The player

"Much of the gloriously bad dialogue has been translated from Japanese" Videogame dialogue, traditionally dire, is finally getting better, writes JOE GRIFFIN

AS SOMEONE who has spent much of his life defending video games, there is one corner of the industry that is hard to support. Sure, many games are beautiful, compelling and educational, far too many suffer from bad, bad dialogue.

The obvious explanation for this problem is that games (like cinema) didn't have audible dialogue until well over a decade into their existence. And onscreen text was merely functional for at least a decade more. Another problem, and one that has been well documented, is that many of the popular early titles originated in non-English- speaking countries.

Much of videogames' gloriously bad dialogue has been translated from Japanese, most famously, perhaps, "All your base are belong to us," from Zero Wing. That phrase has developed a life of its own, eclipsing the 1989 game and springing up on TV, T-shirts and various other corners of pop culture.

Much of the appeal in retro games lay in the hilariously bad dialogue. "Take action not to be discovered by the enemy . . . over," warned Metal Gear, while the wimpiest, least coherent insult on record appeared in Final Fantasy 2: "You spoony bard!"

Another problem is that dialogue has often been low on game developers' list of priorities. How else can you explain typos appearing in speech bubbles in games? Though it's rarer now, in the 1990s even huge titles such as Street Fighter 2 had characters talking about the "world's storongest".

Even with the best intentions, game dialogue is inevitably saddled with exposition. At best, it has a hint of wit (as in the Left for Dead series) or spirited machismo (Gears of War). At worst, it's both clunky and confusing, like this gem from the original Metroid: "Defeat the metroid of the planet Zebeth and destroy the mother brain, the mechanical life of vein."

Stll, it has got better in recent years, with comedic games such as Bad Company and Death Spank taking pride in their one-liners.

On the other side, such recent offerings as Heavy Rain and Alan Wake are admirably solemn and sincere. Sometimes the deadly earnest scripts add a level of gravitas, but just as often (especially in Heavy Rain), it feels leaden and unnatural, hampered by the game's need for exposition.

Writing for games is a unique skill, often requiring a variety of lines written for different outcomes within the same scene (Fable III will have nearly 48 hours of dialogue, for example). The solution: coaxing top-drawer writers to gaming. It might prove a challenge, but it's probably inevitable.