Video games and movies have had what might be called a stressful relationship. Since video games became mainstream – and more importantly, commercially viable – creators have used the medium to expand into newer and more innovative styles of storytelling that work best when the person playing the game is in control.
Many of the most well-regarded video game stories in history, such as "Half-Life 2" and "Dark Souls," are lauded for never wrestling control away from the player even during crucial story moments, preserving the audience’s sense of immersion and investment in the game’s world. Movie adaptations of video games take away the audience control that is central to the experience of playing video games, and, for this reason, the two mediums often seem to be irreconcilable. The number of decent video game films is seemingly a testament to this rift between mediums, and the recent "Ratchet & Clank" film does much to confirm why adaptations from games usually just don’t succeed like they should.
As a child of the PlayStation 2 generation, I was thrilled when I learned that a "Ratchet & Clank" film was in the works; contrary to my intro, I am not entirely opposed to the idea of film scripts based on games, provided that they use the game’s universe as a foundation on which to base original ideas rather than relying on references and wink-wink-nudge-nudge moments to keep the audience interested. What I am opposed to is a movie studio writing a script based on an existing property and not bothering to incorporate any of the story’s existing background. 'Ratchet & Clank' does exactly that, and this is made all the more frustrating by the fact that it was written in part by the writing staff of Insomniac Games, who have been responsible for the development of the series since its first entity was released in 2002.
Despite the dearth of interesting characters and the lukewarm plot offering enough fodder for a veritable criticism jamboree, that isn’t my goal today; the chief lesson this movie serves to teach is one of audience targeting, or, more importantly, how to choose the most appropriate audience to target. For a movie like "Ratchet & Clank," it should seem obvious who the film is intended to appeal to - children, probably in the 5 to 12 range. I say it should seem obvious, but honestly, I have no idea who this movie was made for; the groan-worthy humor, primarily based on slapstick and snarky-yet-hokey one-liners, is almost certainly meant to appeal to young children, which would be perfectly understandable if it weren’t for the fact that the first "Ratchet & Clank" title was released over a decade ago, before most of the target demographic for this film was even born.
“Oh, I’m so sorry they didn’t make a movie specifically for you to enjoy,” says the part of my brain that’s responsible for self-awareness and (apparently) sarcasm. In most situations like this, it would be absolutely correct; "Ratchet & Clank," isn’t exactly for me, so it’s not surprising that I didn’t enjoy it as much as, say, a ten-year-old might have. We’ve all found ourselves in a situation where this argument might apply—try it out next time you’re speaking to a grown adult that wants to complain about modern kids cartoons being stupid or Demi Lovato not tickling their musical fancy. Of course you don’t like those things, they aren’t for you.
I would buy this argument in relation to the film if the games had just been released in the last few years, but 2016 will mark 14 years since the release of the original PlayStation 2 title that launched the franchise. Who exactly do you think a film adaptation of a fourteen-year-old game should appeal to? If you answered “people that played the original game,” congratulations, that makes perfect sense. What doesn’t make sense is spending $20 million putting together a film adapted from a Sony legacy property replete with a dedicated fanbase and not making it appeal to literally the only people that care enough about "Ratchet & Clank," to want to see a film adaptation get produced in the first place.
“What makes you think you know better than the marketing department of a billion-dollar electronics titan, smart guy?” I hear as my self-awareness gland pipes up again. Well, for one thing, there’s the fact that since being released on April 29 the film has recouped less than half of its budget, then there’s the fact that—actually, no, the first thing basically answers that question.
Wait, did you want an actual review of the movie instead of its marketing strategy? Fine. It’s terrible, don’t see it. Do play the games, though, they’re great.
