Injustice 2 is a transformative addition to the fighting game genre for many reasons, not the least of which being its uncharacteristically well executed story. It’s dumb and bloated and gittishly enamoured with its tortuous mythology, but in the exact sorta way something based on these comic book legends is supposed to be. Injustice 2 gets comics. It’s weird and tritely poetic, funny and epic, and unabashedly juvenile. Nothing encapsulates this sentiment more than the sequence that pits Black Canary and Oliver Queen against Bane, Doctor Fate and Cheetah, each complete with their own deliciously apros cheeseball one liners and homeric action poses.
That isn’t to say Netherrealm made a game derisively mocking the intuition that is frankly made and tailored for young adolescents, a la Joel Schumacher’s Batman and Robin. In fact, it’s quite the contrary. An undeniable love for these properties and their fan base is demonstrated in every nuance of the games dense scope — from the casting of Kevin Conroy, to the inclusion of heralded b-listers like the aforementioned Dr. Fate, to the unexpected moments of dorky charm that comes in the games later moments.
None of this is exactly news at this point. Injustice 2 is a hit, commercially and critically. I guess what intrigues me most about its brilliance, particularly as it pertains to its storytelling, is its adherence to the bar previously set by The Witcher 3 , Fallout 4 , Grand Theft Auto 5 and Uncharted 4 . Developers are placing an increasingly higher premium on crafting great stories, a hopeful fact that is present even in their fighting games.
It used to be that fluid mechanics and character animations were enough to sail a game of its type into a league of greatness. I mean that rings true as recently as Injustice: Gods Among Us . Sure, there is somewhat of a perfunctory attempt at a plot there, but it was clear its elseworld narrative was just a thin frame to hang the age old nerd parable: “Who would win in a fight?” Injustice 2 boasts an impressive story mode in its own right, not in a “for a fighting game” kinda way, but in a “if I picked up this run at a comic book store, I would be more than satisfied.”
With every year, it’s getting ever more implausible to champion the grumbles that wish to denigrate video games as a medium unworthy to be deemed “art.” When our button mashers are as gripping as our movies, it may be time to reevaluate.
