Perhaps one of the most difficult parts of creation, medium choice is everything: It can make or break a story, depending on your choice, you pander to a certain audience with your choice some people don’t like to read and others don’t like to watch movies or television. As an artist and aspiring writer, I try to view all stories across all mediums, exposing myself to any and all inspirations. Being so, in 2007, when the game Bioshock came out, I was excited much like the rest of the gaming communities across the world having seen trailers that teased a mystical world unlike any seen before. Rightfully so, Bioshock has been dubbed one of the greatest video games of all time, for its art and interface, but mainly: The story Bioshock is a story that can only rightfully be told in a user interface format, however, it isolated the vast population of non-video game players. That being the case, I intend to—as best I can—tell the story, one of the most unique and mesmerizing stories to come out in the last decade, for all to hear and enjoy, because it is one of the most recently told stories that I believe with all my heart everyone must hear.
Bioshock takes place in 1960 following the protagonist Jack who, in the opening scene, is subject to a plane crash after an odd/ominous monolog. They told me, ‘Son, you’re special. You were born to do great things.” You know what? They were right. Jack appears to be the sole survivor of the incident, finding himself downed—conveniently—near an isolated lighthouse. Entering, he finds himself face to face with an enormous banner reading, “No God or Kings. Only Man,” beneath an enormous dominating bust (the irony of which is not lost on this writer). The only way forward is in a little submarine which takes Jack deep to the ocean floor while a screen blocks Jack’s view and a video from a man named Andrew Ryan plays, asking about how the world should be. How a man should be entitled to the fruits of his labors: It doesn’t belong to God, the government or those unable/unwilling to help themselves. As opposed to giving in to the greed of these “parasites” Andrew Ryan chose, instead, to build Rapture. The screen raises to reveal a spectacle that could only be seen to believe: an underwater city on the ocean floor, replete with skyscrapers and neon signs with the flash of Las Vegas and sophistication of New York, a utopia called Rapture. Rapture is a paradise for the self-made woman/man, where a person can express themselves without fear of censor, where “the great will not be constrained by the small.”
Jack’s arrival to Rapture, seeing past its glamorous facade, tells a very different story: Jack witnesses a man come to help him disemboweled atop a pile of signs that say, “We’re not Ryan’s slaves,” and, “Let it end, let us ascend.” Rapture is dead.
