Batman: Arkham Origins and why video games are good for the brain

A scientific study and a grumpy gamer.

We video-game lovers of a certain age belong to an emerging industry demographic: the grumpy gamer. Like Frank Underwood, the political schemer played by Kevin Spacey in the US version of House of Cards, grumpy gamers play in snatched moments of privacy in the short breaks of busy, stressful lives.

We buy consoles for our children, in part to recreate our teenage years, the good old days when we had to transcribe computer code from the pages of magazines before the satisfaction of a marathon all-nighter with a Sinclair ZX Spectrum.

We buy the games for the same reason my mum used to give me an apple, an orange and a sixpence every Christmas, or narrate “The Owl and the Pussycat” before I went to sleep. She did it because it took her back to her childhood.

So, I play Lego Batman with my kids, and when they go to bed I can play and review a darker Batman – this month, Batman: Arkham Origins, a cruelly unrewarding game, though not entirely without merit, as one would expect from this franchise.

The theme of Arkham Origins is assassination and survival. Eight mercenary assassins are hired to take out Batman. The Bat is supposed to glide through Arkham, picking up clues and solving problems as he works his way through the list of super-baddies who slug it out for the ransom on his head. Loyal butler Alfred, who dispenses advice to our solitary hero from the lonely Christmas batcave, assists him. I found Alfred a reassuring character – as one would expect from a Martin Jarvis voiceover.

Along the way, Batman meets old adversaries such as the Joker and the Penguin – the latter sounds like a Geordie, playing a New Yorker putting on a cockney accent. Victory requires the Bat to get into many fights with an array of thugs, some old, some new. By throwing old adversaries into the story, Warner Bros have given a familiar feel to its successful franchise.

That’s important because grumpy gamers are sentimental about old friends and foes. They talk about Mario, Zelda and Jet Set Willy as if they were the cast of digital friends reunited. When I press a fresh DVD into its console slot, there is always a parental impulse to lecture children about the artefact called audio tape recorder, the device that used to be the way we uploaded our games, back in the day. They look at me blankly, as blankly as they did on our first visit to Vinyl Revival in Manchester’s Northern Quarter.

Grumpy gamers also like to win as easily as possible. Games that require persistence and attention to nit-picking handset detail have less of a premium than they used to. When I slump into that midnight sofa, I want to mash the handset and not worry too much about whether it’s an XXY or an XYY thumb manoeuvre. I just want to deal with the bad guys and clean up the city as quickly as possible.

Is any of this good for us? Scientists in Germany have recently claimed that playing video games augments grey matter in the sections of the brain used for spatial navigation, strategic planning and working memory. On reading this erudite study, my immediate thought was, in an Alan Partridge voice, take down for Mr Keith Vaz. Video games are good for the brain. Gamers win; Daily Mail lose.

Cognitive science may be rebalancing the argument in favour of video games being good for humanity but I’m afraid Batman: Arkham Origins is not. The stimulated grey matter that results from the latest offering by Warner Bros only applies to those sections of the brain usually associated with frustration, intolerance and, well, grumpiness.

The good news: the game, which is a prequel to the successful Arkham Asylum and Arkham City, contains all the old features we’ve come to love from this franchise. The combat system is as graceful as a ninja at the Darcey Bussell dance school. Batman’s tech is all there: batarang and grapple hook, smoke pellets and explosive gel. He gets some new kit too, enhancing but not significantly altering gameplay for loyal fans. If it were a second album, the game would be More Specials – still memorable and loved by fans but less edgy, raw and lacking the shock of the new.

And here’s the bad news: I couldn’t do it. I just could not get beyond the first proper boss level, a dual with Deathstroke. Not being able to kill Deathstroke after 20 hours on a single level says more about my ability than the game but there’s a lot of grumpy gamers out there. Boss levels are by their nature tough to get through but surely it represents a failure for the developers in making the level so hard that you just can’t get past it?

In the end, I reset the game and started from the beginning on “easy” level. This was irritating. Even on this mode, I could not deal with Deathstroke without the advice of Bruce, the teenage son of a friend, which was humiliating. I played it 70 or 80 times before grumpily seeing Deathstroke get his comeuppance. The last time I played a game this punishing to user error was Manic Miner on the Spectrum. Then, nothing could prevent me from being pixel perfect until victorious.

This time round, it’s different. Batman dies but the grumpy gamer is born.

Tom Watson is the Labour MP for West Bromwich East

No joker: 'Batman: Arkham Origins' is not easy.
Tom Watson is the MP for West Bromwich East, and Deputy Chair of the Labour Party. He is also an avid gamer and campaigner for media integrity.

This article first appeared in the 06 November 2013 issue of the New Statesman, Are cities getting too big?

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The Big Sick is well meaning, rather than groundbreaking

There’s a chemistry shortfall between the actors, and some limits to Kumail Nanjiani’s range.

When real romances are adapted for the screen by those involved, the process usually occurs after the flame has gone out. Woody Allen and Diane Keaton were just good friends by the time they made Annie Hall; Julie Delpy and Adam Goldberg had broken up long before they played lovers in 2 Days in Paris. The Big Sick, however, is based on the relationship between its lead actor, Kumail Nanjiani, and his wife, Emily V Gordon (played by Zoe Kazan), who wrote the script together. Their story, a loose retelling of real events, shifts the emphasis away from whether or not their love survived (we know it did) and on to how it endured in the face of unusual odds – with Emily lying comatose in hospital when they had scarcely got to know one another.

The director, Michael Showalter, is not a man scared of spelling out the obvious (during an argument between Kumail and Emily, a road sign behind them reads “Speed bump ahead”) but even he draws the line at putting The Smiths’s “Girlfriend in a Coma” on the soundtrack.

Kumail is a Pakistani comic on the lower rungs of the Chicago stand-up circuit. His family is trying to marry him off to a nice Muslim woman but Kumail is more interested in Emily, a graduate student in psychotherapy who heckles him at a gig one night. His family, given to openly disdaining any relatives with white partners, isn’t aware of her existence, but it hasn’t watched, as we have, the cutesy montage of their courtship.

The couple finish most of their dates with a joke about never seeing one another again. When Emily becomes ill and is placed in a medically induced coma, this running gag becomes unexpectedly resonant, along with Kumail’s choice of date movie: The Abominable Dr Phibes, in which Vincent Price takes revenge on the doctors who let his wife die in surgery. In a piece of timing that adds an extra tartness, Kumail and Emily have broken up shortly before she falls ill. Strictly speaking, they aren’t even in a relationship when Kumail first encounters Emily’s mother, Beth (Holly Hunter), and father, Terry (Ray Romano), at the hospital. Meet the Parents coincides unexpectedly with While You Were Sleeping. Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner lurks in the background.

The estrangement might have been definitive were it not for the coma, though the film can’t quite bring itself to acknowledge the helpful part played in the couple’s relationship by a life-threatening medical emergency. In common with anything in which Judd Apatow has a hand (he gets a producing credit here), The Big Sick is in the business of reassurance. Emily mentions that she works with men convicted of domestic violence but the world of the film is one where harm is only ever inflicted inadvertently.

Discomfort surfaces in the two brief scenes that come closest to holding to account Nanjiani’s likeable, mildly neurotic persona. The tremendous Vella Lovell stands out as one of Kumail’s prospective brides, who upbraids him for his cowardice. And Emily rages at him over a perceived betrayal in a scene that would be more persuasive still if the pair seemed like actual lovers rather than just room-mates. There’s a chemistry shortfall between the actors as well as some limits to Nanjiani’s range, which extends from “genial” to “a bit cross”.

He also suffers from the problem, common to stand-ups who become actors, of not always knowing how to integrate material into characterisation. Seinfeld handled it well by showing Jerry getting caught out trying to sneak “bits” into casual conversation, but in The Big Sick the gags often sit on top of the action. The movie’s best joke is Kumail’s response when Terry, who has clearly never met a Muslim before, asks his opinion on 9/11. No man would ever say what he says to the parents of a woman he was hoping to win back, let alone whose life was hanging in the balance, and if we forgive him, it’s only because it’s an ingenious line. It is also one of the thousand or so reasons why The Big Sick is well meaning rather than groundbreaking, and why a Judd Apatow production will never be confused with a Preston Sturges one. 

Ryan Gilbey is the New Statesman's film critic. He is also the author of It Don't Worry Me (Faber), about 1970s US cinema, and a study of Groundhog Day in the "Modern Classics" series (BFI Publishing). He was named reviewer of the year in the 2007 Press Gazette awards.

This article first appeared in the 27 July 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Summer double issue