Battle Royale Adaptations Are Missing What Made the Novel Great

First of all, it’s very important in Battle Royale that all of the characters are 15 years old, and that they’re in school together. In the world of the book, the government selects a classroom at random from somewhere in the country to participate in the death game; the kids don’t know what’s going on until it’s too late. And so, the book begins with all of them on a school bus, believing they’re on their way to a fun overnight class trip. The main character of the novel, Shuya, is considered one of the cutest boys in his class, but he’s endearingly oblivious to this; it’s always clear to the reader that tons of the girls in his class have a crush on him, but Shuya is only barely capable of picking up on it. This sense of sweet humanity is key to what makes the book work. Even once all of the kids have been dropped into a killing game on an island together, weapons forced into their hands and metal collars on their necks threatening to explode should they refuse to comply, these poor kids are still just hormonal 15-year-olds with crushes on each other and memories of the importance of the social cliques and school clubs they all used to take part in. 

In Battle Royale, the kids’ allegiances and alliances form according to these cliques; the teens continue to play their “roles,” just in a different setting. The book is at its best in its juxtaposition of the teens’ mundane memories of home and their past normal lives with the sudden terrifying situation they’re now in. Various students risk their lives just to have the chance to confess a years-long crush on someone. The kids recall memories of gym class mishaps or notes exchanged in class, minor grievances and gripes, all of which play a role in who they can and cannot trust. Rather than being a story about how these teens become somebody else when placed into this extreme killing game, Battle Royale instead emphasizes that they are who they are, and that being forced to murder doesn’t define any one of them. They are simply children, trying to exist and survive in a world that despises them and treats them as literally disposable. And again and again, Battle Royale humanizes their mundanities and quirks, thereby twisting the knife even more when each of them dies, one by one. In each case, you really do feel as though you know them.

The popular “mean girl” Mitsuko Souma, for example, ends up being just as terrifying as Regina George would be if she had a pistol and it was kill-or-be-killed. But also, Battle Royale includes several chapters explaining the dark childhood that led Mitsuko to become the terrifying queen bee of her school and murderous, two-faced betrayer of the killing game. You never root for her, but by the end, you understand her; you pity her.

Several of the kids in the book, especially Shuya, already have emerging political leanings and distrust of the government before the game begins. In Shuya’s case, the killing game quickly radicalizes him, and it’s easy for the reader to come along with him in his fury, and to feel fury at real-world governments that mistreat their people. Although Battle Royale depicts a very extreme situation, it’s easy to see parallels to countries that require young people to participate in military service programs that force them to kill other young people. It’s a story about how even if you do everything right, under a totalitarian regime, you could still be killed at any time for no reason. There is no actual way to win—unless you can somehow defeat the organizers of the game itself.

Some video games have attempted to adapt a story somewhat like this; the Danganronpa series comes to mind. It’s a visual novel series, also about high school students who are kidnapped and forced to participate in a killing game. But the difference is that Danganronpa is also a dark comedy, and furthermore, much of its story relies on the fact that its characters do not previously know each other, and trying to figure out why they’ve been selected is part of the plot. The result is more of a murder mystery with various story-heavy puzzles to solve; I love it, but it’s no Battle Royale. 

A video game version of Battle Royale could just be a visual novel adaptation of the book, sure, or even just a single-player cinematic experience in the style of a Naughty Dog game that follows the story of Shuya and his allies. But I wonder, still, if there’s some way to take the battle royale genre of game and make it into something that has at least some of the weight and humanity of the original book. Maybe it’s impossible—but there’s no denying the emotional power of a close match in a battle royale video game. What if there were also overarching themes and a story that lent even more strength to those feelings?

Either way, if you’ve been playing battle royale video games this whole time and you haven’t read the book that inspired the name of the mode, you’re missing out. It might ruin battle royale games for you. But it’ll be worth it.

Maddy Myers has worked as a video game critic and journalist since 2007; she has previously worked for Polygon, Kotaku, The Mary Sue, Paste Magazine, and the Boston Phoenix. She co-hosts a video game podcast called Triple Click, as well as an X-Men podcast called The Mutant Ages. When she is not writing or podcasting, she composes electro-pop music under the handle MIDI Myers. Her personal website is midimyers.com.