Andy Earl
“Oh my God! What’s THAT?”
Jon, Elaine and Joel Ronson (9) encounter BRAVIA, Blu-ray Disc™ and PlayStation3
MondayI receive a telephone call from
Sony Magazine. How would I like to road-test a brand new 40in BRAVIA High Definition LCD TV, a PlayStation3 and a bunch of the finest zombie-shooting/fast-car-driving games? Oh, and some Blu-ray™ Discs, such as
Casino Royale?
I glance over at our TV. It is clunky and boxy. My nine-year-old son Joel is playing Super Mario Galaxy on it, but I can see that it is ultimately unsatisfying for him.
“I’ll take it all!” I say.
Tuesday The stuff arrives from Sony. Joel and I open the 40in BRAVIA packaging and practically fall to our knees in awed shock. It’s like the monolith in
2001: A Space Odyssey. It’s black, sleek and inscrutable, and we’re like the monkeys: adoring yet confused.
My wife Elaine comes home. “Oh my God! What’s THAT?”
“I know!” says Joel. “Isn’t it AMAZING?”
“It’s MUCH TOO BIG for the room!” she continues. “It’s like you’ve invited a huge man to just stand in the corner and STARE AT US without consulting me!” She seems genuinely upset.
“Maybe we should turn it on,” I suggest. “And reserve judgement until then.”
“Fine!” she says. “Turn it on!”
So we do. We watch
Casino Royale on Blu-ray. It is incredibly vivid and sharp and colourful and I’ve never seen anything like it. Within minutes Elaine caves in and admits she loves it.
Wednesday After school, Joel plays
Resistance: Fall of Man. BANG BANG BANG goes the AK47 as limbs hurtle over a post-apocalypse Tower Bridge.
At midnight I hear a terrifying scream. “Oh my God,” I think. “I allowed him to play
Resistance: Fall of Man and now the violent imagery has infected his dreams.”
“I had a nightmare,” Joel moans. “I went to buy
Resistance: Fall of Man 2. I got it home and turned it on…”
“Yes?” I ask, dread rising.
“And right away there was an explosion,” Joel says. “I was killed and it said ‘Game Over’ and it wouldn’t let me play again!”
There’s a silence.
“Let me get this straight,” I say. “You weren’t screaming because you were disturbed by the violence. You were screaming because the character had no re-spawning capability?”
“Of course I wasn’t upset by the violence,” he says, looking at me as if I’m mad. “I LOVE the violence.”
“Oh,” I say. “OK then.”
Thursday I’m worried Joel is getting freaked out by the violence, so I try to interest him in playing
Gran Turismo instead. We buy a gleaming and incredibly lifelike Mini and drive – in an incredibly lifelike way – around the track for a bit.
“This is boring,” says Joel.
“It’s just driving,” I agree.
“I can’t believe you’re PENALISED for crashing and killing people,” Joel says. “Crashing should be something you’re REWARDED for.”
“I agree,” I find myself saying.
“Can I have
Grand Theft Auto IV?” asks Joel.
“No,” I say.
“Please?” says Joel. “All my friends have got it.”
“No,” I say.
Friday “Please?” says Joel.
“No,” I say.
“Please?”
“Oh, OK!” I yell. “But you can only play it with me supervising.”
“Done!” Joel says.
We buy the game. On the way home I repeatedly tell Joel we’re making a terrible mistake and if I see him deliberately killing an innocent bystander even once I’ll be upset and disappointed.
“OK, OK,” Joel says. “It’s only a GAME.”
We get home and put it into the PS3. I sit on the sofa and cross my arms disapprovingly. Joel turns it on.
“Wow!” he says.
“Good graphics,” I say. “I’ll admit that.”
But then we get to the part where Niko Bellic is required to shoot some underworld character in the leg.
“What SHOULD I do?” says Joel, panicking.
“I don’t know!” I say. “Um… Just leave.”
But we can’t leave. We have to shoot the guy in the leg or the game can’t continue. This suddenly feels like a huge deal.
“YOU shoot him, Dad!” yells Joel. “PLEASE! YOU do it!”
“I DON’T WANT TO DO IT EITHER!” I yell back.
“PLEASE don’t shoot me!” says the graphic.
“I HAVE to,” I say. “I’m really sorry.”
I raise the gun. I can barely look at the screen.
“Ow!” he says.
“That wasn’t so bad,” says Joel.
“Nah,” I say. “He’s only a bit hurt. Just because we shot him in the leg doesn’t mean we would shoot people in real life.”
“You’re right,” says Joel. “We’re not bad people.”
As the day progresses, Joel amasses greater wealth and power within the criminal hierarchy of Liberty City.
“You know
Monopoly?” he says. “How you go round the board trying to make money and get houses and stuff?”
“Yes,” I say.
“
Monopoly is like a crap
Grand Theft Auto,” he says.
Epilogue (the following week) Blu-ray is amazing. The 40in BRAVIA now seems the right size for the room. Massive TVs – 36in TVs – now look small to me. Joel is no longer rampaging violently. In fact, we go out to the park quite a lot and only play PS3 from time to time. It’s all working out OK.
Jon Ronson is a writer and documentary film-makerSony Computer Entertainment UK Ltd emphasises that both video games in this article are aimed at a mature audience, and should not be played by anyone under the age restriction without parental consent.This is an edited version of the original story. To enjoy the full diary, subscribe to Sony Magazine
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