Here’s a common question: do stories matter in video
games?
Anyone who’s familiar with me or my work will know
that my immediate answer is “YES, YOU IDIOT!” Granted they’re not essential for every game
out there, but in a lot of cases they’re as important to a game as the actual
gameplay -- which makes it all the more infuriating when, say, Final Fantasy’s narrative does a swan
dive into a chunk of concrete. So by
extension, the story in fighting games matter too, and for multiple
reasons. It’s a chance to enrich our
understanding of our mains. It’s a way
to add something special to the franchise, while treating fans old and
new. And for those whose fingers are too
leaden to toss out a V-Trigger cancel combo, there’s still something to enjoy,
I understand why people have written off the A Shadow Falls story, both pre- and
post-release. It hurts to admit that
it’s not very good, but I know that SF as
a whole will thrive because of its ever-enduring, ever-evolving gameplay. Here’s the thing, though: even if it’s
flawed, the new story mode is still important for three reasons. One:
if we keep declaring that “stories in games don’t matter”, then the bigwigs are
going to take that lesson to heart and we’ll get more overpriced, short-lived
multiplayer-only releases. Two: considering all the touting Capcom
did of its story, it demands to be judged accordingly -- so that everyone, devs
included, can see the pros and cons for future reference (and
improvement). Three: even if there’s a lot to wince over in the story, there is absolutely a lot to enjoy.
I was pretty harsh in the last post. But now it’s time to go over some of the good
stuff.
So in
the last post, I asked who the main character of A Shadow Falls was supposed to be.
I think it’s a valid question, and helps encapsulate a lot of the
story’s problems: there’s not enough focus to give the canon the effort it
needs. It would’ve been the easiest
thing in the world to just have the story follow Ryu -- Mr. Street Fighter --
and proceed from there. It also would’ve
been easy to make it a double-decker; have Ryu explore the canon’s spiritual
aspects through a rivalry with Necalli, while Nash tackles the militant aspects
by pursuing M. Bison. And yeah, you
could argue that that’s basically what they did -- at least until you remember
that Ryu spends about 75% of the story away from…well, the story. And then he just pops in for no raisin to
beat all the baddies and save the planet.
I’ve always believed that main characters are the
most important part of any story. They
define it better than anyone or anything else, in-universe or out of it. Their words, actions, struggles, and goals
form a core part of any plot, as they should -- so if the main character of a
story is bad, then the story is bad. That’s
my ironclad rule. If we’re going solely
by screen time, then it’s a safe bet that Capcom wanted Nash to be the star of
the story. And as cool as it is to see
Guile’s old buddy back on the front lines, this isn’t the soldier longtime fans
fell in love with.
I think I’m kind of okay with that. Intentional or not, that’s entirely the
point.
There was a comment on EventHubs that stuck out to
me when Nash’s
new profile was revealed. The
translation of the profile is, to wit:
“Guile's
best friend, and when he was still alive, a first lieutenant in the Air Force.
He lost his life once, but for some reason he is back, and moves with the
singular goal of killing M. Bison. He used to be cool, though a bit of an
egghead, with a very strong sense of justice and an incredibly warm
personality, but after facing betrayal he can no longer trust anyone but
himself. He has lost both his former cool head and his warmness, and is
obsessed with nothing but revenge, leaving him with a very cold personality.”
One of the immediate responses in the comments
section was this. It’s not hard to see why; Nash went from a
cool-headed soldier fighting for justice to a dark avenger out to murder Bison
-- and all it cost him was his personality.
I guess that’s kind of to be expected when you’re revived as a zombie by
a shady organization, but it’s jarring to see the Nash in the character stories
compared to the Nash from A Shadow Falls. Three guesses as to which one I prefer. It seems like Capcom’s showing how far behind
it is in the storytelling race by having an edgy anti-hero that wouldn’t be out
of place in a Zack Snyder film. But the
saving grace -- besides the other, more interesting fighters around him -- is
that in the grand scheme of things, Nash is a failure.
I’ve got no problems with anyone who thinks he’s one
of the strongest SF characters,
but having raw power levels isn’t enough.
It’s not enough to save him from a whooping by Urien, for starters, and
despite his Ahab-style pursuit of Shadaloo’s leader, Nash loses to Bison
twice. True, he had a handicap with his
zombie body -- one with a short battery life, it turns out -- but given that he
was apparently part of some poorly-explained prophecy, the odds are still in
his favor. (Also, I’m pretty sure that he’s
way up there in the tier list, so
chalk that up as gameplay and story integration.)
Yet it wasn’t enough. Nash can’t exact his revenge, and even his
noble sacrifice doesn’t do much besides give Bison a chance to walk menacingly
out of some smoke. Well, it supposedly
weakened him enough for Ryu to finish the job, but given that he’s still in
full fighting shape after the blast -- and Ryu’s apparently reached a point
where he can beat Necalli with one punch -- it kind of feels like it was a
heroic sacrifice for heroic sacrifice’s sake.
Because if Hollywood has taught us anything, it’s that the only way to
truly prove you’re a hero is to die while en route to the ending.
Still, let’s think about this for a second. Nash comes short on multiple accounts,
despite him being one of the closest things to a hero in the story (even though
the real honor arguably goes to Rashid, but whatever). The fact that he couldn’t accomplish anything
besides win a few street fights -- and that Ryu had to swoop in and save the
day -- makes me wonder if there was a message being imparted upon we audience
members. Granted I’m willing to believe
that said message might have been completely accidental, or the result of me
reading WAY too far into things, but I wonder if Capcom was trying to say more
than just “Ryu is the only one who can save the day.”
If we play strawman and oversimplify things for a
bit, then we can call Nash (in A Shadow
Falls, at least) an edgelord. Ooooh,
he was betrayed and left for dead!
Ooooh, now he’s cold and angry at everyone! Ooooh, he’s out for revenge and doesn’t care
about anything else! Ooooh, he’s got all
these fancy new powers to help him be the ultimate dark avenger! That’s not really an archetype I’m too fond
of, and I wonder if Capcom feels the same way.
Nash generally only comes to life throughout the story when it’s time to
rage. And guess what the canon says
about fighters who try to use rage to win?
Even if he didn’t have a zombie body or a battery
on loan from the baddies, it’s a safe bet that Nash wouldn’t be able to beat
Bison. Those are definitely factors,
sure -- he even admits that he’s got no shot of victory -- but he acknowledges
that he’s been corrupted. He doesn’t
have the cool head of a soldier, or the pure heart of a fighter. Power and skill give him an edge in most
fights, but said power pales in comparison to Bison and his Psycho Power
(enhanced or otherwise, potentially).
Plus, what good will it do to give in to that anger? It’s bad enough that he’s basically a zombie
now, but is he honestly so willing to throw away his humanity and heart that
he’ll go into “GRRR MAH MISSHUN” mode, especially knowing that Guile is alive
and well?
It’s really telling that the most impressive thing
Nash does over the course of the story is neutralize the dark energy that’s
infected Abel (and later on, he uses it to hamstring Bison). He’s entrenched in negative emotions, but
ends up finding a way to disrupt Psycho Power -- itself bolstered by negative
emotions -- with little more than a touch.
Moreover, Nash manages to fight Bison more effectively when he has a
cool head; no matter the pain he’s suffered in the past, he sets it aside to do
what needs to be done for the future. I
mean, it doesn’t work or anything,
but it presumably still helps Team Good Guys.
Maybe the bigger question here is whether or not
Nash had what it took to achieve enlightenment.
Inner peace. The “power of
nothingness”, or something like it. As
an ace soldier and the man who created the Sonic Boom and Flash Kick -- which
means by extension he’s the progenitor of the zoning archetype -- he had to
have a cool head throughout his life. If
that’s true, then it may have translated into him becoming a worthy candidate
for the canon’s ultimate power. That
would help explain why he’s a part of a debunked prophecy, and he reasserts his
potential by outstripping Bison in his final moments. An unclouded mind is the key to everything --
to true power, to victory, and maybe someday, to self-satisfaction.
Admittedly that theory kind of breaks down when
you remember that Rashid walloped FANG while whipped into an uncharacteristic
(though 100% justifiable) rage. Then
again, Rashid tapped into a power --
or alternatively, the depths of his personal, windy reserves. He didn’t tap into the power. It makes you
wonder if it takes a certain level of training, i.e. you have to cross some
sort of threshold in order to be a candidate.
If so, that would make guys like Ryu and Nash into living embodiments of
that rule. But even then, it’s not that
big of a deal-breaker. Nor is the big
takeaway the fact that the power of nothingness will get you everything you
want. No, it’s the idea that with enough
effort and dedication -- alongside earnest, pure-hearted desire -- that power
is achievable by pretty much anyone.
And that might be the crux of the whole story --
because it’s pretty close to the crux of Street
Fighter as a whole.
Well, I could be reaching a bit here. I mean, it’s not as if fighting games are a
genre that have inspired untold thousands -- if not millions -- of intrepid
gamers to seek strong combatants and improve their skills for the sake of
finding peace of mind as well as fun. Oh
wait. That’s exactly what they do.
The context of Street Fighter informs
the context of the genre, and its effect on others. People can and will argue that stories in
fighting games aren’t important because the main draw will always be the actual
fighting. I understand that
mindset. It’s hard to disagree with
entirely; in a lot of ways, A Shadow
Falls is a disposable diversion from getting into Training mode and
practicing some Guile combos. It was the
mission of this story -- and will be the mission of future installments,
if they come -- to provide a reason to pull guys like PR Balrog, Tokido, and
Snake Eyez away from the combo lab and into the narrative. And not just “Eh, might as well give it a
look.” I mean “This has given me a whole
new outlook on SF.”
Did it succeed?
Not really. I feel as if A Shadow Falls fell into the same trap
that Dead or Alive 5 did: rather than
tell a story on its terms with its concepts and characters, it opted to just be
cookie-cutter Hollywood fare -- just “save the world and be done with it.” And when you go down that route -- when you
try to compress so much into about three hours’ time, while also trying to be something you’re not
-- then you’re destined to lose. With
that said, I think it’s a much narrower loss than people have declared.
The idea that the power of nothingness is
attainable by anyone with the will for it is an interesting one, and an
important one. Obviously Ryu’s going to
get his hands on it thanks to his travels, but Nash finds some semblance of it
with his effort and talent in the armed forces.
Supplementary materials (like Ryu Final) suggest that Ken finds
his own version of it via his love for his family -- and even manages to wail
on Ryu as proof. Given what we see in this story, he’s well on his way to that
plateau.
So the message here, intentional or not, plays
into a level of idealism and romanticism that’s part of the franchise’s
lifeblood. It doesn’t matter who you
are, what you do, or what your circumstances might be. You can become better than what you are now
-- and you can share your answer with others in this wild journey we call
life. Even if the power of nothingness
is an important player in the canon, it’s ultimately just a metaphor for its
various World Warriors.
More pressingly, it’s a vital part of the
metacontext -- something that props up the story while propping up the
real-world impact. It’s easy to say that
Daigo Umehara is the real-life Ryu, but if you’ll let me be so bold? I’d argue that SF is telling anyone who plays it that you, too, can be Ryu. You can strive for more, overcome your
issues, and reach untold heights with a heaping helping of elbow grease. So in a way, SF pushes something just as hard -- and maybe harder -- than its
World Warriors. It uses them for that
purpose, mind you. And it’s exactly that
use that makes me respect A Shadow Falls for
all its faults.
Here’s the clincher: Street Fighter has heart.
For me, the absolute best moment of the entire
story wasn’t seeing Nash fight with Bison, or Ryu demolishing Necalli, or even
Rashid punching out FANG (though as a fan of the Turbulent Wind, that’s
definitely in the highlight reel). No, the very best moment was when Ken is at
the Kanzuki Estate with his son, and laughing it up about the world of martial
arts -- from watching little Mel try to shoot fireballs to Mr. Masters miming a
Shinryuken in the background. It was
funny, it was charming, it was informative, and it showed something that
previous SF games have hinted at, but
never truly had the opportunity to deliver on.
It’s a given that any story involving the World
Warriors -- in the franchise that gave birth to the genre as we know it -- is
going to feature lots of fighting. I’m
okay with that; the essence of drama is conflict, after all. But A
Shadow Falls is at its best when it gets the time to show these fighters not fighting. Who are they when they’re not in a wrestling
ring, or having punch-ups with Shadaloo goons?
That’s something worth exploring, because you need good downtime to
accent the more intense beats of the plot.
And against all odds, we’ve gotten some of that downtime here. I’d wager that that was part of the mission
statement with the individual character stories, but it shows up in a broader
sense throughout the main story.
Example: promotional materials from Super Street Fighter IV and Street Fighter X Tekken have pushed
Chun-Li and Cammy as partners -- close friends as well as comrades, not just
working together because “we’re both girls, lol”. We’ve seen them tag-team against Juri
and fight it out with
Asuka and Lili, but ever since that narrative started getting a push, how
many opportunities have we had to really see them connect? Not a ton, I’d wager. And in all fairness, it’s not like A Shadow Falls offers a lot on that
front. But there is at least one
poignant scene: Chun and Cammy have a moment to talk while watching Ken play
World’s Greatest Dad.
I’m actually curious to hear if anyone has
problems with that scene (or the story at large). The subject of their conversation is about
family, with Cammy in particular explaining that she doesn’t really know what
“family” feels like. I wonder if anyone
thought it’d be sacrilege to hear the “world’s strongest woman” talk about
family, and thus move away from street fighting and Interpol work to baking
cookies for the school bake sale. That’s
projecting a little (okay, a lot), but speaking personally, I’m okay with that
insight into their characters. Chun-Li
was born in 1968, and while the canon is clearly playing fast and loose with
the flow of time, it’s not as if any of the World Warriors are pulling a
Benjamin Button on us.
I’m not saying that these characters are
automatically better because they’re dealing with family stuff. Likewise, it’s nowhere near a requirement to
earn praise from an audience. (I don’t
think anyone’s clamoring for Birdie to become a dad anytime soon.) But considering that Chun-Li does end up
taking in kids as the canon progresses, it makes sense for her to start
thinking about more than just roundhouse-kicking Bison. Plus, part of her motivation is to seek
justice for the murder of her father; if we assume that he was good to her in
the past, then clearly playing the noble guardian to others is something she
holds in high esteem. It makes sense for
her to at least consider parenthood -- adopted or otherwise.
As far as I can tell, it’s not as if Chun-Li’s
future is a binary choice. She gets
knocked around a lot in A Shadow Falls,
and that’s definitely something to be sore about (I’ve only played as her for
about an hour throughout my entire life, but I still think she’s amazing). But at least she’s trying. At least she’s there, being the Interpol
agent -- just as she was in chronologically-earlier and later installments in
the franchise. And guess what? In this game, she’s still extending a hand
and a warm hug to children. In SFIII, she’s still kicking dudes a
hundred times a second. She can be more
than just one thing -- just like normal, everyday humans -- and she’s stronger
for it.
And that, in turn, makes me pose a very important
question.
The Super Best Friends discussed it a while
back. To paraphrase: are you stronger
when you have nothing to lose, or are you stronger when you have something to
protect? That’s basically the divide
between Ryu and Ken, respectively -- but even though the former has overtly
embraced the power of nothingness, I’m inclined to believe that it’s not
exactly a clear-cut answer. Yeah, Ryu’s
pre-fight quote has gone from “The answer lies in the heart of battle” to “This
is the path of my destiny”, which implies that there’s one road to victory and
he’s driving down all three lanes simultaneously.
Still, Nash basically found his version of the
power of nothingness (if not the sole genuine article). Ken’s more than capable of keeping pace with
Ryu despite having a family -- and
presumably a fraction of the time to train.
Rashid managed to shrug off FANG’s poison and beat Shadaloo’s number
two, despite his ability to melt people
with a touch. (Side note: let’s all
take a moment to appreciate that even if Ryu beat Bison, it was actually Rashid
who stopped the Black Moons and saved the world. Not bad for a new challenger.)
What I’m getting at here is that the context of A Shadow Falls plays up an important
point of interest: it’s possible to become the best you can be, but what that
entails will vary from person to person.
Ryu’s ideal state (or close to it) makes use of the power of
nothingness. So does Nash’s. Ken’s may or may not, but that’s fine because
he’s guided by his desire to protect his family. Rashid’s comes from a desire to find (and
eventually avenge) his friend. Different
people have different roads to different answers, and that’s okay. It’s welcome, even.
True, it’s not like every road is a winner; trying
to cheat your way to the top with stuff like Psycho Power or the Dark Hadou
only leads to corruption and ruin. But
the options are there for anyone, as long as the effort is there and the desire
stays pure. There’s nothing stopping
Chun-Li from being able to one-shot Necalli somewhere down the line as long as
she stays on-course with her desires.
Having rescued her sisters -- the Dolls as well as Decapre -- Cammy’s
taken a step forward, and might be able to draw on more power than the “Killer
Bee” ever could. Zangief and R. Mika
believe in their iron bodies, and given that the Red Cyclone shattered a sword
with just his pecs, I’d say they’re onto something. Dhalsim’s reportedly sneaking up on
divinity.
It ties into the idealism and romance of the
franchise. It’s not about power or
winning; it’s about being your best, staying true to your desires, and sharing
something -- be it a tender moment or a ton of fun -- with others. That speaks way louder than a plot to shroud
the world in darkness, at least to me.
The thrills are only temporary, so it’s up to everything else to leave a
lasting impression.
And for all of the faults with A Shadow Falls, that’s definitely the
case here. Guile grabbing Nash’s hand to
help him make a daring escape; Ryu and Ken fist-bumping after another sparring
match, and before another departure; Rashid listening to the last words he’ll
ever hear from his old friend; those moments (and more) have heart.
And if I were a betting man, I’d say that those will stick with me much
longer than who won which fight, or how much stuff blew up, or who showed up.
I’ll still argue that the story should’ve been
told in an episodic format. Likewise, I
hope that going forward, the quality of the story increases dramatically. But that’s the thing: I want there to be more narrative content, and not just tucked into a
menu as a formality (or a way to earn Fight Money). I want to see that heart on display once
again. I want Capcom to make a story
that truly, objectively matters to more people, not just big-headed nerds who
overthink everything. SF is always going to be a “gameplay
first” franchise, but it doesn’t have to be strictly limited to that. Not when it can be so much more, to so many
more.
There’s a moment in the latter half of A Shadow Falls where the good guys are
all piled into Kanzuki Estate and planning their next move -- i.e. getting
ready for their final assault on the Shadaloo base. What do they do before taking off? They all group up and put their hands in the
center, as if to rally for a big hockey game.
It’s a cheesy moment, but it’s partly what I expected -- and exactly what I wanted.
The game industry’s had to deal with tons of
homogenization and growing pains over the past few years, which has led to some
seriously stale titles hitting shelves. SFV has enough style to resist the tide,
thanks to its World Warriors -- men and women of different characters, forms,
nationalities, and desires, but nonetheless cooperate to fight a common
enemy. Well, when they aren’t fighting
each other.
But the point is that there’s something strangely
admirable about the SF universe and
what it’s trying to push -- something that honestly feels necessary as well as
refreshing. In a world where people are
so easily divided over issues and ideals, sometimes we need a common ground to
get behind. If we can’t bond through our
circumstances, we can at least bond through our fiction. Ryu, Ken, and all the rest are ambassadors on
that front, and I’m thankful for it.
Sometimes we need the unreal to show us what can be real.
And for that, I have one last thing to say to
Capcom: please add Dee Jay to SFV. And also, give him the power to turn into
Shin Dee Jay. It’ll be great.
And to anyone still reading this? Thanks for reading. As a reward: the “mysterious stanza” from
Part 1 is actually the first verse of a “song” my brother once had Banzai Buddy
sing. Here’s another verse.
Aw, shucks
You’re a duck
You suck you have no luck
You smell now go to hell
Walnuts, peanuts, pineapple smells
Grape Ape better run ‘cause I got coconut shells
Ah, Banzai Buddy.
You caused no harm to anyone or their hardware over the course of your
life.
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