Broforce: Bad Politics and Worse Satire
I wanted to like Broforce. That statement is equal parts disclaimer and grievance. The game is a Contra-style run ‘n’ gun with a twist: Its roster is (mostly) based off of action heroes from the 80s, like John Rambo, John McClane and B.A. Baracus. Sounds pretty cool—and a lot of people seem to think so, as the game has gained a lot of traction on Steam Early Access.
But Broforce’s confused politics lead me to worry about the final product. See, the action heroes in Broforce are banded together in an effort to fight terrorism and preserve the ‘Murican way of life. In the process, they slaughter foreigners by the thousands.
I like action movies, and I’m not sure how Broforce wants me to feel about that. It seems to suggest that I’m a fatheaded bro who lacks the capacity to consider American neocolonialism. And that may seem like a big word to drop into a game with playable characters like “Rambro” and “Brobocop;” but picture a game in which Indiana Jones—“Indianna Brones,” here—savagely beheads several misguided insurgents in an unspecified third world country. Seems pretty far off from his typical pastime of punching Nazis in the face.
Broforce’s description on Steam reads:
“When evil threatens the world, the world calls on Broforce—an under-funded, over-powered paramilitary organization dealing exclusively in excessive force. Brace your loins with up to four players to run ‘n’ gun as dozens of different bros and eliminate the opposing terrorist forces that threaten our way of life.”
At the risk of sounding like a Fox News pundit: Am I the only one who’s worn out on anti-America shtick? And at the risk of sounding like a buzzkill: Am I also the only one who’s worn out on 1980s nostalgia? Both have become shortcuts for any developer with a dearth of ideas. Mock America to get an easy pass with the young liberal crowd, and claim affection for a beloved genre or time period to milk the “niche” nostalgic market. Whether or not you have anything to say doesn’t matter any more, so long as it’s tongue-in-cheek. With Broforce, FreeLives’ figurative tongue is so deep in there that gibberish is all they can muster.
On a purely mechanical level, Broforce is a good deal of fun—but I can’t help but feel unsettled with what the game encourages me do and expects me to laugh at. My father is a Cuban expatriate; I still have a handful of relatives living on an impoverished island. Here is a game that rewards me, with bonus points and colorful animations, for butchering little cartoon versions of people like my relatives. Early in my playthrough, I unlocked a new character; I hit the “grenade” button to try out his special ability. He promptly tossed a roasted chicken tied to a stick of dynamite. My enemies clamored around it, because they’re starving; when it detonated, their heads flew off like blood-filled bottle rockets. In a new trailer demonstrating gameplay updates, a square-jawed general with a cigar boasts: “Shoddy third-world construction is our ally! Bring it down and watch the bodies crumble!”
I try to get through the levels without killing any “terrorists,” but it’s nigh impossible, and the inclusion of boss battles means I have to kill them at one point or another anyway. And besides, the game gives me a higher score for killing as many of them as I can, in the most inventive ways I can dream up; at the end of every level, the game tallies up your score by lining up each enemy you killed in a little dialogue box, where their deaths are rapidly reenacted and your points are added up. FreeLives think they’re making a joke about America, but the victimized third world is the punchline.
Broforce started as a Ludum Dare submission named “Rambros,” which was a deathmatch between four identical Stallones. With the help of Kickstarter money, it grew into a “bro-op” action platformer—Contra by way of Fez, more or less—with the same satirical sensibility as any middle schooler who saw Team America: World Police back in ‘04. Everything explodes, and the BroForce logo features an eagle with beefy human arms taken from a Bowflex ad.
Or Broflex, I guess. How sick you are of bro puns by the end of this write-up should indicate whether or not this game is for you.
That FreeLives lauds the very genre it mocks isn’t an inherent problem. It’s entirely possible to satirize something you love. Edgar Wright did it three times. The trick is in skewering the failings of the subject while using its more positive aspects to support a humorous and optimistic purpose. Doing that effectively requires an extensive knowledge of the subject.