I'm sure we've all had the debate about whether or not original films are always better than their sequels, and I think most of us come to the conclusion that the pattern seems to hold. We find a handful of examples that defy the theory, but the majority of evidence points in favor of the first film.
Why? I read a pretty good explanation on that from some writer's website a while back. If you're doing what you're supposed to be doing with a film you're taking a story about a character or community or concept and conveying the single most important chapter in the grander picture of that story. And once you've successfully accomplished that, do you have anywhere to go except into slightly less important territory? Now I could probably explore that idea into a completely different blog, weighing the examples that support or challenge the explanation, but for this blog I'm just going to accept it at face value in favor of moving on to video game sequels; something not as frequently discussed.
Ever since the 1993 film Super Mario Bros. sent a collective migraine through the optimism of the nerd community, video games and films have demonstrated over and over how well they don't play together. You wouldn't think it would be so hard to translate Tomb Raider into a watchable movie with 115 million dollars. And then the Prince of Persia film proves that Hollywood refuses to learn a damn thing. Silent Hill did pretty well, but ye gods, what was that sequel even about? It can only be concluded that films and video games really are two differently paced mediums. Maybe we'll get better translations down the road. I'm not holding my breath.
But for the purpose of this blog, let's put some video game series through the sequel test and see if maybe we can uncover any fundamental difference between what makes a game work as opposed to a film. I've made a list of various video game sequels I've played (and there are quite a lot of them). Let's see where I think quality rises and falls.
Games where the first was better:
Banjo-Kazooie (Banjo-Tooie) -too much busy work
Chrono Trigger (Chrono Cross) -the latter tried too hard to be different
K.C. Munchkin (K.C.'s Krazy Chase) -the Pac-man knockoff was simpler in a good way
Tomb Raider (Rise of the Tomb Raider) -the sequel was similar but had less heart to it
Games where the sequel improved:
Bloodrayne 2 (Bloodrayne)
Galaga (Galaxian)
Infamous 2 (Infamous)
The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks (The Phantom Hourglass)
Majora's Mask (Ocarina of Time) -personal preference
Ms. Pac-man (Pac-man)
Outlaw Golf 2 (Outlaw Golf)
Pitfall 2 (Pitfall)
Super Mario Galaxy 2 (Super Mario Galaxy)
We Love Katamari (Katamari Damacy)
In these cases it feels like the gameplay benefits from the second go-round, adding better gameplay options and/or improved graphics. Bloodrayne 2 and Infamous 2 both expand on the established stories of their predecessors and feel a bit more personal, whereas Spirit Tracks limits the traversal but seems to have more fun decorating the world. And Zelda finally gets to go on the adventure.
Toss-up comparisons:
The 7th Guest/The 11th Hour
Dragon's Lair/Dragon's Lair 11: Time Warp
Kingdom Hearts/Kingdom Hearts II
Shivers/Shivers II
In these cases the games came out pretty similar in nature with a focus on one element or another. In the end, both entries had strengths and weaknesses but the overall quality seemed pretty balanced.
Now I've got one more batch to do for comparison, but here are the trends that I'm noticing. In a video game, story is often periphery. Particularly with the older titles, it's practically non-existent. And maybe that's where the problem lies in translating game to film. When YOU are Lara Croft, you play her a particular way. Maybe you're more jump and shoot. Maybe you take cover more. Maybe you're obsessed with every option treasure (guilty and proud). And maybe you're more speed-run savvy. The point is, there's not really one Lara Croft, there are as many slightly different versions of her than there are players. As such, it's likely more people will look at Angelina Jolie and not see Lara than will.
In video games, and in some books, the lack of definition in a character is a strength. In film, it's a punch line. Take Twilight (please). The book series likely resonated with its audience because Bella's blandness allowed them to fill in their own details as they saw fit, whereas Kristen Stewart kind of made that blandness a definable character trait. And, not necessarily to defend her, what other option did she really have? If she'd given the character a personality, how many fans would cry "That's not Bella Swan!"?
So in a video game series that's not really heavy in narrative, the quality hinges on things like fun factor and gamer satisfaction. More of the same but a couple of new elements and you have a superior sequel. Stray from the formula too much and you support the 'They changed it, now it sucks' trope. Films are more likely to fall into a been-there-done-that rut than games.
But this isn't really getting us anywhere. Let's examine some game series that have an actually immersion to them; the kind where you can identify where the creativity spiked and dissipated.
Batman: Arkham
Ignoring the portable side titles, this series is made up of Rocksteady's Asylum, City, and Knight, with Origins tossed in as a filler pre-quell episode. Asylum was first, and it gave us the near-flawless game mechanics. You got to BE Batman in a way that had never been possible before. It's also seen as a spiritual successor to the animated TV show with Kevin Conroy and Mark Hamill reprising their roles and Paul Dini serving as the head writer. City followed two years later, giving Batman some city streets to fly around in. Asylum was delightfully claustrophobic and 'dungeon-centric' while city gave more of an open world feel, more side quests and a more complicated story.
Origins was a decent follow-up. The bigger world felt more like work but the story was still engaging and the settings creative. The crime scene function and boss battles were particularly memorable. Then came Knight which introduced the Batmobile, a few new menus, and ultimately just overreached. The story was still good, but you just notice how much of the earlier games you miss (playing as Catwoman, the conciseness of the Riddler trophies, and it feels like we're missing a few bad guys).
Conclusion: Second game narrowly wins over the first, with a struggle thereafter.
Donkey Kong Country
More obstacle course than story, but there is still a sense of destination. The first game, DK and Curious George travel through a reptilian army to retrieve stolen bananas (dude, they grow everywhere, get over it). Second game, DK is kidnapped and Dixie takes the helm. Third game, DK and Diddy get kidnapped and that rat bastard Kiddy Kong makes you throw your controller at the television.
Plot wise, the second game makes the most sense. There's also a feeling of completion with the Lost World and a better use of the bonus rooms. So like a lot of games, DKC2 builds on the mechanics of the predecessor. For DKC3, Rare pulls out all the stops with some creative level design but they don't flow together as well. DKC2 built the pacing and challenge carefully and added Dixie's kick-ass ponytail spin. Dixie and Diddy dating doesn't really factor into the plot but their cooperativeness leaves you feeling like you have a positive investment in their relationship. Kiddy on the other hand is Dixie's purgatory. There are a bunch of bears that don't really add much and some collectables that feel forced.
Conclusion: Second game wins with pros and cons of both bookending entries.
Jak and Daxter
Three platformers, a racing game, and then something I never got around to trying. I'll leave it at the platformer trilogy. The first game was fun, and pretty quick on replays. The second? Hoo-boy, talk about a jump in the narrative. A simple series of fetch quests turns into a mission based political rebellion involving time travel, betrayal, guns, and a level resentfully referred to as 'arachnophobia: the chase scene'. And it just keeps going. You almost wonder if the programmers at Naughty Dog forgot they weren't making an RPG.
The third game is a worthy follow-up, and maybe my expectations are too high but it feels like it's half an act short. The first couple of times I played through it I was kind of jostled by the realization that I was starting the endgame. More than any other game series, Jak and Daxter follows the arc of the original Star Wars series, with the middle entry being the darkest and the last one being satisfying but also kind of not.
Conclusion: Second game, hands down. And on a personal note, I really got attached to Anna Garduno's voice. Why didn't she come back for the third game?
Myst
I think there was a Myst V that I never got around to playing but I think I get the basic idea. Nobody talks about Myst anymore which is unfortunate because the game redefined the term 'atmospheric' (to mean pretty, but slow). In the original game you had to read, and you had to take notes, and you had to click everywhere because your cursor didn't change. It was beautiful and serene, but overwhelmingly isolated. It's what happens when introverts design Hell for extroverts.
The sequel had a lot riding on it and the Miller brothers were happy to spend more time designing the massive environment. Unfortunately they seemed to forget that living people with living attention spans would be trying to solve the puzzles. Imagine trying to open a safe with a seven note musical combination. Now imagine each note is on a different page of sheet music scattered over five islands. Now imagine the codex that tells you the order of four of the notes is in Europe. It's tedium incarnate.
Myst 3 has Brad Dourif, and with him comes an actual sense of something being at stake. The puzzles are less esoteric and the conclusion is much more satisfying. Myst IV hits a few speed bumps but it still finds a nice array of puzzles from convenient to hair pulling, and in spite of the lopsided acting the end is quite poignant.
Conclusion: The third game is the best of all worlds, combining the serenity of the original with the motion of the sequel, and adding a truly heart breaking story with a moral grey area. And Brad Dourif.
The Prince of Persia
I'm specifically looking at the Sands of Time trilogy. Sands of Time is a three hour (if you know what you're doing) obstacle course with alternating bouts of swordplay. That by itself is enough for a great game, but Ubisoft went the extra mile by texturing the most beautiful uses of sand in gaming history, matched only by the artistically renowned Journey. And then you have the princess Farah accompanying you. Together, the prince and Farah do what very few game couples can do, they make you give a damn about them.
It takes real skill to present a credible relationship in fiction, much less a developing one, but the prince's attachment to Farah feels very real. When you separate from her in patches, you feel her absence. And when the game arranges it to where you're the one who f**ks up, you find yourself desperate to atone for it.
Warrior Within is seven years into the future, and it's much grittier. As such a lot of people didn't like it, but the gameplay is honestly solid. This easily represents the prince's breaking point. The Two Thrones closes out the trilogy. The platforming is still strong in this one, but everything else suffers from sequelitis. Farah is back but she's much less engaging. The Empress of Time, leftover from the previous game, can only narrate events that you can clearly see for yourself. This one feels more like an expansion pack than a fully realized game.
Conclusion: First game wins hands down, but the second game deserves more respect than it gets.
Sly Cooper
The Sly Cooper series came out around the same time as Jak and Daxter, and both franchises' trilogies mirror each other fairly well. The first Sly is also predominantly a platformer with individual levels, this time featuring an anthropomorphic master thief as the protagonist. Sly 2 features a huge jump in gameplay where the focus is on the trio of Sly and his buddies as they carefully plan heists and have to think on their feet when things go wrong. Maybe it's not quite the advancement of Jak and Daxter, but it's still impressive. And then there's a third entry that feels a chapter or two short but still manages to hold together as a fitting sendoff (until the fourth game).
So like many game trilogies, the first game gets you used to the mechanics. The second game is where the developers really get to pull out all the stops and build something special. The third game is treated as the finale, whether or not this turns out to be true, and generally feels disjointed in ideas. Almost like the production team has to come up with SOMETHING to use the leftovers that didn't make it into the second game.
Conclusion: The second game. Sly 2 is bigger, darker, and really tests the inner strength of the characters.
Ultima
Where do I begin on this one? Even omitting Ultima Online and the side games where Richard Garriott went into fractions, Ultima comprises nine main games, or a trilogy of trilogies. The games that are remembered as great are IV, V, and VII (although I for one will always have a love of Ultima III).
The first trilogy, or the Age of Darkness, was essentially a series of build your character(s) up until they're horrifyingly powerful enough to wipeout the card carrying bully of the countryside. The second trilogy, or the Age of Enlightenment, had no big bads to beat down. Instead the focus was on becoming a virtuous being using a creatively mathematical system of philosophy. The third trilogy, or the Age of Richard Garriott is Moving On and Wants to Go Into Space, is a chaotic mess. The seventh game really is well developed, but it ends on a cliff hanger that is never really given the care that it requires.
Conclusion: Taken as a whole, my money is on the fourth game. The fifth game has a better story, but it also has some fun-murdering mechanics like the visually impairing night sky; realism doesn't always equal inviting. Taken as a series of three trilogies, second trilogy wins. Taken as separate trilogies, I'd go game three, game one, game one.
Uncharted
Also coming from Naughty Dog (the Jak and Daxter people) we have a third person shooter/action/adventure/platformer where the voice actors also recorded the motion capture, resulting in one of the most cinematic game series ever released. Nathan Drake is a modern treasure hunter with a knack for rolling natural twenties and ones in equal doses.
The quality throughout the whole series is pretty consistent, so it really boils down to the story and individual standout levels to distinguish one from the other. The first game is just a straight up adventure; try to get the treasure and don't die. It's not really about anything beyond that. The second game pushes more into who Nathan is versus who he could be. He's given several opportunities to choose the path of the mercenary over the path of the hero, and his choices ultimately keep him on this side of villainy. The third game is about his relationship to Victor Sullivan, his surrogate father figure. And the fourth game is about his loyalty to his brother and how dangerously close he comes to taking the wrong path.
In terms of action sequences, the first game is remembered mostly for the zombie horror mood whiplash, while the second game is known for the handful of stages on the train (horizontally and vertically). The third game has a wider variety of settings, the plane crash, the desert crawl, the ship graveyard, the burning chateau, those mother-f**king spiders, and several on foot chases. The fourth game has a lot of non-lethal levels mixed in and more chances to just relax and explore.
Conclusion: It's a hard pick, but I'm giving the third game the edge. The second game may actually be the best story but it doesn't have quite as much happening. And while the fourth game may have as much to cheer about as the third, it also has some uncharacteristic dead space.
Zork
The grandfather of text based adventures. For this topic I'm only considering the original Great Underground Adventure in three acts (because the computers of the late seventies didn't have the processing capabilities to handle so many words. So Zork I, Zork II, and Zork III, better known as the thief, the wizard, and the dungeon master.
The Zork games are hard. They're like the Myst games without the visuals, but funnier. This was pre-internet so you had no walkthroughs unless you bought them straight from Infocom along with a magic ink marker. Barring that, you had to map the dungeons out yourself, never grasping how one could go north and then south and wind up in a different location than where you started. You die a lot in these games. Even worse than dying was the fact that you can easily place the game in an unwinnable state and not know it. Oh, you carried that buttered biscuit into the stream with you? Well kiss away your hope of getting that sapphire key from the laundry attendant. It's that kind of game series.
So what do we have? In Zork I you have to solve a couple of mazes, say "Ni!" to a Cyclops, and literally go to and from Hell to retrieve twenty treasures just to access a stone barrow, making for the single most over the top lock and key puzzle in the history of sadism. In Zork II you're tormented by a mischievous wizard and this time have to negotiate through a bank, a volcano, and a baseball diamond (no, seriously) to appease a demon to get the wand to raise the menhir to do a couple of other leaps of intuition to wind up on and endless stairwell. Zork III involves collecting some crap and not killing a couple of punks who desperately deserve it just so you can replace the dungeon master, which has apparently been the goal the whole time?
Conclusion: Second game again. Zork I is the longest and most utterly perplexing of the triology, and as such is missing a certain fun factor. Zork III is a gratifying and somber ending, but dealing with the Wizard of Frobozz is simply enjoyable over and over. There's a valid reason you're collecting treasures, and while the puzzles can be taxing they're never rage quit inducing.
Is there anything to take from this? Yeah, a few. One, unlike a film, video game audiences can deal with more of the same. Watching a film is a passive activity, and it's easier for us to get bored. But a game is more active, and stomping on Goombas never gets old for us. Two, video game sequels tend to have a better batting average than film sequels. Probably because the first entry in a video game series isn't required to have any kind of story, much less a solid one. Video games initially need to be a virtual playground, which isn't a luxury films have. Hence, the second game has the advantage of using the playground to create a narrative, and it's almost always the same production team so they've already been kicking these ideas around. Third, if you treat the video game sequels as the first 'real' story being told that's when you find games and films run into similar issues regarding how to top what's already been done.
But the bottom line is, I have a suggestion for Hollywood. If you're going to try to make a video game series into a movie, don't do the first game. Focus on the second one. Or maybe cram the events of the first game into the first act (or scene) and then move on to the second game. Try that and see if you have a bit more success translating one format to another.
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