Arkham City and Mass Effect: Why do you so rarely get to play a character that experiences sexism?

There is gender in the world of video games but it is often one-dimensional or tokenistic. Games so often include prejudice and bigotry, but won’t direct them at player characters. Why?

Ever noticed that when there is racism or sexism in a video game it is usually directed to people other than the main character? From the over the top racism in the world of Bioshock: Infinite to the sexism of Duke Nukem Forever it so often seems to avoid the character you play as. Even in games like The Saboteur or Red Faction: Guerrilla, where you are trying to rebel against oppressive hostile armies, barring an initial act that triggers a revenge story these oppressive armies don’t actually hassle you. And in The Saboteur those guys are Nazis, the biggest bunch of pricks ever assembled on the History Channel, yet even they won’t bother you until you bother them.
 
Why is it that games will so cheerfully let us watch prejudice and bigotry, but won’t direct them at player characters?
 
One answer is perhaps that the element of wish fulfilment that permeates many games will not allow players to be part of an underclass or a victim. Would playing a game where you are actually persecuted mean that the game becomes less enjoyable, or would it add some extra bite to proceedings? There are of course plenty of opportunities to kill racist characters in video games, but typically this will be done to protect others. For example in Bioshock: Infinite though the world is a very racist one you play a white guy so nobody ever sends any of that prejudice your way. The racism often displayed towards others informs us that these characters are legitimate bad guys deserving to be slaughtered in the most violent ways possible. The main character is a proxy, a third party, intervening on behalf of the downtrodden, not one of them, a Messianic outsider to fix all the things.
 
Sexism however is handled differently to racism in games and will sometimes manifest itself against a female protagonist. This poses an interesting conundrum. Should a game world be as honest as possible and treat female characters in the manner that is consistent with that world? Or should video games provide a space where female characters and women who play them are given absolute equality? And what of male players, should a female character merely provide a male player with a more interesting rear end to watch in third person view, or should it be a different, potentially more challenging experience?
 
If we compare the female Commander Shepard from the Mass Effect series with Catwoman from Batman: Arkham City then we can see these opposing approaches in action. The female commander Shepard, known to most players as Femshep, is the alternate and non-canonical female version of Manshep, the male commander Shepard and the hero of the Mass Effect series. You get to pick at the start of the game whether you want to play as the male or female version of the character and barring romantic interests the story pans out in the same way. Catwoman is a secondary protagonist in Batman: Arkham City who crosses into the main plot from time to time but also has her own objectives.
 
The Mass Effect series is set in a universe that doesn’t have much direct sexism in character interactions, but is a horrible mess nonetheless. For example the majority of alien species don’t even have females that feature in the game. In one case this is an important plot point, fair enough, but by and large the universe is a sausage fest. The exception is the Asari who are there to provide a token alien female presence and nightclub dancers, mostly the latter. The Mass Effect universe literally has all things male in one set of species and all things female bundled into their own separate species. This leaves the humans standing around awkwardly in the middle trying to explain why they installed EDI into a robotic stripper body rather than a tank. Some of us liked the tank.
 
In this world however our intrepid Femshep faces no sexism herself. She gets paid the same as Manshep, she gets promoted at the same points, she is taken as seriously, or not, by her superiors as her male counterpart. Nearly everything remains the same and the changes are purely superficial. This does mean that Femshep is a formidable protagonist in many ways, though this is undermined in some regards by knowing that the character was written male and simply treated to a change of avatar and a better voice actor.
 
Contrast this to Catwoman’s lot in Arkham City. The character of Catwoman suffers from many of the same problems as plague the Asari species in the Mass Effect games, a great deal of her role is based around titillation, which is something that depictions of female comic book characters have largely had to deal with since forever. The art style of Arkham City certainly doesn’t fight against any conventions here and indeed it largely panders to expectations. However Arkham City does do something unusual for a game with a female protagonist, it takes the sexism of its aesthetic and carries that over into the gameplay elements.
 
This makes Catwoman a very, very unusual character to play. Typically, playing a female character in a game you kind of expect that character to be treated like a male character. This does not happen with Arkham City. The villains of Arkham City fear Batman because he’s a scary guy who likes to leap out of the shadows and kick their heads in; this manifests itself as a kind of respect, even if they are trying to kill him. However the bad guys have no such respect for Catwoman. They are crude, they are sexist, they make a lot of distinctly rapey comments and generally you get the impression that the intent of these villains is not just murderous.
 
It’s not pleasant, not in the least, but it fits the game and, ultimately, as distasteful as it is, there is a certain raw honesty to it. Arkham City is a game that owns the unpleasantness of its world and drops the player right into it. Having the villains acting like such a bunch of misogynistic scumbags makes it all the sweeter to kick them around the street, where’s the fun in battering people who don’t deserve it?
 
But here’s the thing. If I was a woman, would I want to be playing a character that gets the kind of abuse thrown at her that Catwoman gets? I don’t know and I’m not going to presume to guess. Therein lies a question though, does a design choice justify itself because one person (or one demographic) likes it, and is it invalidated if it alienates or offends another? Clearly the way that Catwoman was treated in Arkham City did offend plenty of people.
 
While I would argue that the sexism of the villains in Arkham City is fitting for the characters and ultimately improves the game from my subjective point of view, that’s not an entirely comfortable position. Just because I think something improves a game does not necessarily mean that it is right to include it.
 
Does this mean that our characters in video games should be spared from bigotry and prejudice because that bigotry and prejudice might resonate with a player who experienced them in real life? Maybe sometimes they should, but maybe sometimes not. There are no easy or universal answers unfortunately.
 
Bowdlerised and unchallenging games are awful, but we have to accept that what one person finds challenging another may find objectionable. One of the greater strengths of gaming as a pastime is its inclusivity and though obviously there’s nothing wrong with a game appealing to audience having every game chasing the same audience is self-defeating all round. Games should be true to their creative visions, but if that creative vision requires a game to antagonise and alienate then it needs to have a very good reason.
 
That said of course, if you want to experience all the fun of being subjected to all the most base and bigoted abuse under the sun, a new Call of Duty just came out, fill your boots.
 
Catwoman from Batman: Arkham City.

Phil Hartup is a freelance journalist with an interest in video gaming and culture

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The world has not had enough of Daniel Craig as Bond

The actor's fifth film in the franchise will be a welcome return for his layered and troubled Bond.

It looked like a cut-and-dry case. He was going to be the spy who went out in the cold. The one who didn’t say “never say never again.” Dr No Thanks. But with the announcement this week that Daniel Craig is staying on to have one final stab at the role of James Bond, it’s become a case of Resign Another Day. 

A fifth outing in the part will nudge Craig ahead of Pierce Brosnan (four) and comfortably outstrip Timothy Dalton (two) and George Lazenby (one) while leaving him a couple short of both Sean Connery (seven) and Roger Moore (also seven, though consecutive where Connery’s run was not). But it’s the quality not the quantity that counts and Craig has been consistently intriguing and surprising, whether the films themselves have been (Casino Royale, Quantum of Solace) or not (Skyfall, Spectre). He has also attracted compliments where it counts. Moore, who died earlier this year, referred to Craig as “the Bond.” Are you going to argue with the man who leapt across a row of snapping crocodiles in Live and Let Die, survived the G-force simulator in Moonraker, told a tiger to “Sit!” in Octopussy and went to bed with Grace Jones in A View to a Kill? Thought not.

I’m glad in one way that Craig has chosen not to leave just yet. He has one of the best heads in the industry. I’m not talking about his business acumen - I mean his actual head, a cross between a breeze-block and a bullet, with distinctive jutting ears stuck on the sides for good measure. He looks formidable before he even produces a weapon. What’s more, he casts the most easily-identifiable shadow since Mickey Mouse. His appeal is not just physical though. His is a genuinely layered and troubled Bond, something which the films immediately prior to his own tried to evoke, but which seemed slightly beyond the range of Pierce Brosnan - who, let it be noted, had some tremendous moments of befuddlement in GoldenEye (the one where Judi Dench, as M, gives him that memorable dressing-down in which she calls him a “dinosaur”) and even came close to a Craigian callousness in The World Is Not Enough.

In the end, it was Brosnan who was not enough. Not dangerous, intelligent, damaged enough. Craig has the whole package. If you’ve seen Casino Royale, and you have forgotten the intermingled strains of pain, resentment and vulnerability that he brought to one cruel line near the end of the film (“The bitch is dead”), then I envy you. I can still hear his chilling delivery. 

Any reservations I feel about his return in the next Bond movie, which is scheduled for November 2019, can be traced to an eagerness to see what else he will do once he hangs up his holster and tuxedo. He was a fine actor before Bond (check out Love is the Devil, The Mother and the BBC’s Our Friends in the North for proof) but has not made such a strong impression so far in extra-curricular parts during his tenure as 007. (He will shortly be seen in Steven Soderbergh’s heist movie Logan Lucky.) It will be exciting to witness what he can do once he is a free agent - or rather, not an agent any more at all.

It would have been nice and neat for Craig to have bowed out with Spectre. It wasn’t an impressive piece of filmmaking by any stretch of the imagination but it dropped so many hints about its hero’s demise that it felt like a natural swansong. Bond is first seen in Spectre  wearing a skull mask during Day of the Dead celebrations in Mexico City. In scenes later on in London, he learns that plans are afoot to sack him. Switching on a radio, he is greeted by “New York, New York”, the lyrics of which have P45 stamped all over them: “Start spreading the news/I’m leaving today.” His off-screen antipathy in interviews towards the idea of being bound to Bond only fuelled the rumour that it was curtains for him.

But though he said straight after finishing Spectre that if he played Bond again it would only be for the dough, no one should doubt his commitment. “I get paid a lot of money to do something I love to do,” he said in 2011, when Skyfall was still in the planning stages. “And whatever it is—the way I was brought up, or whatever—I feel if you’re getting paid you should put the work in. Maybe I’m stupid and everyone’s looking at me and saying: ‘Chill out, take the money and run.’ I can’t do that. I feel the more we put into it, the more we’ll get out. How best can we spend all this money? You don’t just take it and go, ‘Yay! See ya!’ I want millions of people to watch the movie. So why not make it good?”

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.