story) kills Alessa, and reclaims his daughter, though the strain of the journey and her dual-identities has forced her to be reborn as an infant. Harry leaves the town together, with Harry vowing to give Alessa a better life this time, protecting her from the monsters that plagued her.

      So, there's a bit more reflection on the bits you picked out, from the perspective of someone who absolutely adores the Silent Hill series. The movie did a good job of capturing the atmosphere and general plot of the games, but it could have treated its monsters better, and removed some of the game-esque 'levelling' of the creatures.

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    2. *removed the conventional
      **Harry leaves the town together with Alessa

      Phew, got muddled somewhere in all these words-- I think I need a map to get my vocabulary back on track now. I'd take Rose's, but I think that'd just leave me stranded at the Lakeside Amusement Park.

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    3. Having not played the games at length, I wasn't sure of the place or significance of all the monsters used in the film, but I did get the feeling that they had been selected from across the games series as a way of engaging with as many people as possible who would have played the games. Its a marketing strategy I guess.

      For fans such as yourself, with knowledge and appreciation of the games themes and analytical qualities, perhaps this was a bad move on the part of the film makers? To the point that their are incoherent aspects surrounding the monsters and how their character is formed in relation to the protagonists mental deficiencies. This is another thing to consider in the adaption of videogames to cinema; the size and scope of the new audience needs to be factored into the production and desired appeal of the cinematic adaption.

      While not every aspect of the game(s) can be translated, I think its still valuable that some attempts were made to communicate the original structure of this story as belonging to the videogame medium. Also I'm sure further analysis of the film would reveal its own unique social commentary and insightful use of structural elements...

      thanks for replying :)

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    4. I found the film quite interesting for how it chose to end, with Rose and Sharon stuck in a separate dimension to the rest of the world, thanks to their time in Silent Hill. If there's anything I gleaned from the film that wasn't in the games, it was a theme of never going back. Where in the games there is a lot of backtracking to prior locations to check for new items and paths, the movie keeps moving forward-- and the plot matches this.

      Alessa, after her treatment, can never truly go back to the way she was-- she tries to, by way of Sharon, but fails. The town can never go back to being a peaceful mining community. And Rose cannot go back to her old life. Silent Hill, in the film, changes people, and keeps them ensnared in it-- once you have been linked in with its world, you cannot leave. In the games, you can leave Silent Hill, but you have to earn the privilege.

      That particular change was something I found very haunting when I watched the film. It links in with cinematic horror sensibilities quite neatly; in movies, the villain, monster, or threat is usually never quite gone: Silent Hill has to keep Rose inside it to follow through on that theme. But in games you almost always receive a happy ending, even with horror games like Silent Hill, because otherwise the game is trivialising hours upon hours of hard work and potentially insulting or upsetting the player in doing so. A movie can say 'you haven't won', but games are very reluctant to-- because then what was the point in playing?

      But, outside of each ending being designed to fit the medium's Silent Hill more, I thought that the movie ending was much more haunting than the game's. It felt right. Silent Hill isn't something you can just waltz out of once you've been there, it's supposed to be a creeping, insidious presence that draws you in and never lets go. In the fourth game, Henry Townshend, the protagonist, is forced to survive Silent Hill after committing the crime of going there to take photos. If something that trivial can connect you with the town, then a quest like Rose's should leave her stuck, either metaphorically or literally, in the town forever.

      Anyway, there's a sequel to the movie out now which follows the plot of the third game-- I'm looking forward to seeing it and finding out where the movies are leading, if they ever release it in New Zealand (it's been out four months in the US!).

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