I went into Killer is Dead prepared to love it, to laugh, and to defend the silly gigolo missions as just part of the package. I’d seen the screenshots; I knew how ridiculous they were, how objectifying, but I told myself, it’s just Suda, it’s just Japan, you know how they do. So as soon as the first one opened up, I sailed in, smirking a little, ready to roll my eyes and snark and maybe collect a little reward.
And I was not disappointed at first. Stare at boobs for guns? Sure. Except, well, the mission was boring. So boring I could hardly even rouse a shred of ire.
The gigolo missions, in short, go down like this: sneak peeks at bosom, crotch, legs, arms, face — whatever you can get your glistening orbs on — when you’re date’s not looking. This gives you guts, and when you marshal enough courage, you get to take the ladies home for a little roll in the light-washed, overly filtered hay. You can fling gifts at them, too, to make the whole thing a little easier. Mess up, get caught ogling, and things roll down hill.
There’s a problem with all the women in Killer is Dead — all the characters, really — and their movement. In some scenes, the bodies are fluid, almost-real; they shine and sway and seem more like people-paintings. But for the most part, the women are like ill-drawn dolls; they have a very limited range of movement and they repeat gestures constantly, many of which don’t make sense. Natalia, Mondo’s ladyfriend from the starting gate, runs her fingers through her hair, but the hair doesn’t move and the fingers are nowhere to be seen. These weird little quirks are highly apparent in the gigolo missions, when all the ladies say and do the same things. That aspect, to me, seems a little creepier than even the mission to bone.
Worse still, the missions can take some time to complete, and the mechanics are shaky. Finally make it to the bedroom? Welcome to the one cutscene you can’t skip. Oh boy, that swaying female form making its way to your bed. Huzzah! Victory! Except I’m pretty sure there might be better renderings of such, well, all over the Internet. Or so I’m told.
I can’t defend any aspect of the missions as fitting the game, or the hyper-noir setting because they have no redeeming factors whatsoever. It isn’t that I’m not the audience. It’s that they are just plain bad: badly done, badly drawn and animated, and badly written.
Perhaps the only redeeming factor in the gigolo missions (you know, besides phat lootz) is the gigolo glasses — special specs that allow Mondo to see the goods beneath the glam. Except, hilariously, they look like this:
This is where I have to wonder if we’re not getting played a little. The glasses are undeniably feminine (not only because they’re pink; they belong to Scarlett, the busty nurse), and allow you to see and understand a woman’s “true feelings.” And, y’know, see her undies. I don’t know about the rest of you ladies, but my panty selection definitely reflects my general feelings on a day-to-day basis.
But what does this mean? You have to embrace the feminine to see into a woman? (That question could work on multiple levels, I guess….) I think it’s important to consider that, if you bork a gigolo mission, Mondo comes off as stumbling and goofy, the pop-eyed otaku in that moment, just a kid with a sword, a gun-arm, and an eyefull of boobs. Run Scarlett’s gauntlet, get her glasses (and into her pants), and you’re given an advantage that comes from taking on a feminine aspect, and in doing so, you become a more suave dude.
I am uncertain this much thought went into the building of this particular game — there are gloriously crazy moments, but also a lot of random WTFeries afoot — and overall, I think the vast hills and valleys of feminine flesh are a product of a Japanese gaming culture and its approach to gender presentation and relationships in media, but these elements did have me thinking, for a moment, that maybe, just maybe, there’s something more afoot here.
