Surgeon Simulator
2013, Bossa Studios
2013, Bossa Studios
originally played on PC
So I always wanted to be a surgeon. Along with astronaut it
was one of the job boxes I ticked off every year in that big blue book parents
in Ontario used to track their kids' progress through school in the 1980s. Another
consumer memory brought to us by the fine folks at Jostens. Of course, this
ambition disappeared as I grew older and came to realise that I wanted to
memorise songs and books instead of physiology and stress-relief methodology. So the humanities and a long life of poverty for me,
then. Both my parents worked in health care, and my brother and I spent a lot
of time after school wandering around the hospital waiting for the age of ten
so we could stay home alone as latchkey kids. You see a lot of things wandering
around a hospital unsupervised. Patients in various states of recovery are
obviously interesting to a young kid raised on horror films, but so are the small
dramas traced into hospital waiting rooms and hallways along with family
members, worry for loved ones made supine like a struggling dog by the rules of
the institution. Parents annoyed by their loss of control to institutional
processes, fighting with doctors and nurses for tiny scraps of hopeful good
news and just a quick glimpse and please maybe let me hold their hand. Friends
visiting the infirm and the elderly who only wish them to leave if they didn’t
want them there in the first place. Spouses hiding their frustration and
loneliness as their love for each other strains and sometimes breaks in front
of a quiet public. Sublime horrors of bodies objectified, flesh drawn and
quartered to find out what’s wrong, what needs fixing, a painful and necessary
violence fundamental to understanding. Like Councillor Krespel in Hoffman’stales, medicine must often destroy its object of study in order for
understanding. A poisonous cure, to be sure. Walking through the hallways and
backrooms of the hospital alone or with my brother, sometimes we would see
something very graphic indeed. Seeing a few fingers in plastic wrap abandoned
teaches a person that medicine is an abstraction as much as it is an abjection.
Distanciation and humour are the only recourse for sanity.
Of course, to deal with all of the domestic trauma, heartbreaking
grief and loss, as well as the mountains of gore, many people who work in
medicine adopt a form of gravedigger’s humour in order to compartmentalise the
abject and the horrific in order to maintain their capabilities on the job.
Ankle-deep in blood and crying loved ones, you smile and enjoy the smells as
you wipe blood across your forehead. Metaphorically, of course, as hygiene must
be maintained, in Canadian hospitals at least. I’ve noticed this attitude in
friends who are cops as well – humour used to paint over otherwise horrible experiences. A friend of mine who drives ambulances spent the first day in his
job cleaning up brain matter from the highway to Toronto before coming over for
a birthday party for my brother and revolting every single one of the guests by
not having changed his uniform first. I’m
covered in brains. You’d think I would have had the bright idea to change,
he said before forgetting his Asian alcohol allergies and passing out in a
closet upstairs after drinking the neck of a Molson Canadian. Similarly, my
father edited film and video for medical procedures, sometimes while we ate supper
in the living room. The likeness of my mother’s lasagna to the fleshy subdermal
parts of the inner leg was a constant source of amusement for him.
don't tell me you don't want to shake his head around, because you do |
Surgeon Simulator 2013 (2013) brings this laisez-faire attitude to home
medicine games. While most games dealing with health care are managerial
simulations – SimHealth (1994) and Theme Hospital (1997) being the most
obvious examples – or cheap licensing entries in film and television-based
transmedia franchises, such as ER
(2005), Grey’s Anatomy: The Video Game
(2009), and House M.D. (2010), there
are some examples of games which try, realistically or otherwise, to depict
actual medical procedures. Life & Death (1988) and Life & Death II: The Brain (1990) are perhaps the most well-known iterations, having been compiled
on numerous shovelware releases in the early CD-ROM years. This was in fact the
manner in which I came to play both games, for as a farewell present when our
family moved to Southern Ontario my father’s co-workers at the
hospital gave him a CD-ROM drive for our fancy new 386. A collective effort in
financing, as these drives were very expensive back in the day (starting around $1,000) and quite the gift. Within computer geek circles, our machine was the envy of
everyone around for almost a year. Except for libraries and universities, nobody
had a CD-ROM drive in 1991. The technology was so new that in order to fully
experience what it had to offer, sound routed from the drive had to be sent to
a mixer along with the output from the computer's sound card. Likewise, publishers had
little understanding of how to properly use the medium, either filling titles
with uselessly small (75x75 or sometimes 130x100) video clips often repurposed
from extant video media such as television and home video, or compiling as many
non-related games as they could get their copyright licenses on. A database
medium, then, and unless dictionaries and encyclopaedias are of particular
interest to you, nothing interesting came out on CD-ROM until Sierra started releasing ‘talkie’ versions of games such as King’s Quest V: Absence Makes The Heart Go Yonder! (1990) and Space Quest IV: Roger Wilco and the Time Rippers (1991), quickly followed by Interplay titles such as Star Trek 25th Anniversary
(1992) and J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, Vol. I (1990). More often than not,
however, such exciting multimedia versions of popular games were marred by
their decidedly non-professional voice acting, often invoking the indie DIY
spirit of the time and using members of the programming team in character voice roles. It should be noted that this dynamic of economic necessity forcing the
conscription of terrible voice acting from programmers is different than occurred
when designers purposely put themselves into their games, as Chris Jones did
when he took an increasingly prominent role as the character Tex Murphy in a
series of adventure games from Mean Streets (1989)
through The Pandora Detective (1996).
Shudder-inducing as thespian delusions, these early non-professional multimedia experiments are
often fantastic if appreciated in the right spirit. Of course, some of these releases were very well done indeed; the CD-ROM editions of Interplay's Star Trek adventures were in face the last collective effort from the cast of the original television series.
the most realistic four-colour surgery simulator ever released |
surgery is definitely for the OCD set |
Surgeon Simulator 2013
is frustrating for quite the opposite reason. Basically a cartoon exercise in fun
with physics, Surgeon Simulator tasks
players with performing a variety of challenging and totally unrealistic
surgical procedures. Players are in direct control of the virtual surgeon’s
hands, thus providing a level of haptic complexity to the interface which
guarantees that players will fuck up even the simplest of gestures, such as
grabbing and maintaining a hold of an object. Don’t be turned off by the fact
that the game doesn’t include a tutorial, as the fun of playing the game isn’t
really about completing the challenges offered to players, but rather about
enjoying the comic mayhem inherent to amateur surgery.
drunk interface. drunkterface? |
careful... careful... |
Fundamentally, Surgeon
Simulator 2013 is a game of frustration, as controlling two human hands by
means of the mouse and five keys on the keyboard is much more difficult than
would initially appear. Simple movements are made exceedingly difficult as in a
sense players relearn or recalibrate their hand-eye coordination. Of course,
this leads to a variety of fun achievements on Steam, such as flashing metal
horns or flipping off the patient before abusing his face like he’s in a Three
Stooges routine, or successfully completing surgery after stabbing yourself in
the arm with enough drugs to start hallucinating. This kind of fun only
improves when playing with multiple intoxicated friends.
great, now you've hopped yourself up on goofballs |