The easiest way to
tell if someone has spent a lot of time playing Hitman is to ask them
what their impression is of the franchise. Someone who has never
played it before will usually think it's a very gritty, serious
series where the main character is one of the most boring, dour
people on the planet. But if a fan of the franchise was asked the
same question, they would say it is one of the most hilarious IPs in
the games industry, filled with the most delightfully macabre, black
humor. Whether it's intentional or not, this disconnect between the
stern face of Agent 47, everyone's favorite murder boy, and the
comedy which he is party to, sits at the seat of what makes Hitman
such a gem in the eyes of those who play it.
The genius of Hitman
is that no matter how absurd the situation he's put in, no matter
what is happening to those around him, Agent 47 will always look on
with the same blank, completely humorless expression on his face.
This visual can be amusing on it's own, in the right situation, but
when all the various opportunities IO has afforded the player kick
in, hilarity ensues. In other words, 47 is the ultimate straight man.
There is never a moment when he loses his composure, which means that
he can play off of absurd situations in a way that very few
characters are capable. He's an extraordinarily boring character on
his own, and that's largely the point.
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| Will Never Smile, No Matter What |
And yet, if Agent 47
is the straight man, who is the funny man is this comedy duo?
Normally, one might think it is his handler, Diana Burnwood. While
she's certainly got her own brand of humor, and isn’t shy about
making quips at her partner's, or their target's, expense, she often
plays it just as straight as the assassin she feeds intel to. No, the
funny man is someone else entirely: It is the player, in
collaboration with the writing team at IO Interactive, that forms the
second half of what would more accurately be described as Hitman's
“comedy quartet”. This dynamic between the characters inside the
game world, and us outside of it, is the most fundamental building
block from which all of the series's best moments can be traced back
to.
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| Agent 47 (deadpan): "Do I look fabulous?" |
In hindsight, it
should have been obvious from the very first episode of the 2016
game. When I directed Agent 47 into the Paris Fashion Show, and found
that he happened to have a very similar facial structure to the star
of the show, a supermodel named Helmut Kruger, I knew the game was
tempting me to guide my murder boy in ways I couldn't resist. Ever
the consummate professional, 47 followed orders to a tee, all with
that signature scowl emblazoned upon his visage. Yet, our performance
had only just begun. Dressed in Helmut's dashing garments, I
commanded my Agent to rush to the dressing room and get his makeup
on, so that no one doubted the veracity of his disguise. And then,
together, we walked the runway. What sells this scene is not 47's
swagger, nor his confidence and poise. While they contribute to the
image, the humor comes from intensity of his perpetually steely gaze.
It is clear that, to him, walking the fashion show is both as easy
and uninteresting as watching paint dry. While the crowd is bedazzled
by his performance, he's just putting in another day at the office,
and couldn't possibly care any less.
This is only one
example. Whether it's a guitar solo, taking a selfie with a drug
kingpin's wife, or selling a poisoned variant of “Florida Man's
Coconut Balls”, 47 faces any situation, no matter how hilarious,
with the same grim expression. His ability to remain straight faced
at all times exacerbates the comedic value of these scenarios through
the juxtaposition alone. Because he would otherwise not be the type
of person to place himself in absurd scenes, and the rest of Hitman
is deliberately presented self-seriously to further heighten the
humor of the in-game hijinks, this can only work in the context of a
video game, with a player directing the action.
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| The Many Absurd Faces(?) of Agent 47 |
Much is lost when
transitioning it to a non-interactive medium, without a player
directing the spectacle. This becomes abundantly clear when watching
something like the 2007 Hitman movie. Although the lore is altered
and they stuck an unnecessary, awkward romance into the movie, that's
not really the core of the problem. The problem is that the movie
takes itself deadly seriously. It sees Agent 47 dressing up in
disguises and manipulating circumstances to get closer to his targets
and says to itself, “Look at this badass professional assassin. No
one can beat Awesome McCoolDude.” While that aspect is certainly
part of the character, it doesn't capture his full essence. It's
missing the absurdity that he needs to play around in for his
otherwise dour persona to function. Other media, like the books and
comics, have a very similar problem, as people like Super Bunny Hop
points out in his video on one of them.
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| Pictured: An Entire Film Crew Missing the Point |
Without the player
to guide 47 into absurd situations, he loses out on opportunities to
showcase what makes him special. He becomes another boring,
middle-aged white protagonist. More than most characters, he needs
the hand of a skilled (or even better, unskilled) player to work with
and pilot him into situations where the dissonance between his
eternal scowl and the zaniness of his actions combine to create truly
memorable moments. It takes two to tango, and Agent 47 doesn't work
as a solo act.
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