The action in a fighting game occurs in a very restricted space. Especially 2D fighters. They are the very opposite of open-worlds. They are deliberate, manic claustrophobic-worlds. Especially in tag fighters. That restricted space is anything but empty space. In art history academics use the term horror vacui to describe certain modes of Baroque art: ‘fear of empty space’. The term is certainly applicable to fighting games.
And it is certainly applicable to Marvel Tōkon: Fighting Souls. ArcSystem Works’s new tag fighter is an incredibly, beautifully claustrophobic game. It is fast-paced (though not to the same extent as its predecessor Dragon Ball FighterZ), busy, jam-packed. It helps the claustrophobia that the visuals are pitch-perfect. The visuals make you want to be stuck in that chaotic claustrophobic space.
But the music is what makes you want to kick ass.
Because of the nature of fighting games, soundtracks need to be of a different beast. You won’t find – and don’t need to find – elegant scores like in Final Fantasy 7 Remake, you don’t need medieval symphonies like in Kingdom Come Deliverance 2. What you need is the pumping electro beats of Techno Syndrome (I’m a 90s child, obviously that’s the fighting game tune that instantly soars to mind) or Dragon Ball FighterZ’s Broly Theme.
Fighting games are about pure gaming and the music necessarily reflects that identity. Marvel Tōkon: Fighting Souls’s soundtrack certainly hasn’t disappointed. What is noteworthy is how the developers’ crafted such appropriate tracks for each fighter and arena. This reflects the games’ overall philosophy: each character plays so differently that sometimes, switching between Magneto and Captain America, you feel as though you’ve switched between games. And the music reflects that individuality.
Of course this isn’t unique to Tōkon. Some of the best tracks in fighting game history are individual character tracks, like the appropriately campy funk Sakura’s Theme from Super Street Fighter IV. These themes, played in fighting games’ claustrophobic space, absolutely reverberate and somehow sound louder than your television or PC’s volume maximum level. They get you going. It’s the kind of instant, quick rush that can be compared to watching football games.
Football stadiums are similarly claustrophobic arenas (note I’m talking about soccer not American football as I have absolutely no experience of the latter). For 90 minutes, a crowd of 40,000 or 60,000 people are treated to a wondrous assault on their senses. From the action on the pitch, the colours, the crowds, and of course, the club anthems and chants play a huge part in the gladiatorial spectacle. I’m an Aston Villa fan so whenever, whilst watching one of our matches, I hear our fans singing Hi Ho Aston Villa, my skin is swamped in instant goosebumps. Similarly whenever Liverpool fans sing You’ll Never Walk Alone at the start of a match – you instantly feel connected to the club’s identity.
The same is true when I choose Magik and I hear the lilting piano notes of her theme at the start of a match, I instantly get myself pumped up for the fight. When I hear the guitar riff on Green Goblin’s You Greenhorn, which is simultaneously rocky and cheeky (like Gobby himself), I want to do the Goblin proud and slaughter my opponent. And hearing to the mix of whispering harmonies and upbeat piano of the Shadow of Wakanda, I want to shout out Wakanda Forever over the corpse of my opponent!
And when I play in the New York stage and choose to play its relevant theme, I hear the saxophones and pianos and for a minute it feels like I’m listening to Lou Reed – and then the music gets faster and heavier, and it feels like I’m in New York fighting alongside the Avengers against the Chitauri. If ever the theme of the Knowhere stage came on in a nightclub I bet people would dance their vodka-fuelled assess off (I’m guessing that’s what happens at night clubs… anyone?).
The music and sound developers working on this game have achieved what is truly important in any art form: appropriateness. It is heartening to see how video game music is being increasingly regarded as an art form – even Classic Fm regularly feature themes from video games and highlight composers like Nobuo Uematso. Will the day come when even fighting game music is allowed to enter such pantheons?
In truth the question is irrelevant. Lead composer Tomo Otawa was not tasked with creating art for art’s sake: he was tasked with creating fighting game music that gets the job done. And he’s succeeded. Hats off Tomo Otawa and the entire team. They’ve succeeded.
