A whir, a pop, and then the head explodes. Ceases to exist, really. Ropy tendrils of gray-black goop spiral outwards from the point where the head used to be, and then the body falls heavily to the ground. Thereâs precious little time to think about what I just saw, because another enemy is headed my way.
Making orcsâ heads explode is the soggy climax of one of the first finishing moves I remember acquiring in Middle-Earth: Shadow of Mordor. The gratuity of its imagery complements how satisfying it feels to pull offâespecially in the middle of close-quarter combat against a seemingly endless sea of foes. See, I discovered I could make orcsâ heads vanish with the clench of Talionâs fist shortly after I unlocked an ability to stun bad guys by vaulting over them. This turned Mordorâs standard dodge move into a deadly offensive ability as well as a defensive maneuver. But only if itâs done right.
With the new dodge-and-stun combo, I can leap over a burly opponent with the press of the x button and watch as Talion gives him a swift kick that turned the monster bright blue for a moment, leaving him to shake his head in a dazed state. Thatâs the signal to strike. Provided I have enough of an opening, Iâll go in for the killâslashing at the stunned orc in rapid-fire succession. As the attack revs up in speed, Talionâs sword starts to make an alien gulping sound with every strike. A strong hum swells up over the course of a few seconds, until finally the camera zooms in for a close up of the two opponents. Talion places his fist just below the skull of the enemy heâs been pummeling. A low rumble, and then the moist pop.
Iâve performed this attack countless times. No matter how many times I do it, however, it still makes me jump. And not just me, either: part of the reason itâs an effective technique is that its ferocity shocks nearby combatants. They all take a step back away, stunned by what they just saw. How could they not be? One of their comradesâ heads just erupted intoâŠnothingness.
Mordorâs head-exploding animation reminds me of a moment early in Cormac McCarthyâs novel Blood Meridian when one of the main characters tests out a âhuge pistolâ by firing it at a stray cat. âThe explosion in that dead silence was enormous,â McCarthy writes. âThe cat simply disappeared. There was no blood or cry, it just vanished.â Both stories emphasize how totalizing violence is for the characters within. Brute force is a tool that overwhelms anything that comes before it, to the point where acts of aggression donât just kill another living thing, they remove their targets from existence entirely. Obviously, there are differences between the two scenes: beginning with the level of gore in each. But in comparison to the rich tapestry of most Lord of the Rings fiction, Shadow of Mordor often feels like it has more in common with an oppressively bleak and violent story like Blood Meridian than it does with Tolkienâs original workâor much of whatâs sprung from it. Does that make Shadow of Mordor a more narrowly limited story than some of its relatives? Maybe. But that doesnât change the fact that certain stories need to be violent, and excessively so, if theyâre to be told properly.
Comparing Mordor to Peter Jackonâs film trilogy, for instance, makes the game seem sparse and claustrophobically aggressive. There are no tranquil scenes with hobbits going about their business in this story, no animate trees waxing poetic about the magic of the forest, no lembas bread to savor. Just one human and many more orcs, all trying to kill each other every step of the way. But I think Mordor succeeds because of these very limitations. Itâs a game that only knows the language of violence. Itâs exceedingly fluent in that language. Like the best violent video games, it uses its gore with exceptional grace and purpose.
Thereâs one moment in Peter Jacksonâs third Lord of the Rings film, Return of the King, thatâs always stood out to meâespecially now, in light of Shadow of Mordor. Itâs at the beginning of the battle for Gondor, when Pippin wanders over to the ramparts and Gandalf rushes to defend him. In the process, the wizard lands a massive blow with his sword on an orcâs chest. And the orc justâŠfalls over.
No blood. No writhing around in pain. Nothing. Gandalf could have just as easily hit the orc with a wooden plank, rather than a broadsword. Maybe thatâs technically how a blow like that would have gone over in the real world. But for whatever reason, after I saw that, it made me reconsider Jacksonâs entire trilogy. For an epic saga that gives a ton of screen-time to humans and their human-like allies waging all-out war against gross-looking monsters sprung from the most scary places imaginable, the vast majority of its combat feels strangely bloodless. I know that itâs a story about good triumphing over evil, and a core part of that triumph comes from the fact that the main characters never let go of their ideals no matter how tough the going gets. But still: is it that crazy to expect that Gandalf the Whiteâs robe gets a littleâŠdirty in the process?
Middle-Earth: Shadow of Mordor doesnât just betray the squeaky-clean ideals of Tolkienâs best heroes. It flaunts that betrayal. The game has an unlockable ability called âbrutalizeâ that makes Talionâs stealth kills more, erm, brutal. Its combat could be sickening to behold, if it wasnât so physically gratifying every step of the way. Just watch this extended clip of me killing orc after orc and imagine what Gondor wouldâve looked like at the end of the showdown in Return of the King if Jackson had opted for more of a Quentin Tarantino vibe:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ww5cYfqcpgI
And this is just a random melee combat challenge I happened upon. Mordorâs main story compels you to do plenty of other things that are equally guttural and sloppy. Talionâs enemies are more than happy to return the favor whenever they can. There are the ranked orcs and uruk-hai that challenge him incessantly. Failing to meet that challenge usually means that Talion ends up lying on the ground with a few different weapons sticking out of him like a fleshy pin cushion. Beating your nemesis orcs back, meanwhile, either means that you have to squarely execute them or risk seeing them return in a newly mangled form. Achieving a proper execution thus requires Talion to decapitate his targets or do something similarly gnarly. Suffice to say: if you play Shadow of Mordor, youâll be seeing a lot of this:
âŠbut the thing is: youâll be relieved every time you see it. Because it only arrives after tense bouts of pitched combat between you and a gang of orcs, replete with its own moments of orgiastic gore:
Ok, you get the idea. Crazy, right? But thatâs the point. Talion is one man facing off against endless waves of bad guys behind enemy lines. Heâs a soldier by nature. He doesnât need to wait for someone else to sow chaos in order to pass through Mordor, like Frodo and Sam do in their journey. He brings about chaos himself.
The Game Knows What It Is
Mordor isnât just a violent game. Itâs also the kind of game that unequivocally enjoys its violence. There are few, if any, moments in Mordorâs storyline that encourage either the player or Talion to own up to all the horrible stuff heâs doing to his opponents. If anything, the game invites its players to relish the punishments theyâre inflicting upon the orcs. At one point early in the campaign, for instance, Talion is assigned a mission that involves poisoning an entire orc encampment by sneaking around and slipping toxic ingredients into their grog. Talion responds to the directive with a quip about how much heâll enjoy seeing the end result. Spoiler alert: itâs pretty gross.
Am I, the player, supposed to feel gross in turn? Mordor stands out to me as I play it because it seems soâŠunconcerned with the implications of all its blood and gore. There are no BioShock-like moments where the game turns itself on its head to reveal that all the orc-killing was done with a misguided sense of purpose. No Spec Ops: The Line-esque loading screens that ask you âHow many orcs have you killed today?â Even if there were, itâd probably be a way to egg you on to go and kill more.
I appreciate that Shadow of Mordor celebrates its own excess, however. The game takes an unflinching look at its own conception of combat, one that refuses to shy away from the baser instincts that warfare gives rise to. And make no mistake: warfare is whatâs unfolding in Mordor. It might not be at the same epic scale as The Two Towers or Return of the King, but the game makes its moral standards clear from the outset. The orcs are the bad guys here, because theyâre servants of the villains in Mordor. If they have any redeeming qualities, itâs that theyâre occasionally petty and self-interested rather than devoutly loyal to Sauron and his inner circle.
Like the best violent video games, it uses its gore with exceptional grace and purpose.
Itâs important to emphasize the core evilness of Mordorâs orcs, even in comparison to other pieces of Lord of the Rings fiction, because otherwise Iâm not sure the gameâs hyperbole would sit so well with me. It certainly hasnât with others. Writing for The Verge, Chris Plante bemoaned Shadow of Mordorâs âmorally repulsiveâ obsession with punishing orcs: âThis is a video game about a spurned man terrorizing an entire foreign culture, literally killing, branding, torturing and enslaving hundreds of living beings.â
I donât accept Planteâs characterization, because I donât think itâs what players are meant to see in Mordorâs orc community. This is a game about going behind enemy lines. At most, the areas youâre infiltrating are militarized outposts populated entirely by bad guys. Passing by an orc patrol undetected, I often heard orcs whining to one another by saying things like âWhy do slaves always beg for their lives?â or, âItâs been a day since I cut someoneâs head off!â
Mordorâs higher-level opponents, meanwhile, come at you with a mixture of menace and boyish humor. They have names like Kaka Giggles and Skoth the Dumb. They taunt with you hilariously blunt proclamations like, âNow I inflict the pain!â That is: until you manage to beat them back. And then they beg for mercy with silly quips like: âDonât kill me! I would die from that!â If this is a veritable âforeign culture,â itâs one entirely made up of locker room bullies and aspiring pro wrestlers.
Thereâs something refreshing about visiting a world like Mordorâsâone where good and evil are so clearly separated that you can always tell whether someone is a friend or foe by simply assessing the quality of his teeth. As we observed last week, Shadow of Mordor is cut from a similar cloth as the Batman: Arkham series in this regard. Talion attacks his enemies with an identical rhythm and meter as Batman does in those games. But much like Gandalf in Return of the King, Batmanâs aggression and high-mindedness donât always mix well together. As the critic Tom Bissell pointed out in an essay about Arkham City: âpunching someone in the spine as hard as you are capable of punching someone does not strike me as the modus operandi of a man with any particular interest in preserving human life.â
The fighting in Mordor feels just as visceral and rewarding as it does in the Arkham games. But just being able to see blood spurt out of all the bad guys Iâm pounding away at makes the Lord of the Rings counterpart ring more trueâto its gameplay, if not its lore. Iâm not much of a Batman fan, after all, but the guyâs moralism has always struck me as a nifty way to explain why his archrivals keep coming back to challenge him again and again.
Your enemies do that in Shadow of Mordor, too, thanks to the weird way that Talion and his enemiesâ immortality breaks the gameâs fourth wall. But if nothing else, I love that this game has enough courage in its convictions to accept that Talion is using a sword to mete out his punishments, and make those punishments feel appropriately bloody in turn.
âNow I inflict the pain!â one boss might shout. On its own, that might sound self-serious and scary. But then thereâs always another orc just around the corner. One of my personal favorites has always reminded me of my missteps: âIâve lived a long time,â he might say. âYouâve lived many times. That tells me one of us is careless enough to die.â
Itâs a threat, sure. But itâs also an invitation to get back up off the ground and try again. Because at the end of the day, I think these orcs just want to have fun with you. And fun is what Shadow of Mordor is, above anything else.
To contact the author of this post, write to [email protected] or find him on Twitter at @YannickLeJacq