It’s incredibly hard to find an adaptation that actually improves upon its source material rather than diluting it in an attempt to reach another audience. Examples of stories that managed to thrive in another medium might include David Fincher’s Fight Club, Spawn: The Animated Series and even Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining (I adore Stephen King, but we all have to admit this at some point). However, one of my favorite examples of this decidedly rare phenomenon is 2007’s underrated FPS classic, The Darkness.
A little while back, The Darkness II was available for free on Steam, and since I had never gotten around to playing it, I jumped on the opportunity. While it’s an undoubtedly fun game, the shift in narrative direction soon left me tempted to revisit its predecessor, as I was curious to see if it would still hold up after all these years. Now, writing this article, I’m excited to say that the answer is a definitive hell, yes!
Based on a lesser-known Top Cow Comics property, the game differs heavily from the original Darkness stories, which could accurately be summed up as an unholy amalgamation of Spawn and Witchblade. Full of 90s excess and familiar plots, these comics were a fun diversion, but no one expected much out of an adaptation, let alone that one might elevate interactive storytelling as a whole.
While the team at Starbreeze Studios ultimately stayed true to the over-the-top action and horrific themes of the source material, in translating the tale to an interactive medium, they also took the liberty of adding three elements that no one could have predicted: depth, subtlety and realism.
I’m a sucker for storytelling in games, and, luckily for me, the horror genre has always dominated gaming when it comes to narrative. Maybe the deliberate pacing of horror stories make them a natural fit for slower gameplay, or perhaps the decreased budgetary demands make it easier to focus more time and money on a polished script, but whatever the case, it’s generally agreed that scary franchises like Silent Hill and The Last of Us represent some of the best stories that the medium has to offer.
This is art, I swear!
The Metal Gear saga was arguably one of the only non-horror (though it has its fair share of horrific moments) franchises that focused on deeper narratives, though it appears that this is no longer the case. Of course, this is yet another reason why Hideo Kojima’s canceled Silent Hills project is still so damned frustrating four years later, but that’s another can of worms altogether.
Nevertheless, I admit that I didn’t originally purchase The Darkness because it seemed like a groundbreaking emotional experience. I bought it because it sounded metal as f*** having Mike Patton encourage you to eat your enemy’s hearts while you dual-wielded guns and commanded hellish minions, blasting your way through legions of Italian mobsters. I guess it’s safe to say that, not only wasn’t I disappointed, I was also shocked by how seriously the developers took what could easily have become yet another silly excuse for dismembering virtual bad guys.
The game’s plot revolves around a mafia hitman named Jackie Estacado, who’s targeted by his boss and adoptive uncle on the eve of his 21st birthday. Luckily (or not), Jackie is saved by the manifestation of the titular Darkness, a mysterious demonic force that’s been passed down his family for generations. Granted unimaginable power so long as he stays out of the light, our hero begins to dismantle the organization that betrayed him, murdering countless criminals and putting himself and his innocent girlfriend Jenny in the crossfire.
From here, the game becomes a wild roller-coaster ride, forcing the player down both a literal and figurative underworld, all the while dealing with themes of love, loss and redemption. It’s downright amazing how the game plays around with the inherent symbolism behind Jackie’s condition as the new host of the Darkness, extracting genuine drama from what began as nothing more than a poor man’s Spawn.
The game actually makes a point of taunting the player as you continue on your seemingly justified rampage, acknowledging that, with each horrific murder, you take another step towards total consumption by the Dark forces within you. While all the carnage and Godfather-meets-The Evil Dead action sequences are all good fun, the game truly shines during the quieter moments, setting up Jackie’s backstory as an orphan and his tragic relationship with the angelic Jenny.
In one memorable sequence early in the game, commonly cited as one of the best in gaming history, Jackie celebrates his birthday with Jenny in her cheap little apartment, relishing in one of the few moments of genuine peace that he’s allowed in this new life as a (quite literally) cursed man. As he sits with the love of his life, unable or unwilling to confess what’s really going on, To Kill a Mockingbird starts playing on television, and the game allows you to watch the movie in its entirety as Jenny embraces our ill-fated protagonist.
Even the level transitions are weirdly charming.
Sweet moments like these are what truly make The Darkness a great game. Hard-hitting emotional beats, often enhanced by the first-person perspective, help to contextualize the extreme violence present in the shootouts, though the game still manages to have fun bathing in blood, guts and general gruesomeness. It also helps that the game’s condensed version of New York City feels incredibly fleshed out, despite its limited size.
Random television screens will play complete episodes of old shows and music videos, while civilians will approach you with their own peculiar side stories, making you believe that this is a living, breathing world, and that your actions have consequences. The game also features one of my favorite depictions of ‘hell’ in media, portraying it as a barren landscape locked in perpetual World-War-I inspired combat, complete with otherworldly torture and horrific demons.
Essentially, by taking the material seriously and focusing on the pillars of good storytelling, Starbreeze Studios elevated a trashy (though admittedly entertaining) 90s comic book into an interactive Greek Tragedy. The Darkness may not be a perfect game, as there are a few instances of frustrating level design, and you eventually get too powerful to feel anything even remotely resembling a challenge, but newer games (and even other media) should still take note of its ballsy approach to storytelling and adaptation.
Honestly, just writing this made me feel like playing the game again, and I recommend that you do the same. I mean, when there’s a game mechanic rewarding you for consuming the still-beating hearts of your enemies while their friends run away screaming in fear, what more could you really want?
