The Game Boy: Of Tomb Raider and “Torture Porn”

Watching one of gaming's most well-known faces plummet multiple stories and impale herself on a jagged iron pipe is an uncomfortable experience, to say the least. But wait, she's not done. Nearly sobbing, she proceeds to wrench her unfortunate new appendage from her side while emitting a skin-crawling scream. And that's just the beginning.
The first time I saw the latest Tomb Raider game in action, my heart nearly exploded out of my chest – probably in an effort to escape from the carnage. The rest of my body, meanwhile, wanted nothing more than to follow it. Lara Croft was in pain. Real pain. Blinding pain. Not “Rawr, me videogame character, me shrug off bullet to face like it tiny blind kitten baby” pain. It was ugly, dirty, and downright horrific. And it wouldn't stop happening. Lara constantly fell, slipped, and survived by clawing rocks until her fingernails were bloody scraps. The demo reveled in pain, said many pundits. It was “torture porn,” sharing a straightjacket with movies like SAW and the part of our brains that loves to stare at car wrecks.
I, however, disagree completely. Not only that, I think this is something the gaming industry could use a whole lot more of. Find out why after the break.
Modern games have all but turned the Grim Reaper into a teddy bear wearing a hood that just so happens to be made from your childhood safety blanket. Death's no longer scary – not in the slightest. After all, you'll just respawn at the last checkpoint or – if you're playing with save-anywhere features – two seconds before you died because you're probably afflicted with crippling Constant-Save OCD. Worse, we've successfully de-fanged the threat of death as well. Have you eaten one too many face-seeking missiles while charging headlong into battle? Just chill out behind a rock for a couple seconds and wait for the strawberry jam to disappear from your screen. Then it's just a matter of bellowing “3, 2, 1, 0! Look out, robo-Hitler and his army of giant shark-spiders, here I come!,” and skipping merrily into the fray.
Game characters lack vulnerability. And that's a damn shame, because it can be an incredibly powerful tension-building tool when used correctly. That's why Tomb Raider was so striking. That's why people didn't know how to classify it – why they lumped it in with Weird Mask McScaryDude and SAW's circus of cheap thrills. Tomb Raider's debut demo re-established the idea that a videogame character surrounded by blood-thirsty beasts and constant peril could be, you know, in mortal danger. It's like in many movies or TV series: You know the main character is going to survive, but you keep watching because it seems like they could bite the bullet at any given moment. Is it all an illusion? Sure. The best stories, though, can put the smoke-and-mirrors front-and-center, but it doesn't bug you for a second. You're already under their spell.