Like most children of the 1980s, I was raised by video games. Most of my valuable life lessons came not from my parents, but from hours immersed in my own 8-bit reality, improving my hand-eye coordination at the expense of mild Carpel Tunnel Syndrome. By the age of 10, Metroid had introduced me to the idea of feminism; Duck Hunt showed me the inherent value of the Second Amendment; and Super Mario Brothers taught me that Italians were coin-hungry shroomers who dealt with all of their problems by jumping on them. But when I heard that the AGFRAG Entertainment Group had signed on to develop a video game based on the artistic endeavors of artist and television star Bob Ross, I wept for the future of my favorite pastime.
A PBS icon in the ’80s and early ’90s, Ross appeared on over 300 public television networks nationwide as the host of The Joy of Painting, where he taught his viewers how to create art that only your grandmother would buy. He had a sweet white man’s afro, a penchant for the landscape and a soothing voice that walked the dangerous line between kind neighbor and registered sex offender. He has been parodied dozens of times in television and film for his artistic style and approach to teaching — one part spiritual journey and two parts LSD, with just a hint of repressed emotional anguish from his nearly 20 years in the military.
In what was initially thought to be an April Fools’ prank, an announcement on BobRoss.com stated that the former public television star — if there can be such a thing — will be the subject of an upcoming release for the next-generation Nintendo console. The gyroscopic design of the new controller will supposedly create a free range of motion to accurately simulate the movement of a paintbrush, allowing users to create “happy little clouds” of their own, and giving the entire world just one more reason to target video games as the poison corrupting our youth.
I can’t imagine that a Joy of Painting-inspired video game would be much fun. There’s just no incentive for me to splurge on this product, as I have never once complained that Nintendo fails to cater to my creative side. That and the fact that it will probably be about as entertaining as contributing to a PBS pledge drive: you spend a hundred bucks, feel good about yourself for an hour, and then realize that all you got was an overpriced canvas tote bag.
Basically, Bob Ross: The Video Game is about as good of an idea as Britney Spears: The Mother, and, in both cases, no one will realize any flaws until it’s too late and there’s been considerable brain damage. The industry has proven time and again that its patrons are not interested in the wholesome gaming experience that digital art lessons would provide. People don’t want to learn how to paint — they want to beat up hookers, steal cars and shoot at cops, like in the Grand Theft Auto series, which taps into America’s hidden desire to live the life of Charlie Sheen.
Maybe that’s the direction AGFRAG should have taken with its project. I know I would have been first in line for the release of Joy of Painting: Vice City. No one would pass up the chance to take control of a flamethrower-wielding Bob Ross, hell-bent on destroying anyone calling his work “overly simplistic.” Slapping a ho or two wouldn’t hurt either, and could be done without messing with his perfectly sculpted ‘fro.
Considering Ross is dead, and this is the Easter season, there’s also something rather unsettling about the idea of resurrecting him through the magic of computer graphics. Even if I was interested in learning how to draw evergreens in front of a majestic snowy mountain, I wouldn’t want a digital zombie as my teacher. That sounds like the premise of an awful R.L. Stein novel.
While I’ll still be apprehensive of the new project, video games have been known to make even the stupidest ideas seem somehow appealing. Just take Dance, Dance, Revolution. The idea would have been too cheesy for Michael Flatley, and yet its machines take in more quarters than a wishing well outside of Wrigley Field. Who’d have thought that Asian techno remixes, pulsing lights and mild aerobic activity would mesh so well together? Maybe the Bob Ross game will catch on in a similar manner, and inspire numerous amateur artists to levels of mediocrity they could not have achieved without him. Or maybe it will be a horrible failure, and we’ll all go back to our dreams of murder and car jacking. If we do, I know I won’t complain — it’s what we wanted all along.
Sean Bartlett, a junior in the College of Arts and Sciences, is a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press. He can be reached at [email protected].