In part one, Adam Looks at Beyond Good and Evil from Michael Ancel, the brilliant creator of the first two Rayman games.
Jade battled to free the minds of Hilllys’ inhabitant, but she was only free to do this after Micheal Ancel had a similar battle with videogame audiences. Beyond Good and Evil is the product of Ancel’s struggle; it is his attempt to open minds.
Originally intended as part of a trilogy, BGAE failed to sell. It was so much of a commercial failure that the work that had gone into the game-world’s engine was cast aside (although the JADE engine did go on to feature in the more successful Prince of Persia) and the franchise died without delivering it’s sequels.
It’s a shame too, because Jade’s home world of Hillys felt real. It felt like every step you took in the world left a footprint. Crowds would gather in support of the rebellion. Every exposure you made was broadcast and heard by the people. The JADE engine made possible long-distance visuals, preventing feelings about the environment being an endless series of “levels” – it was a hive of activity. It was a prize worth liberating.
Cinematic sequences carried a sense of drama and emotion. Jade’s personality wasn’t explicitly told to the player; it was signed in unspoken language: with the nuance of her character revealed in the movements and framing of the camera.
Ancel had a tale to tell, and he told it impeccably.
And then there’s Jade. She wasn’t from the mold of other female protagonists, and she wasn’t bound by their shared restraints. She was mentally strong, strikingly independent, and was the backbone of a revolution – a willing messiah for Hillys. Most importantly, and most distinguishingly, Jade was untouched by marketing staff seeking the dollars of teenage boys. She was the opposite: she was a feminist heroine.
Jade’s spiritual, she’s resilient, and she’s a woman of substance – tied to her purpose without thoughts of failure. Most endearingly, Jade is a mother figure, but not just a mother figure. Her role as caretaker is but a reflection of one aspect of her personality and, when paired with her thirst for truth, makes up her drive. Yes, Jade began by taking care of a few, but she ended up taking care of an entire nation.
Metroid Prime’s Samus Aran is an icon; the moment she removed her helmet to display her femininity is seminal. However, and this will anger some, when you’re playing the game she’s not a woman. She’s not even a man. She’s a sexless, soulless it.
Originally intended as part of a trilogy, BGAE failed to sell. It was so much of a commercial failure that the work that had gone into the game-world’s engine was cast aside (although the JADE engine did go on to feature in the more successful Prince of Persia) and the franchise died without delivering it’s sequels.
It’s a shame too, because Jade’s home world of Hillys felt real. It felt like every step you took in the world left a footprint. Crowds would gather in support of the rebellion. Every exposure you made was broadcast and heard by the people. The JADE engine made possible long-distance visuals, preventing feelings about the environment being an endless series of “levels” – it was a hive of activity. It was a prize worth liberating.
Cinematic sequences carried a sense of drama and emotion. Jade’s personality wasn’t explicitly told to the player; it was signed in unspoken language: with the nuance of her character revealed in the movements and framing of the camera.
Ancel had a tale to tell, and he told it impeccably.
And then there’s Jade. She wasn’t from the mold of other female protagonists, and she wasn’t bound by their shared restraints. She was mentally strong, strikingly independent, and was the backbone of a revolution – a willing messiah for Hillys. Most importantly, and most distinguishingly, Jade was untouched by marketing staff seeking the dollars of teenage boys. She was the opposite: she was a feminist heroine.
Jade’s spiritual, she’s resilient, and she’s a woman of substance – tied to her purpose without thoughts of failure. Most endearingly, Jade is a mother figure, but not just a mother figure. Her role as caretaker is but a reflection of one aspect of her personality and, when paired with her thirst for truth, makes up her drive. Yes, Jade began by taking care of a few, but she ended up taking care of an entire nation.
Metroid Prime’s Samus Aran is an icon; the moment she removed her helmet to display her femininity is seminal. However, and this will anger some, when you’re playing the game she’s not a woman. She’s not even a man. She’s a sexless, soulless it.
And when Samus won the Gamefaqs character battle it was a bit sad. The first woman to win the contest wasn’t really a woman at all, she was a canvas; a white sheet for the player to project themselves onto; she was a safe nothingness.
Compared to Samus, Jade in Beyond Good and Evil is Women’s Rights 2003: liberation in a new medium.
It’s just a shame she had such a sad and premature ending.
Adam Montgomery
*wipes a tear* So true...so true.
ReplyDeleteWhy did it fail?
ReplyDeleteHow can we prevent this from happening in future productions?
What's wrong with people for not flocking to this game!!
I am reminded of the independent non-Hollywood movie industry, the stupid stuff sells the most.. if this game were a movie, it would be on the art-house circuit.
Is the problem simply that the production budget was too high?
Commercial failures of games like this or Psychonauts are disheartening when considering the importance of creativity in game design. It necessitates thinking and re-inventing ways for these games to be made without being a huge risk.. (smaller studio, cheaper development costs = less risk?)
When you find a game you're passionate about...share that passion with the people you know. Passion can't be faked and when people recognize it, you have the chance to create a real following. Beyond Good and Evil was a great and utterly under-appreciated game. I haven't read this story in several years. Adam really did a fine job.
ReplyDelete