And, of course, she is always on her enemy’s turf. Knowledge of basic mechanical conceits may carry over, but she is forced to imbibe and comprehend an unfamiliar setting. Level upon level, she arrives in new and exotic places. Further considered, Blood Money’s variety of locations and targets is conducive to creating in the player an assonant frame of mind. When first playing Blood Money, one may simply marvel at creator IO Interactive’s willing and ability to create distinct and disparate levels-here is a rare example of a game-maker reluctant to recycle textures, enemy designs, and other videogame assets. Players consistently think and behave like their character Blood Money’s “art style,” its many strange characters and unique locations, are designed to make players feel as if they, too, are an outsider. Nor does he have access to human emotions-specifically, he was bred to be an efficient murderer, and so feels no remorse and no guilt, and does not develop attachment to people. Agent 47, the player character, is a human clone: comprised of various people’s DNA, and developed in a laboratory, he is not a person, in the true sense of the word. They are more colorful, more complex, more idiosyncratic-your targets at the vineyard are simply drug dealers at Mardi Gras, they are a married pair of assassins disguised as giant crows.Īffectations such as these (the pedophile opera singer, killed on stage after the player swaps his prop pistol for the genuine item is another) are often understood as exemplifying Blood Money’s “art style” or its “humor.” But they are more than simple flourishes. The rehab clinic, the Heaven and Hell party, the Mardi Gras parade, and the Playboy mansion-style mountaintop soirée are much more elaborately designed. The sense of being an interloper, inhabiting a space that is alien which can only be successfully traversed if one pays close attention, is felt more strongly in Blood Money’s other sections. The vineyard, steamboat, wedding, and White House levels take place in locations that are familiar to us due to the prevalence of their real life counterparts-the enemies are merely gangsters, cops and soldiers, housed in recognizable architecture. Considering Blood Money’s central character is a sociopathic, inhuman murderer, that is no small feat-the game-makers achieve it by making the player always feel as if they are an invader.īlood Money’s weakest missions are its most normal. To put it simply, this is a game where, without realizing, players consistently think and behave like their character. Anyone searching for answers to the question of ludonarrative dissonance (I have no idea why that term has become a joke, or why people are skittish about using it) would do well to play Hitman: Blood Money. Surreptitiously, Blood Money motivates players to think and act in ways that compliment its creators’ vision. It’s a game that encourages players to take concomitant responsibility for keeping its story and tone cohesive.
It values its players’ intelligence and attention above their enjoyment, and certainly above their egos. Hitman: Blood Money (2006) is not sycophantic. We must be provided with the necessary equipment and navigational tools so as not to become stuck (or even face considerable challenge), and regularly patted on the back, told that we are good, that we are the hero-we must know that it is our actions, and what we choose, that matters most. We, the players, must always be comfortable. An arsenal of science-fiction weaponry ensures our safety. On-screen objective markers tell us where to go. And yet, we master our surroundings, and our enemies within them, entirely. Their stories, almost always, involve Western troops on top secret missions behind enemy lines-myself and my AI squad mates are supposed to be interlopers, constantly vulnerable amid a foreign, hostile environment.
War games have consistently failed at making me feel like an invader.