When it comes to characters in video games, I find myself more interested in companions
and villains than any other kinds of characters.
A while back, I even made a video where I explored what goes into creating a likable
companion, and now I want to look at the other side of the coin and discuss what makes a
likable villain.
Before I go too deep into things, I want to make a distinction between a good villain
and a likable one.
A good villain creates external and internal conflict for the protagonist, heightening
the stakes of the story.
What makes a good villain is entirely dependent on how they push a narrative forward, and
it has little to do with whether or not the player likes them.
Characters like Andrew Ryan from Bioshock, Rafe Adler from Uncharted 4, and even Badeline
from Celeste all do an incredible job of motivating the protagonist and player by irritating them.
They are so easy to dislike and be angry with, further magnifying the narrative’s conflict.
Likable villains however are ones that players grow a strange attachment to and, in some
cases, are even rooting for despite them being generally pretty horrible.
So, when I say likable villains, this is what I am referring to: characters you should probably
hate, but actually enjoy having around.
This of course leads to the question: What goes into making a likable video game villain?
And to answer that it’s important to look out how villains from games differ from ones
from other kinds of media.
Creating a likable villain in a video game is a difficult task because of how games typically
approach point of view.
Where games often just stick to the perspective of the protagonist, TV shows, films, and books
are more likely to jump between characters.
Shows like Daredevil, Justified, and Game of Thrones spend a lot of time developing
their villains, allowing the audience to better understand and relate to them while also raising
the stakes for their inevitable confrontations they’ll have with the good guys.
One of my favorite recent examples of this is from the BBC show Killing Eve.
Each episode is split between the protagonist, Eve, an MI6 operative and, Villanelle, the
serial murderer Eve is trying to track down.
This setup of focusing on both Eve and Villanelle gives viewers the chance to see Villanelle
through a lens not tinted by fear.
In most media, scenes with serial killers in them are tense and terrifying, but the
majority of the scenes with Villanelle and her victims are surprisingly playful.
Her sick sense of humor and various quirks are always on display, subverting the viewers
expectations of what a killer should be, and, in a twisted way, it makes her fun to watch.
While I rooted for Eve, I also wanted Villanelle to keep getting away with her crimes so that
the fun of the show could continue.
And I think that feeling is at the core of most likable villains: the knowledge that
they need to be stopped, but also a nagging sense that them losing would almost be as
sad as the protagonist losing.
With games, it is jarring to pull away from the point of view of the character one is
playing as, so the majority of interactions a player ends up having with a villain are
in situations where the two characters are in the same place and in direct opposition
with each other.
While there are obviously exceptions, it is difficult to connect with a villain when every
interaction with them leads to conflict.
Some titles try to solve this by showing cutscenes of what the villain is up to elsewhere, but
even then, developers are limited on how much they can show because when most people decide
to play a game, they want to play a game and not watch a movie’s worth of cutscenes,
usually, meaning games need to limit how often they jump away from the player and to the
villain.
Games like Final Fantasy 7 had some success doing something similar by having playable
flashbacks of a time when the protagonist was aligned with the villain, showing how
things came to be, but this method can also grind the pace of the primary narrative to
a halt.
A different solution is letting the player play as both the protagonist and the villain,
but that obviously creates a whole different set of things to balance, like how evil to
make the villain and how to still make it clear that they are actually the bad guy.
The most common way games get around this is by having the villain in constant communication
with the protagonist and player from afar.
This idea was popularized with the radios in Bioshock, and a many big games have followed
its example since.
Handsome Jack from Borderlands 2 and Pagan Min from Far Cry 4 are both solid examples
of characters who benefit from being able to communicate directly to the player, giving
a chance to learn about them in a context devoid of conflict.
It allows players to appreciate their eccentric personalities without having to worry about
the tension of being murdered by them.
Arguably, the most popular example of this is GLaDos from Portal.
She is in control of Aperture Science’s Enrichment Center, but this control only allows
her to have limited interactions with the protagonist and player.
GLaDOS also is not openly hostile to the main character at the start of the first game.
She is introduced as the guide and proctor for the various tests, and it isn’t until
later that she unceremoniously tries to murder the protagonist.
By portraying GLaDOS as an ally, and then a foe, players get to appreciate her humorous
dialogue without worry, and then later think back on how they probably should have seen
her love for murdering humans coming.
While the way a character is portrayed to the player is important, they also need to
have likable qualities about them.
There are many reasons we end up gravitating towards others, but a major one is that people
tend to like those who have something to offer them.
With companions in games, this comes in the form of assistance whether it be through gameplay
mechanics or events within the story, both leading to forming a clear bond between player
and companion.
Villians on the other hand have far less options when it comes to having something to offer
the player as they, more often than not, are actively trying to thwart them.
Some games frame the villain as a sort of mentor to the protagonist, providing useful
lessons and seeming to genuinely care about them despite also maybe wanting to kill them.
Others put the protagonist and villain in a situation where they need to overcome a
common obstacle, allowing players to get a better understanding of them before going
back to their old ways.
From what I’ve seen, the most common approach to making a villain more endearing, especially
in games, is through humor.
While a villain may not have any help to offer, if they can get a player to laugh or smile
at joke, it shifts how they player views them.
As it turns out, people like funny stuff, so it is natural that they gravitate toward
characters who provide that.
As dumb as it is, the funnier I find a villain, the longer I hope they stick around.
GLaDOS spends an exorbitant amount of time trying to torment and kill the player character,
but her dry humor and perfect comedic timing made me always want her around.
It made me care about her character to the point where in Portal 2 when more information
is given about her backstory, I was entirely invested in how she came to be.
Handsome Jack is another example of a villain who uses comedy to disarm the player, creating
a playful, yet still dangerous rivalry.
This set up leads to a surprising shift in Jack after he loses someone important to him,
which completely changes how he interacts with the player from that moment on.
A sense of somberness replaces the bombastic nature the player has grown used to, which
made me feel a tinge of sadness for him and his life, even though, like, everything bad
that happened to him was all his fault.
The game used comedy to lower my walls, and it used tragedy to get me to understand him
better.
There is a subset of likable villains that I don’t fully understand as they kind of
go against everything that should make a character likable but a lot of people gravitate toward
villains who have an unpredictable and cruel nature.
The Joker has endured as one of the most beloved villains for so long partially because he
is genuinely funny, but mostly because he never ceases to shock audiences.
Villains like this who can best be described as charismatic psychopaths are fascinating
to watch because of the uncertainty that comes with every scene they are in.
Their motivations typically come from a place of wanting to see the beauty of chaos.
While they may amass power, their goal more often than not isn’t to rule or destroy
the world, but rather to see how far they can push the limits of humanity.
For this reason, these kinds of characters are often the least redeemable and in a real
world context they would be beyond terrifying, but within fiction, their lack of inhibition
and empathy makes them an extremely intriguing, leaving the audience wanting to see more.
Vaas from Far Cry 3 and Sander Cohen from Bioshock are both examples of characters who
command the player’s attention while they are on screen, and their warped sense of reality
is so unbelievable and unrelatable that it is hard not to have a morbid sense of curiosity
about them and what it was that brought them to where they are now.
However, the thing that seems to draw people to villains the most is when they are relatable
in some profound way.
Villains are most likeable when it is easy to imagine oneself in their position and understand
why they do the things they do, even though the audience most likely will not agree with
them.
Unless, I guess, the audience is the villain.
It can be argued that these tragic villains show a side of humanity that protagonists
rarely do.
They are the ones who make hard choices in an effort to fix the problems they see in
themselves and the world around them; what sets them apart from others is the lengths
they are willing to go to do so.
However, this is where I think video games often fall short compared to other forms of
media, and it comes back to how games typically don’t spend enough time with the villain
to fully develop them.
Players don’t often get to see villains interacting with characters aside from the
protagonist, which makes it harder to understand who they are on a broader scale.
It is also rare for games to show how the villain grew into the person they’ve become.
While learning about a villains progression through radio conversations is better than
nothing, it ends up being less effective than seeing the transformation firsthand.
This isn’t to say it’s impossible to have a villain players feel empathy for; there
are plenty of interesting tragic villains out there, I just think that games haven’t
found the optimal way to present them yet, which is fair as games are a relatively new
medium that’s still exploring the different ways it can tell a story.
All in all, a villain being likable is obviously subjective.
The things I talk about in this video are some of the common trends I’ve noticed,
but it isn’t a science.
Everyone views the actions of a character differently.
Also, when it comes to villains, it is tough to strike the right balance between being
likable enough where the audience wants them to stick around longer and a little too likable
where the audience starts excusing their terrible behavior.
However, villains that aren’t easily defined as pure evil are more realistic to our world,
and serve to teach us so much more than villains that are clearly all bad.
With that said, while I am interested in this particular brand of villain, likable ones
aren’t well-suited for every kind of story.
There are a ton of incredible villains who I genuinely despise, and that is a huge reason
why they are so effective.
If you are a writer, whether it be for games or anything else, always consider what kind
of story you want to tell.
What are you going for in terms of tone?
What major ideas do you want to explore?
Figuring these things out will help you decide what kind of villain is best for your story
whether that be an unforgivable son-of-a-bitch, a sympathetic monster, or a charismatic psychopath.