ARTICLE: HARRY BAYLEY’S ON CAPCOM’S MACHINIMA

In 1991, Capcom’s Resident Evil burst onto shelves, revolutionising the survival horror genre and spawning a multi-million dollar franchise. Now on its 8th installment, after a soft reboot in 2017, it has weathered the course of time, having both incredible commercial success and struggle.

The Resident Evil franchise is no stranger to spin-offs and adaptations, starting as early as 2000 with Resident Evil Survivor and perhaps the more well-known Paul W.S. Anderson's film adaptations (6 films from 2002 to 2016!). Anderson's adaptations, while entertaining, are a confusing slew of 6 films loosely tied together by a recurring cast of characters, with a mostly nonsensical plot (sorry, Paul).

Despite being by far the most famous, the Resident Evil film franchise is not the only cinematic venture Capcom undertook with the Resident Evil IP. The loosely named “Biohazard” collection is a series of Resident Evil titles bearing a keen resemblance to their gaming counterparts, imitating the look and feel of the games. The Biohazard series essentially retells and sometimes slightly reimagines the events of the mainline games. This retelling, paired with an uncanny aesthetic, creates an odd watching experience, watching these recognisable albeit unfamiliar, characters rehash the same (but different) actions you undertook in the games.

The Biohazard collection consists of: Biohazard 4-D Executer (2000), a 20-minute horror “experience” created for theme parks, Biohazard 4: Incubate (2006), a feature length version of RE:4, Resident Evil Degeneration (2008), which is essentially RE:2 but set in an airport, Resident Evil Damnation (2012), your run of the mill culturally insensitive take on a civil war in Eastern Europe and Resident Evil Vendetta (2017) a Leon and Chris foes-to-friend story which gives off a very similar impression to RE:6.

What I find particularly interesting about these productions is how the games' "experience” is translated to the screen and how one's experience of the game interacts with the film object. It is a rare case where the original developer of the source material is remediating the game into new, somewhat conflicting formats, creating a homage to their work.  While it can be easy to say that the purpose of these films is to merely squeeze profit out of a well-known IP, whether on purpose or not, they were innovative in their application of video game aesthetics in film to expand and retell aspects of the existing universe.

While Executer, Degeneration, Damnation and Vendetta are all original computer-animated films, Biohazard 4: Incubate is a fully fledged and studio-backed attempt at creating a machinima film. Biohazard 4: Incubate (and just Incubate from now on) was a made-for-DVD release made available shortly after the debut of Resident Evil 4 on the PlayStation 2. Incubate is a supercut of the different cutscenes from RE:4 intercut with gameplay footage to create a feature-length film.

Incubate is the earliest example I can find of a studio-sponsored machinima film, with the actual moments of gameplay may not be the focus, but they are sprinkled throughout. Moments where the controller is picked up and we watch as someone, unknown to the viewer, plays through the game.

While watching the cutscenes, moments flow from one to the next in a conventional fashion, edits are made to satisfy our aesthetic expectations, allowing us to predict what will happen next, using conventional cinematic language to set the tone and guide us throughout the story.

When switching to a machinimatic style, the spectatorial flow is interrupted as we, all of a sudden, can no longer predict what will happen next. The camera is disembodied from the proverbial tripod as we are now floating some 20 feet in the air above our central character, spectating his actions from a bird's eye view. We watch as the player model of Leon fumbles around the 3d environments, eventually navigating his way out and onto the next cutscene.

These moments are the most interesting within the film, as it highlights the material difference between films and games, interaction. What further complicates things is that despite the action being performed in front of you, taking the same position as if you are interacting with the object directly, you are still watching a film, one which is non-interactive. The presentation of an image associated with interactive gameplay, while being unable to physically play creates tension..

The image of gameplay almost jerking me awake, setting off a receptor somewhere in my brain, signalling that it is time to pick up the controller and play. For me, the spectating of these images that are reminiscent of play actively reengages me in the media, changing me from a passive to an active viewer, making me consider my gaming experience in relation to the image onscreen. Almost displacing me as a spectator between this moment of watching and the moment of play.

The intercutting between gameplay and cutscene is in contrast to both one's gaming experience (if you have played the game) and one's expectation of the film so far, what you are watching is different from the game and different from conventional film form.  Now you have a mix, a remediation of interactive gameplay, your memory, your own, and your expectations from the film.

At least for myself, experiencing cognitive dissonance, I began noticing more differences between the film and my own gameplay, how some cutscenes are left out, moments of gameplay sped up, and locations brought forward. Remapping RE:4 temporally in my mind, my memory of play and he experience of this film fighting against one another, while sharing an identical aesthetic. These moments of disidentification would happen throughout the film, almost shaking me awake with their visual out-of-place-ness. Then, just as quickly as this state is achieved, pre-rendered cutscenes return. Intermittent moments of machinima, intermittent moments of reflexivity.

This stylistic choice by Capcom is as innovative as it is interesting. It begs to question of who the audience is for this kind of production. If you have already played the game, what is it that draws you into watching the film?

As you too have been here, you too have experienced this moment before.

What are we looking for in machinima?

Ourselves?

This article was written by Harry Bayley

Harry Bayley is an artist and curator, blending his expertise in film and screen media with curatorial skills. His diverse experience, from designing CRM systems to curating film programs, reflects his commitment to enhancing audience engagement and his capability to handle both creative and logistical aspects of projects. Currently advancing his academic research in machinima film practice at Birkbeck University London, Bayley contributes to the arts community through his innovative approaches to curation and exhibition management. Bayley works and lives in London.