Two short years ago, when I learned that there were going to be not one, but six new Sam and Max games, I was ecstatic. In the brief period of time I could have actually been considered a PC gamer, I subsisted primarily on the Lucasarts brand of PC adventure games, and Sam and Max Hit the Road was one of my favorites. But today, the final episode of Sam and Max Season 2 sits on my desktop, where it has been unclicked for months and will probably remain so until I force myself to play through it on a day where I'm not burdened with responsibility. That's right: "force." What the hell happened to me?
I've been in love with Sam and Max even before I played their original game; Steve Purcell's art style, along with a great mix of film noir send-up and absurdist humor, made the duo immediately appealing to me. So, in the 90s, I bought their game, somehow managed to get my hands on the original printing of the trade paperback (no one was murdered, I swear), and watched the mostly-okay cartoon on Fox Kids for the whole year the network decided to air it. Thus, my Sam and Max fanhood should not be called into question. But these days, I can't find myself caring too much about these beloved figures from my adolescence.
Have I merely grown up, or is something foul afoot?
Through copious amounts of research, rumination, and drinking, I may have discovered why I've become so lukewarm towards Telltale Games' Sam and Max revival: simply put, the games need to be funnier. This isn't to say that they're not funny; each episode has a few great jokes that I repeat to my befuddled friends and family members, despite their attempts to change the subject. But there's this real softball, dated quality to the humor of the new Sam and Max games that doesn't quite jive with me; and it's not "dated" in the sense that Purcell's characters seem to exist in a kitschy, post-WWII Americana time bubble. By "dated," I mean that the comedy in the recent seasons of Sam and Max feels like it came out of the Animaniacs writers' room circa 1994.
It's possible that I'm alone in this; as a humor snob and producer of comedy, I spend most of my waking moments complaining about why things aren't funny (for more on this, please see alt.tv.simpsons from 1997 to present). Along with this terrible personality trait comes being very selective about the comedy I choose to consume; and with this feeling that Sam and Max are constantly being reined in, it's hard to get motivated enough to play through a three-hour episode. There are better and less labor-intensive sources of comedy all around me.
I think part of this problem comes from the medium itself; "edgy" humor in video games is so obvious and over-the-top that it completely fails at what it sets out to do. The last thing I want in a Sam and Max game are abortion and rape jokes, but will we ever see a game full of the brutal, soul-crushing (and hilarious) social commentary from something like Wonder Showzen? Even with a supposedly mature game like GTAIV, which tries its best to shock you with a dark sense of humor, completely fumbles its subversive mission by making you aware of the satire at every possible moment. If Stephen Colbert was a character in the GTA universe he'd undoubtedly end every sentence with "...because I'm a slimeball conservative." There's far too much winking at the audience than necessary.
The recent Family Guy game made me scratch my head, too; not only does it exclusively made fun of 20th Century Fox properties, there's also a joke in there about how they're not allowed to make fun of anything else. Zuh?
Is the sense that games are still products causing a line to be drawn in the sand about what can and can't be joked about? Or do video games just need funnier writers? I'll humbly submit my resume in either case.
Relevant Links:
Quickies: Homestar Ruiner
LucasArts Classics On Nintendo DS?
Entitled PC Gamers Whine about Rights