Bollywood RPGs
The partition of the world into east and west is perhaps not a division induced by the prime meridian alone. Western culture often associated with the Renaissance and the Enlightenment, has traditionally symbolised development, wealth and prosperity. The East however, is a far more complex beast, with its many shapes and forms, each evolved through seemingly independent sociological mechanisms. It is hence an arduous task to draw connections between artefacts of culture that stem from different regions in this sphere of the world. And yet somehow these connections do seem to exist.
During my time as a reporter, I interviewed the lead singer of a local band in Delhi, called ‘Moscow’. The highlight of that short interview was when she told me that several bands in Delhi’s growing Indie scene, drew inspiration from Japanese culture, particularly anime.
Named in the image of its older Western counterpart, Bollywood produces nearly 1000 films a year, twice that of Hollywood. It is impossible not to smell a Bollywood film from miles in the distance. Extravagance, music, and an insatiable flare for drama, all combine to create imagery far removed from reality. Bollywood films are not merely glorifications of the ordinary; they are alternate depictions of reality itself.
Love is of course a repetitive theme in all artistic expression throughout history. But the version of this emotion that finds depiction in Bollywood holds its own. It is the sort of love that is trying its very best to be loud, in many cases for no apparent reason. Familial values is another resonant theme. Furthermore, these two aspects are almost always expressed in conflict of each other. Look no further than Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, etc. for an exemplification of this conflict. However, this conflict is only a singular case in a theme that is definitive of all Bollywood cinema - struggle. At first glance, this may seem a prerequisite to any narrative structure; but as with love, the nature of the depicted struggle is of a very specific kind. Unlike most of Western cinema (I apologise for painting with an exceptionally large brush), the conflict does not take place within an environment, but rather the struggle is with the environment itself.
Battles against corruption and depictions of poverty are quite commonplace and obvious manifestations of this struggle. Even conflicts engendered by familial values can be traced back to a collectivistic culture, where it is family and not the individual that is the indivisible unit of society. In ‘Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara’, a young protagonist takes off on a sole searching expedition with his two best friends to resolve his circumstantial marriage. On a similar vein, ‘3 Idiots’ is a film which rebukes a tremendously exam-centric education system that subverts creativity. ‘PK’ makes mockery of organized religion with propaganda. In all of these cases, the conflicts are depicted as circumstantial, but in reality they are voices of dissent to cultural establishments.
When the magnitude of the struggle involved is such, it seems almost inevitable that the protagonist be deified and raised to a pedestal, for how can an ordinary citizen overthrow an entire system. Bollywood protagonists are invariably bourgeois heroes battling the suffrage inflicted upon them. And so the narrative structure demands extravagance, reinforced through pomp, colour and music.
At this juncture, it becomes impossible to turn a blind eye to another cultural artefact, far removed from Bollywood and India through land and sea, yet demonstrating remarkably similar characteristics.
The notion of role playing games evolved in both the west and east nearly simultaneously, and perhaps even more remarkably, independent of one another. The ‘J’RPG is a brand of its own. Like Bollywood, JRPGs are visual spectacles replete with fantastical characters vested with tremendous responsibility and power, fighting battles of extraordinary magnitude. The ‘Final Fantasy’ (the very name bolsters the point I am trying to make!) franchise epitomizes the JRPG. In FF10 chosen summoners embark on a voyage to defeat an immortal beast that continuously respawns, keeping intact a ‘spiral of death’. In FF13, Lightning and her ragtag team of misfits disobey their ‘Falcie’ omnipotent masters in an attempt to rewrite their preordained destinies. In Lightning Returns, the primary antagonist is God himself/herself (the entity looks rather gender neutral!)
The argument stands to be made that the video game format inherently promotes the glorification of protagonists. Unlike cinema, where the viewer is passively receiving visuals, video games place the player in the protagonist’s shoes. Thus, the virtue of an extraordinary protagonist serves as a direct reward mechanism for the player. And yet, what makes characters from ‘W’ (Western) RPGs extraordinary is their achievements within plot. A logical link traces who they are to how they came to be. On the contrary, JRPG characters are extraordinary by virtue of themselves. They truly are the ‘Chosen One’s’ battling the Matrix.
It is clear to me that the differences between ‘W’ (Western) RPGs and JRPGs is an exact equivalence to the differences between Hollywood and Bollywood. The WRPG places emphasis on the envisioned ‘world’ (eg: Skyrim) with the protagonist a mere player navigating the envisioned complexities of the world itself. The element of ‘fun’ stems from the protagonist’s interaction with the world. On the contrary, the element of fun in JRPGs stem from battle systems and narrative, which is the dominant aspect of the game. The plot carries the game through, and the characters navigate the world in order to further the story. An exemplification of the same is the role of side quests in these games. In games like Skyrim and Dragon Age, the player needs to spend at least 60-70% of his gameplay time executing side quests, which are often more entertaining than the main story line. On the contrary, side quests in JRPGs take the form of mini-games and special beast hunts, generally unrelated to the main story line which is the main stay.
The emphasis on narrative in JRPGs also manifests in the identity of the protagonists. In WRPGs customization of character appearance is an integral part of the user experience. This means that the game must accommodate for different character visuals, both from a technical standpoint within the narrative structure. On the other hand JRPGs freeze character art early in the development cycle, instead opting to tell their stories through exquisitely beautiful cut scenes.
And yet even with this extensive focus on narrative, these characters tend to be tremendously uni-dimensional, both physically and emotionally; and it is here that the resemblance with Bollywood truly becomes noticeable. In terms of physicality, they tend to be exquisitely beautiful youthful sculpted creatures. Their identities are inherently tied to plot; indeed the plot seems to be built around the characters themselves, in order to accentuate their qualities. But these qualities usually disintegrate into representing a single emotion, which is the sole defining factor for the character’s motives and behaviour. Their very existence outside the context of the current plot is difficult to envisage.
However, the most defining similarity stares you straight in the face. The epic struggles of these young stars and starlets do not take place within an environment, but rather the struggle is with the environment itself. So how is it, that two vastly different mediums have come to exhibit such remarkable similarities? The answer, I believe, lies at the very heart of these two nation’s people.
Underneath constructed stories of heritage and richness of culture, there lies a simple truth. Amidst a burgeoning economy, India remains a nation of the disempowered. To quote poverty statistics here, would be to reduce this message to the most redundant of clichés. However, it would be foolish to deny the impact poverty has not only on its direct victims, but also on those far removed from it. The fabric of Indian bourgeois values – hard work, strong familial ties, securing one’s future are all glaring appearances of a suffocating fear. A fear that a failure to uphold these values, will result in the individual joining the ranks of those that wander the streets, helpless and deprived. And so the rigger to champion these values subverts any attempt at self-actualization. The heroes of Bollywood are simply expressions of hidden desires to break free from these unseen chains.
I cannot of course, speak as intimately of Japanese culture. However, similar tell-tale signs all exist. Japan’s economy exploded in the early 60s and continued steady growth until the late 80s. In the centre of this phase of expansion, a curious phrase found its way into the Japanese vocabulary. The phrase was called ‘Karoshi’ and it literally translates to “death from overwork”. This absurd self-explanatory phenomenon has continued to grow and is now worse than ever due the economic slowdown in the 90s and subsequent rise of youth unemployment. The rise of JRPGs coincide sharply with the growth and decline of Japan’s economy. This is of course not to suggest a direct causal relationship between the two. However, as an external observer, when I watch a cut scene of Lightning overthrowing her ordained masters, it’s hard not to draw the connection to destabilizing rigidly established hierarchies.
And my mind now traces back to the singer that I interviewed. Raised in the capital of India, yet daring to claim influences by Japanese anime. A world of convergence, fuelled by millions and millions of hyperlinked pages, is now upon us. A world where cultures can interact and influence each other freely, undeterred by space and time. What curious artefacts will we create when seemingly disparate elements come in contact with each other? Perhaps, on an ominously fateful day, we might actually experience a Bollywood RPG!
During my time as a reporter, I interviewed the lead singer of a local band in Delhi, called ‘Moscow’. The highlight of that short interview was when she told me that several bands in Delhi’s growing Indie scene, drew inspiration from Japanese culture, particularly anime.
Named in the image of its older Western counterpart, Bollywood produces nearly 1000 films a year, twice that of Hollywood. It is impossible not to smell a Bollywood film from miles in the distance. Extravagance, music, and an insatiable flare for drama, all combine to create imagery far removed from reality. Bollywood films are not merely glorifications of the ordinary; they are alternate depictions of reality itself.
Love is of course a repetitive theme in all artistic expression throughout history. But the version of this emotion that finds depiction in Bollywood holds its own. It is the sort of love that is trying its very best to be loud, in many cases for no apparent reason. Familial values is another resonant theme. Furthermore, these two aspects are almost always expressed in conflict of each other. Look no further than Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, etc. for an exemplification of this conflict. However, this conflict is only a singular case in a theme that is definitive of all Bollywood cinema - struggle. At first glance, this may seem a prerequisite to any narrative structure; but as with love, the nature of the depicted struggle is of a very specific kind. Unlike most of Western cinema (I apologise for painting with an exceptionally large brush), the conflict does not take place within an environment, but rather the struggle is with the environment itself.
Battles against corruption and depictions of poverty are quite commonplace and obvious manifestations of this struggle. Even conflicts engendered by familial values can be traced back to a collectivistic culture, where it is family and not the individual that is the indivisible unit of society. In ‘Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara’, a young protagonist takes off on a sole searching expedition with his two best friends to resolve his circumstantial marriage. On a similar vein, ‘3 Idiots’ is a film which rebukes a tremendously exam-centric education system that subverts creativity. ‘PK’ makes mockery of organized religion with propaganda. In all of these cases, the conflicts are depicted as circumstantial, but in reality they are voices of dissent to cultural establishments.
When the magnitude of the struggle involved is such, it seems almost inevitable that the protagonist be deified and raised to a pedestal, for how can an ordinary citizen overthrow an entire system. Bollywood protagonists are invariably bourgeois heroes battling the suffrage inflicted upon them. And so the narrative structure demands extravagance, reinforced through pomp, colour and music.
At this juncture, it becomes impossible to turn a blind eye to another cultural artefact, far removed from Bollywood and India through land and sea, yet demonstrating remarkably similar characteristics.
The notion of role playing games evolved in both the west and east nearly simultaneously, and perhaps even more remarkably, independent of one another. The ‘J’RPG is a brand of its own. Like Bollywood, JRPGs are visual spectacles replete with fantastical characters vested with tremendous responsibility and power, fighting battles of extraordinary magnitude. The ‘Final Fantasy’ (the very name bolsters the point I am trying to make!) franchise epitomizes the JRPG. In FF10 chosen summoners embark on a voyage to defeat an immortal beast that continuously respawns, keeping intact a ‘spiral of death’. In FF13, Lightning and her ragtag team of misfits disobey their ‘Falcie’ omnipotent masters in an attempt to rewrite their preordained destinies. In Lightning Returns, the primary antagonist is God himself/herself (the entity looks rather gender neutral!)
The argument stands to be made that the video game format inherently promotes the glorification of protagonists. Unlike cinema, where the viewer is passively receiving visuals, video games place the player in the protagonist’s shoes. Thus, the virtue of an extraordinary protagonist serves as a direct reward mechanism for the player. And yet, what makes characters from ‘W’ (Western) RPGs extraordinary is their achievements within plot. A logical link traces who they are to how they came to be. On the contrary, JRPG characters are extraordinary by virtue of themselves. They truly are the ‘Chosen One’s’ battling the Matrix.
It is clear to me that the differences between ‘W’ (Western) RPGs and JRPGs is an exact equivalence to the differences between Hollywood and Bollywood. The WRPG places emphasis on the envisioned ‘world’ (eg: Skyrim) with the protagonist a mere player navigating the envisioned complexities of the world itself. The element of ‘fun’ stems from the protagonist’s interaction with the world. On the contrary, the element of fun in JRPGs stem from battle systems and narrative, which is the dominant aspect of the game. The plot carries the game through, and the characters navigate the world in order to further the story. An exemplification of the same is the role of side quests in these games. In games like Skyrim and Dragon Age, the player needs to spend at least 60-70% of his gameplay time executing side quests, which are often more entertaining than the main story line. On the contrary, side quests in JRPGs take the form of mini-games and special beast hunts, generally unrelated to the main story line which is the main stay.
The emphasis on narrative in JRPGs also manifests in the identity of the protagonists. In WRPGs customization of character appearance is an integral part of the user experience. This means that the game must accommodate for different character visuals, both from a technical standpoint within the narrative structure. On the other hand JRPGs freeze character art early in the development cycle, instead opting to tell their stories through exquisitely beautiful cut scenes.
And yet even with this extensive focus on narrative, these characters tend to be tremendously uni-dimensional, both physically and emotionally; and it is here that the resemblance with Bollywood truly becomes noticeable. In terms of physicality, they tend to be exquisitely beautiful youthful sculpted creatures. Their identities are inherently tied to plot; indeed the plot seems to be built around the characters themselves, in order to accentuate their qualities. But these qualities usually disintegrate into representing a single emotion, which is the sole defining factor for the character’s motives and behaviour. Their very existence outside the context of the current plot is difficult to envisage.
However, the most defining similarity stares you straight in the face. The epic struggles of these young stars and starlets do not take place within an environment, but rather the struggle is with the environment itself. So how is it, that two vastly different mediums have come to exhibit such remarkable similarities? The answer, I believe, lies at the very heart of these two nation’s people.
Underneath constructed stories of heritage and richness of culture, there lies a simple truth. Amidst a burgeoning economy, India remains a nation of the disempowered. To quote poverty statistics here, would be to reduce this message to the most redundant of clichés. However, it would be foolish to deny the impact poverty has not only on its direct victims, but also on those far removed from it. The fabric of Indian bourgeois values – hard work, strong familial ties, securing one’s future are all glaring appearances of a suffocating fear. A fear that a failure to uphold these values, will result in the individual joining the ranks of those that wander the streets, helpless and deprived. And so the rigger to champion these values subverts any attempt at self-actualization. The heroes of Bollywood are simply expressions of hidden desires to break free from these unseen chains.
I cannot of course, speak as intimately of Japanese culture. However, similar tell-tale signs all exist. Japan’s economy exploded in the early 60s and continued steady growth until the late 80s. In the centre of this phase of expansion, a curious phrase found its way into the Japanese vocabulary. The phrase was called ‘Karoshi’ and it literally translates to “death from overwork”. This absurd self-explanatory phenomenon has continued to grow and is now worse than ever due the economic slowdown in the 90s and subsequent rise of youth unemployment. The rise of JRPGs coincide sharply with the growth and decline of Japan’s economy. This is of course not to suggest a direct causal relationship between the two. However, as an external observer, when I watch a cut scene of Lightning overthrowing her ordained masters, it’s hard not to draw the connection to destabilizing rigidly established hierarchies.
And my mind now traces back to the singer that I interviewed. Raised in the capital of India, yet daring to claim influences by Japanese anime. A world of convergence, fuelled by millions and millions of hyperlinked pages, is now upon us. A world where cultures can interact and influence each other freely, undeterred by space and time. What curious artefacts will we create when seemingly disparate elements come in contact with each other? Perhaps, on an ominously fateful day, we might actually experience a Bollywood RPG!
