Games and Gender: a feminist review of Tetris (2023)
The Puzzle of Narrative Balance
In Tetris (2023), director Jon S. Baird takes on the unexpected challenge of transforming a colorfully chaotic, highly geometric video game into a drama thick with intrigue. On the surface, the film provides a gripping narrative about the legal battles and cultural espionage surrounding the classic game’s global rights. However, behind its vividly rendered 80s nostalgia and a lively score that marries past and present rhythms, an opportunity arises to critique how the film’s narrative structures become – somewhat ironically – puzzling.
Taron Egerton delivers a magnetic performance as Henk Rogers, the real-life video game designer and entrepreneur who wrestled intellectual property complexities to bring Tetris to the masses. Egerton’s charisma undeniably drives the story, but the film’s female players, sidelined into peripheral roles, demand additional scrutiny. Mina, portrayed by Ayane Nagabuchi, is Rogers’ wife, and though played with sincerity and warmth, her character is confined within a narrative space where domestic concerns and emotional support eclipse other potential contributions. The film opts for a traditional portrayal of family, reifying classic gender roles that pivot around male ambition and drive.
A Feminine Footnote
While the real-life events surrounding Tetris hold male-dominated tales of ambition and rivalry, the film’s failure to elevate its female characters beyond superficial attachments to these plots remains a shortcoming. Communications between female characters are missing, creating an environment where men’s dialogues shape the story’s direction. The immensely talented Sofia Lebedeva, cast as a translator pivotal to Henk’s plans, is reduced to an instrument rather than a character with agency. Her function is purely mechanical, serving the plot rather than evolving within it.
The film’s focus on male centrality offers a narrative choice that both reflects and critiques its historical context. Yet, in cinematic terms, this results in women’s contributions lingering at the narrative’s edges, removing opportunities for dynamic engagement in the creative chaos. Although Tetris entertains with its real-life drama and stylized aesthetic, the reduction of women to narrative accents fails to uphold a more inclusive storytelling ideal.
Visual and Sonic Harmonies
Visually, Tetris bursts with energy, commanding attention through its retro flair and vibrant color palette that pays homage to its gaming roots. Sequences cut between real-life espionage and dynamic game visuals to create an almost tangible momentum that is beautifully orchestrated. The film’s sound design complements this visual spectacle, crafting audio rhythms that bounce with playfulness and intrigue, elevating the audience’s adrenaline much like the game itself.
Such visual and auditory delight is Baird’s accomplishment, weaving a charming tapestry that celebrates the decade’s exuberance. Yet, despite this sensory triumph, the narrative’s gender dynamics seem frozen, caught in a retro aesthetic that hesitates to reimagine its female characters.
The Missing Piece
The cinematic puzzle of Tetris lies in its interplay of compelling storytelling and understated character development, presenting a house of cards that wobbles when scrutinizing gender portrayals. The film nods to personal and national ambitions, following Henk’s passion and ingenuity, which translates into a broader commentary on ambition and corporate greed against the backdrop of a Cold War era. Nonetheless, this drama, rich with espionage and legal battles, could have transcended its patriarchal storytelling by infusing women’s roles with full-bodied personas that defy their taciturn narrative boxes.
Ultimately, Tetris is a film that manages to enthrall through its depiction of one of gaming history’s significant cat-and-mouse chases. It delivers an exploration of ambition as multidimensional as the game it celebrates, yet in failing to color outside the lines with its female characters, it resonates much like a tuneful orchestra missing the depth of an experienced alto. While men move the Tetris blocks of the story, the film leaves us pondering what might unfold if women were allowed to step beyond their edges, guiding pieces as critical players rather than mere spectators.
Tetris stands uniquely as both an homage to a simpler form of entertainment and a complex historical narrative. Still, it reflects a cinematic model seemingly unequipped to fully embrace or explore the dynamic narratives of its women, leaving us with the tantalizing question – what could have been if the puzzle were truly complete, embracing all its players with equal dramatic fervor?
