Hey, welcome back.
How’s it going? Boy, do I hate DmC: Devil May Cry.
Welp, that’s a good way to set the mood of this
post.
If you’re just joining me here, then let me offer
up a quick summary. I played through Devil May Cry 4: Special Edition. And even though there is new content, the
core that it’s built around -- the stuff that made vanilla DMC4 what it was way back when -- is still incredibly solid. I’m not going to say that it’s a perfect,
10/10 game, but as far as I’m concerned?
The flaws, while notable, have been greatly exaggerated.
The combat system may have a lot to digest
(especially for those who want to be Dante specialists), but virtually every
last aspect of it is top-notch -- catharsis at its finest. The story is simplistic, but is no less
rewarding for it; if anything, I’d say that it’s not only a tale in line with
the DMC canon, but chock full of
appreciable niceties and elements. The
Special Edition has beefed-up graphics, sure, but that’s a layer of polish
added to areas that already have some interesting designs and breadth. The music is exactly what you’d expect from a
DMC game, but at once offers the
blessed buttrock and unforgettable tunes.
I know all of those points are subjective, but I won’t be convinced
otherwise: DMC4 was a good game then,
and it’s a good game now. I’d even say
it’s a great game.
So why the hell did it get rebooted?
Apparently,
Capcom’s former golden boy Keiji Inafune made a push for a more westernized
take on DMC, along with Bionic Commando and Lost Planet 3. The idea was
that the company needed to do something different, or they’d end up getting the
same results over and over again. Fair
point, I suppose…until you remember that DMC4
was the best-selling game in the franchise to date, and apparently their
eleventh best-selling game ever. Soooooo basically, they didn’t want the same
results, with said results being…success?
Before he bailed on the company, Inafune went
on to say that what was then DMC5
would “incorporate certain western touch to make it more attractive to American
and European players.” Basically, the
plan was to compensate for the lack of high sales overseas, and as such appeal
to a wider audience. We’re far enough
into gaming history to know that anyone who uses the phrase “appeal to a wider
audience” threatens to invite trouble as well as scorn; taken from a cynical standpoint,
it’s come to mean “We want those Call of
Duty numbers, and we’re willing to ruin what made our games likable in the
first place to do it.”
The plan didn’t work out. Lost
Planet 3 is a laughing stock, Resident
Evil 6 was deemed a financial and critical failure, and DmC -- despite aims to sell five million
copies at the outset -- limped its way to a fifth of that. Yo,
run that back, Capcom. Run
that back.
I’ve said before that -- even if I do hate DmC with a white-hot passion -- Ninja
Theory wasn’t wrong to make it (though being contracted by Capcom to make it
forced the franchise upon them, but you get the idea). They could have taken the game and made it
their own. If there are weaknesses in
the franchise, then DmC was their
chance to fix them. They could have
added a good spin, an alternate interpretation, or simply given Capcom what
they wanted: a game that would appeal to a wider, western audience.
The problem was, is, and always will be the
execution -- of DmC or any product to
follow. It’s true that the game itself
isn’t the worst ever, and those who enjoy it have legitimate reasons to do
so. But in light of the games before it,
it’s impossible for me to think that DmC is
a step up from pretty much anything.
It’s got interesting art and visuals, sure, but the combat is slower and
imprecise. It’s too easy to cheese your
way through fights. Battering enemies
into oblivion is made much too easy,
to the point where there’s no satisfaction to be had. Style is pointless thanks to a broken system,
and even then you aren’t guaranteed full fidelity with your moveset thanks to
color-coded enemies that stop your flow cold.
There’s maybe one good, memorable boss fight in there, and even then
he’s only average.
The assumption with DmC was that it would have a good story, thanks to Ninja Theory’s
efforts with Heavenly Sword and Enslaved. But what made those games good, if I had to
guess, was the presence of Alex Garland on the staff -- because he’s
practically a ghost in DmC, and it showed. Nearly the entire cast is unlikable. From moment to moment or as a whole, the plot
makes no sense. The tone and dozens of
lines throughout are embarrassing.
There’s no self-awareness, no charm, no wit -- only a bunch of
million-dollar masses of polygons ranting about “freedom” and “truth” while
they try to prove how cool they are. I
know a lot of people see the franchise’s stories as excuses for the action, but
there’s not even that much action in DmC.
Remember, DMC3
had a cutscene where Dante dives off a massive tower and slaughters a bunch
of bloody demons on the way down. DMC4 had a cutscene where Dante showed
off his kung fu skills for no reason other than to show off. DmC had…a
naked Dante spinning in slow motion as he puts his clothes on. That’s at once the best cutscene and the only
time he ever does something stylish and crazy in-game; the rest of the time
it’s generic non-action (if that) when he switches over to Limbo. So it’s bad enough that the writing isn’t up
to par, but worse that they didn’t offer up substantial action to compensate.
I mean…Alex Garland is listed in the opening
credits as a “story supervisor”, but a part of me thinks that they just had him
run the spell check.
I want to give Ninja Theory the benefit of the
doubt. I really do. They’ve got a clean slate now that they’re
making an “indie AAA game” via Hellblade;
maybe now that they’re not shackled to a big company or franchise, they can put
effort and talent into a passion project.
Maybe they can deliver on the empty promises of DmC with Senua and their purported exploration of mental
illness. Or maybe the game will prove
that they’re all a bunch of talentless hacks, and they’ll butcher the subject
matter so thoroughly it’ll come off as an insult to those with a genuine plight. We’ll see.
I suppose the question is “Why?” Why did DmC
turn out the way it did? Why was
Capcom so afraid of the streak they had?
Why was DMC4 considered to be
so bad? Why did they have to reboot a
franchise that was doing pretty well and had plenty of threads to pursue? Why did they not bother to work on the game’s
flaws and do better next time instead of taking such a big gamble on a game
that would not only be on the cusp of a new console generation, but also do so
poorly that it would help hamper Capcom from a dedicated eighth-gen leap? Why would anyone think that a guy who once
wielded a devilish electric guitar made from the remains of a sultry vampire is
somehow less cool than a guy whose most interesting weapon is a couple of
chakrams harvested from a crusty news anchor?
I don’t know.
But I do have a theory: nobody
knows what it means to be cool.
I don’t know what it means to be cool. Capcom doesn’t. Ninja Theory doesn’t. Even the guys behind the very first Devil May Cry game don’t know. Nobody does.
Know why? Because coolness isn’t
a concept that can easily be defined or quantified. It’s a subjective measure based on standards
and trends that change by the day, if not the hour. Chasing after it is a fool’s errand, because
no set of elements exist that will always
make people go “cool”.
Okay, sure.
People will find something that makes them say “all right, that’s cool”
-- but that’s a retroactive, end result sort of thing. Putting in X and Y isn’t guaranteed to bring
about a positive response; it’s about people glomming onto something that
appeals to them in its entirety, and after deliberation -- however subconscious
that may be. The very best thing a
creator can do is create the characters, and world, and stories that have
unique flair. That spark, that
ingenuity, that je ne sais quoi. If
someone buys into it, then they’ll say “that’s cool” and give their
praise. But not everyone will. Not everyone will sync up with the creator’s
good intentions -- and that’s where the problems start.
For a lot of people, I’d guess that DMC4 just didn’t work -- and I might know
why. The grand takeaway from the
franchise -- from any installment, including DmC -- is that it’s going to be a vehicle for lots of action and
lots of cool things happening. The
player will be able to do some amazing moves almost from the first minute of
gameplay on. DMC3’s opening cutscenes are there to provide just enough
context and justification for Dante’s wild antics; they’re a signal of the
fun and excitement the player is in for.
Dante wants to party, and he invites the player to do the same.
Comparatively, DMC4
doesn’t have that. Sure, Dante’s in
there with a cocky swagger, but remember the game’s opening: Nero’s in the
middle of some action, but it’s all set to a peaceful hymn rather than
ear-shredding riffs. And while the game
proceeds to have a big dust-up between Nero and Dante, the context behind it is
different. Dante’s (acting like) the
villain. Someone died. People are running for their lives. Panic is in the air. The adventure this time isn’t all about fun
and games; it’s about duty, and consequences, and more.
DMC4 asked
people to care. And speaking broadly,
people don’t play DMC games to care.
Even a dullard could tell that DMC4 is a story about love. But there’s more to it than that. It’s also a story about loyalty and respect
-- of the struggle against the world itself.
It’s a story about sincerity and drive, passion and duty, belief and
sympathy. It’s a game about earning the
right to exist in an ideal, if selfish world.
And yes, that matters immensely
because it feeds directly into the gameplay; Nero is a rookie in the
franchise, an uncouth and untested rebel in-universe and out of it. Proving himself is done with more than
progression through the story; it’s done with the player’s deft hand, using
relentless attacks to carve through evil and show Nero’s strength and skill to
the game -- to the world that judges him, whether it’s via the hooded believers
of Fortuna, or the points that tally up at stage’s end. Nero’s struggle is the player’s
struggle. Nero’s desires are the
player’s desires.
Nero is designed inside and out to put up a
sincere effort, and to earn respect.
More than the player’s input, the one thing he requires is a sense of
empathy -- and for one reason or another, that
didn’t happen. And I’m not accusing
the players across the world of not caring, because I’m sure there are fans
everywhere who feel as strongly as I do (if not more so). I’m accusing the invisible force that
dictates mindsets and decisions. I’m
more than willing to point fingers at Capcom, Inafune or otherwise, for the arbitrary
decision that Dante, Nero, and all the rest were done, and people couldn’t be
arsed to care. By the same token, I’m
willing to point fingers at Ninja Theory; they’re just as guilty in this
situation.
Minor tangent, but does it destroy the credibility of me and this post by featuring this gif? Probably, but as a rebuttal? Shut up, it's fine.
There’s a part of me that’s convinced DmC is a negative knee-jerk reaction to
everything that makes DMC4 what it
is. Donte starts his game not giving a
shit about anything, and even by game’s end I feel like the self-proclaimed
“demon-killer” still doesn’t give a shit about anything, despite a pretty girl
that hangs on his arm and a devastated planet he claims he’ll protect. He and
the gang can rant all they want about freedom, and clash with all the blatant
caricatures they can find, but all of it rings incredibly hollow to this
day. Even if a “definitive edition”
fixes the gameplay (and runs back all the design choices Ninja Theory once
stood behind), it’s not enough to make the story any better.
A lot of people poke fun at DmC for doing nothing but “trying to be cool”, and in a lot of ways
that’s a legitimate complaint. But I
think it’s important to remember what Ninja Theory tried to make cool. It wasn’t just a bunch of swears, drugs, and
strippers. Nor was it just a band of
punks rebelling against THE MAN and THE ESTABLISHMENT. Those feed into it, sure, but it’s important
to remember the air of the game -- that air being one of utter indifference,
not just “the
edge”. Nobody cares about anything
besides stuff that’ll resolve the bare-bones plot, or satisfy the needs of
half-written characters.
And I’m convinced that that was entirely the plan
-- because for one reason or another, things like effort, sincerity, and
empathy stopped being cool. Ninja Theory
simply played to that.
Honestly? I
think that’s complete bullshit. I was
under the impression that fiction needs characters and plots that bring out
empathy, either in its leads or in its audience. If characters have no stakes in what’s going
on -- if there are no stakes or no concerns in their worlds at large -- then
why should the audience care? Because
destiny said so? Because some stranger
blew in on the wind to pluck a genetically-lucky sod out of obscurity? Because somebody slighted a character, and
sparked a blood-filled vendetta?
No. That’s not enough. Caring about something is what can breathe
life into anything, fiction or otherwise; it’s the result of that care and the
actions that follow that may make for something special.
In my eyes, Nero isn’t cool because of his sword,
his gun, or his Devil Bringer. He isn’t
cool because of his superhuman prowess, or because of the way he looks. He’s cool because he’s a person who uses all
of those attributes to do something that matters. His drive is his power, and it helps him
resolve the plot one punch at a time. He
may do it in a way that inspires awe, but what matters are the basics: the
spark within is the origin of every single cool thing he does. EVERY SINGLE ONE. And as a result, my greatest concern isn’t that we’re going
to get more guys like Donte instead of more guys like Nero; it’s that one day
in the future, people are going to arbitrarily decide that something as
essential as emotional investment is useless.
Creators, fans, everyone up and down the ladder -- they’ll wake up one
day and say “You know what I hate?
Anything that tries to make me care.
Because I don’t care. Just show
me lots of action and cool stuff!”
That’s the bleakest future I can imagine. And I pray that it isn’t our present.
Look, I’ll be real here. I’m not trying to say that stuff like
spectacle or fancy tech is useless; that’d put a lot of Platinum games on shaky
ground. (And despite my words, I’m
partial to a nice revolver.) What I am saying is that that cool stuff works,
if not works best, when it’s built
around an emotional core -- because that’s the origin of the coolness, if not
cool in its own right. DMC4 understood that, and balanced its
spectacle with an honest attempt to tell a heartfelt tale -- one that I feel
was ultimately a success despite some rough patches. Meanwhile, DmC DIDN’T understand that; despite appearing years later, its smug
callousness felt like a regression in every sense of the word.
The weird thing about both of the latter two DMC games is that, in a way, they’re
both experiments. That’s not to say that
DMC3 didn’t have heart or empathy --
remember, Dante’s character arc in that game
took him from a pizza-munching joker to a teary-eyed warrior -- but given that DMC4 and DmC are the latest to have HD remakes, it’s interesting to look at
them back-to-back. (Interestingly, DMC4’s main theme is “Shall Never Surrender”
while DmC has “Never Surrender”.) Both of them tried to be cool, each in
divergent ways. One of them
succeeded. One of them didn’t. You already know where I stand, so I’ll leave
it to you -- and history at large -- to decide the victor.
So I’ll ask something different. Who’s better: Dante, or Nero? There may never be a clear-cut answer, but I
can at least give one. And it’s all
based on this.
When I finished the main story of the Special Edition,
I stared at that screen for a good while.
I sat there and stared in silence as a piano rendition of “Shall Never
Surrender” played in the background. And
I lost it. I absolutely lost it. I
teared up, my throat tightened, and I buried my face in my hand. On some level, it was probably because I’d
been taken back to the past -- back to a world where it seemed like games could
be anything, and do anything. Back to a
time when I wasn’t disappointed again, and again, and again. But I knew I couldn’t go back. And that screen -- the sight of which made me take a direct picture with my phone and upload it here -- was a reminder of what we’ve
lost. It might be something we never see
again. How prophetic the ending was, to
have Dante unable to tell Nero if they would ever reunite.
I know that other good games have come in the time
since. Good games will continue to come
out. But I don’t want to forget about
what Dante, Nero, and all the rest stood for.
Those characters and those games didn’t earn love because they showed
off. They earned love because time and
time again, they did what we all needed: they
showed us what a game could be. In
turn, I would love for them to get their chance to come back, and slay the
hordes of evil in style. But if they
can’t? I want people to remember what
they stood for. It wasn’t just about
style, and it wasn’t just about looking cool.
Their demonic powers, enviable as they are, aren’t what give them
power. It’s their humanity. It’s their heart that sets them apart from
all the rest. They just happened to take
us along for an amazing ride.
So, Dante.
Dante, and Nero, and Vergil, and Lady, and Trish, and all the rest --
all the best. Will we ever meet again? I don’t know.
I hope we do. But until then? I’ll be waiting right here.
I’ll always be waiting for you. Always.
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