So, I'm sure that my first post should be something about myself, a brief explanation of the title (hint: read some poetry), or something vaguely didactic about the purpose of the blog or anything that could be considered introductory.
Nah. I'm going to talk about video games. More importantly, I'm going to use this space, today, to talk about the video game that shaped my first impressions of an entire genre. I'm going to talk about Castlevania.
Now, there have been many and varied commentaries about the Castlevania series, including some rather famous ones by the Angry Video Game Nerd and other YouTube luminaries. Most of these have been about the genius of the first game, the failings of the second game, the controversy over the transition from linear action gaming to the Metroid-vania trappings of Symphony of the Night and the other Koji Igarashi titles, and snarky asides about the utter ruin of the 3D games during the late 90s. I'm not going to focus so much on those topics, as they have been examined thoroughly. I'll touch on them a bit, but my purpose is slightly different.
I suppose my fascination with Castlevania is something that ought to be qualified. I am a huge fan of many other video game series. I have devoted countless hours to Mario, Mega Man, Final Fantasy, The Elder Scrolls, Metroid, and even Zelda, which I have never really connected with on the level of some of my peers. However, there's something different about Castlevania, especially the early games. I could never quite put my finger on it. All I knew is that I loved it, played the original game, Simon's Quest, and Dracula's Curse for hour upon grueling, uncompromising hour not only as a child or teenager, but quite often as an adult as well. The common accolades of the early games have to do with the gothic atmosphere, expertly planned level design and the great music. YouTube artisan egoraptor has a great rundown on the advantages of the first game over the second, including rhapsodizing about the control and level design here.
While I agree that these elements contribute to a great game experience, the lure of the first Castlevania is not in its atmosphere, its music, or its control scheme. I contend that the longevity of the series, indeed its refusal to die, is rooted in the endurance of literature and the incredible courage of the game's original creators.
To adequately explain what I mean, consider the popular titles of the time. Super Mario Bros. and The Legend of Zelda were on top of the heap in 1987. Mega Man and Metroid were soon to come. All contain great gameplay, level design, and lasting backstories. What these games have in common is that they are original stories, born of the video game age, with no connection to previous works. Where Castlevania differs is that it is based on a previous work, and not any previous work, but Bram Stoker's Dracula.
It's easy to counter that this is not exactly rocket science. Dracula is an intellectual property that has been used more often than a rest stop toilet, and has been appropriated by as varied sources as Andy Warhol and Abbott and Costello. The original story of the novel has been twisted and modified unrecognizably by countless directors, authors and playwrights, and the title character has been played by innumerable actors, including Christopher Lee, Frank Langella, Klaus Kinski, Udo Kier, and, yes, Leslie Nielsen. Dracula, since the original scuffle over licensing between Stoker's widow and F.W. Murnau over royalties on what became Nosferatu, has preyed upon our natural fears of darkness and vulnerability in ever-changing forms.
What I've noticed about most expansions on the Dracula mythos is that they tend to linger on what happens after the events in Stoker's novel. Indeed, from the Hammer Horror films to Son of Dracula to Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein, the appearance of the Count tends to involve him rising from the grave to feed on the blood of the living in our century. Very few of them look into the most thrilling aspect of the novel, and, indeed, of most honest attempts at adapting the story to film: the castle, and its history.
What Castlevania dared to do, from the very first, was attempt to fill in what Count Dracula was doing before Jonathan Harker made his fateful journey to Transylvania in hopes of making his fortune as a real estate solicitor. And what the team at Konami decided was that the Count was very busy indeed, waging a centuries long war against mankind, and, in particular, the Belmont family, who were tasked to send him back to Hell every hundred years or so. In addition, Konami has always maintained that the Stoker novel is very definitely a part of the Castlevania timeline, though excessive Japanese influence on later titles has admittedly muddied the waters somewhat in this respect. More on that later.
When reading the novel, one gets the sense of deep forboding and danger surrounding Dracula's castle. Jonathan Harker is trapped in the castle and knows that he will soon be left as a meal for Dracula's vicious wives. The Count himself is portrayed as a wizened shadow of ancient glory, hungering for new environs, far away from the decay of his homeland, a decay for which he is largely responsible. Everything about the castle and the demeanor of the Count indicates a deep well of power and darkness that was once even more terrible. The genius of Castlevania, while playing to rather boyish interpretations of what ought to be present in the castle (Frankenstein and Igor? Really?) lies in the expansion of an already potent legend, tapping into unexplored possibilities that rested dormant in the stones of a crumbling castle.
The way that Castlevania began, and its continuing tale of a cursed land in Simon's Quest, is light years away from the ridiculous permutations of the Aria of Sorrow age, in which Dracula's castle appears due to an eclipse in Japan and involves a spirit vessel for Dracula... and I'm already bored. The point is that the original design was simple and alluring. The Belmont family is doomed to prevent Dracula from exerting his dark will on the people of Southern Europe, and armed with a whip and their wits, must venture into the castle to send him back to restless slumber for about a hundred years. The reason the story was set up this way was to appeal to fickle Western audiences, and thus, the scenario writing team attempted to use Western sources to mollify the target demographic. As time has gone by, and the Igarashi team has taken over, the 2D Castlevania games have taken on an increasingly Japanese bent, introducing anime elements and unnecessarily tangled plot contrivances. Linear progression has given way to open exploration (not dogging this aspect, just wondering if it's gotten out of control), and what worked in Symphony of the Night is becoming increasingly stale.
This is why I'm a big fan of the recently released Lords of Shadow. While other 3D efforts at making a Castlevania game have gone awfully awry, Lords of Shadow goes back to the original concept: Belmont with whip goes forward relentlessly to destroy evil. The formula is compelling and effective. As one reviewer (I believe this was Joystiq's review) noted, Castlevania is about being the only good guy in town, the only one with the stones to walk up and knock on Dracula's door.
I'm realizing this is getting prohibitively long, and I have much more to say. Guess this one's gonna be a multi-part series. Tune in next time.
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