Scott Pilgrim vs. The World: Of Love and Toxic Masculinity
Edcel Javier Cintron Gonzalez
The month of February offers different reasons for people to mobilize and take action. It’s a month to celebrate friendships, love interests, and apparently for 2021, a month where a lot of games are being released! I enjoy the capitalist aspects of Valentine’s Day, such as buying chocolates at half price after February 14th. The season also encourages me to think about how video games have toxic themes of love disguised as stories of men fighting to win the love of women. With this in mind, I’ve been reflecting on how toxic masculinity can damage the emotional state of men by normalizing violence as a way to show dominance over others, by encouraging them to adopt the “tough-guy” routine, suppressing emotions and weakness, hardening their being so as to not show vulnerability.
Scott Pilgrim vs. The World: The Game, developed by Ubisoft Montreal and Ubisoft Chengdu, is a video game adaptation of the graphic novel series Scott Pilgrim by Bryan Lee O’Malley. Up to four players can play as Scott Pilgrim, Ramona Flowers, Kim Pine, Stephen Stills, and Wallace Wells. The gang helps Scott defeat Ramona’s seven evil exes, fighting a variety of enemies along the way. In each level, the player beats up a bunch of enemies, solves quick puzzles, shops for power ups and healing items, and defeats the evil ex. This might be a piece of cake when played as a group, but the game offers a very different experiences when playing alone.
When playing as Scott, the player experiences a journey where Scott gets mugged, impaled, burned, blasted by security guards, random men, men in dinosaur and alien costumes, and by women as well. Scott also suffers a lot of damage from the powers of each of the evil exes. If players play as Ramona, then the game changes to a narrative in which Ramona is facing her problems head on by confronting each one of the evil exes. However, when each level is completed, an ending scene is shown where Scott and Ramona share a kiss, a supposedly “happy ending.” To clarify, the gameplay itself doesn’t change depending on which character the player uses, but the player’s experience does. One wonders why Kim, Stephen and Wallace would be part of the game given that they don’t directly benefit from the love interest between Scott and Ramona. Some players may think that they’re helping Scott out of friendship. However, the game also draws attention to some of the more problematic plot points from the graphic novel series, calling out the toxic masculinity in its story.
The League of Evil Exes as an organization is one example of how a group of people embody toxic masculine traits, like treating Ramona as a prize to be claimed rather than an autonomous human being. Matthew Patel, when half of his HP is down, uses his mystical powers to summon “Demon Hipster Chicks” to attack the player. Although the “Demon Hipster Chicks” come from mystical powers, they are still an embodied representation of female submission to Matthew’s control. Roxanne Richter is labeled an “ex-boyfriend” instead of “ex-girlfriend.” This description erases her LGBTQ+ identity. It also doesn't help that the only piece of information we have regarding Roxanne is that her gender is female. The League of Evil Exes not only represents a toxic display of male fragility and frustration – nursing the wound of losing Ramona – but also manifests an oppressive power structure allowing them to control groups of people to fight for their cause.
There are also moments in the game when the player may notice a different narrative depending on which character they use. For instance, Kim and Stephen’s motives and feelings show these differences in each level’s ending scene. In every variation of the ending scene, you always see Scott and Ramona kiss and express their love, but Kim and Stephen have different expressions as you complete each level. Kim’s facial expression and body language seem to make reference to her and Scott’s romantic relationship when they were in high school, suggesting that she’s not completely over him. Perhaps fighting and violence are an escape from these feelings. Stephen’s reactions get more intense as the gang finishes levels. It could be that Stephen wants to help Scott on his quest, or maybe it’s just a way to promote their band, the Sex Bob-Omb. In either case, these scenes decenter Scott, compelling us to think about his role as a protagonist in the game. Is he really our hero?
At the end of this journey of love, I can’t help but think of the ways female bodies get both objectified and weaponized in the game. These images reproduce patriarchal power structures, the game promoting a vision of masculine rivalry that involves saving the “damsel in distress” from other men. Additionally, the policing of normative gender roles also come into play in the way the game assigns special moves: whereas Scott, Stephen, and Wallace can do damage to groups of enemies, Ramona and Kim have healing powers. This distinction not only reinforces the role of men as aggressors but also relegates women to the position of caretakers.
Scott Pilgrim vs. the World: The Game serves as an excellent example of why it’s important to examine gendered power structures in video game popular culture. Yes, the game is enjoyable for many reasons. It’s a great game to play with your friends on a Friday night over drinks and you’ll have a ton of fun playing beating up hordes of enemies. However, it needs to be acknowledged that this enjoyment is structured around a toxic masculine quest to win the love of a woman by solving her problems for her. In other words, in playing the game you’re also playing out the trope of the white, masculine savior. Our forms of play are as complex, politically and emotionally, as the ways we love.
