This is my first blog post, inspired by my current playthrough of Sanitarium. Might be a bit intimidating to read but then again, I'm writing this out for my own volition and enthusiasm. Also, a fair warning, spoilers for multiple games everywhere

Insanity has been the central theme in several video games, and in most cases it has been executed remarkably well, sometimes even masterfully. Although the approach to the subject varies between games, they all share a common trait: excellent atmosphere and a well-realized plot. I will explore the many ways it has been incorporated in video games, with varying degrees of success.

The first game I'm going to talk about is Manhunt; the gory, nihilistic game which made many headlines during its time on store shelves. You're assuming the role of James Earl Cash, a violent serial killer who met with madness a long time before the events of the game take place. He goes on a relentless killing spree through a decaying city, pitted against other more unstable psychopaths, murdering them in very gruesome, graphic executions.

The more brutal the execution is, the higher the score. After the game comes to an end, there is no change: James is still a murderous madman, only now he's set loose. The question the game subtly asks the player here is: did you enjoy brutally murdering your way throughout just for the hell of it? Are you the insane one here? The "snuff film" vibe the game is trying to produce comes full circle at this point.

Another game I would like to talk about, perhaps in greater detail, is the more recent Spec Ops: The Line, a brilliant deconstruction of the overblown silliness of the modern military FPS. The player takes control of one Cpt. Martin Walker, a generic army superhuman protagonist who's journey would prove very different from his contemporary brethren. You see the initially eager captain undertake a doomed rescue operation in direct insubordination to what he has been tasked with doing. A couple of terrible, irreversible mistakes later, Walker's sanity slowly begins to decay, sinking deeper with each murder.

His noble goals are a distant memory, eventually reaching the point where he becomes exactly what he came to stop. The game is consistently making parallels with Heart of Darkness and the classic poem Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came, incorporating their elements deeply within its own narrative. In the words of Yahtzee Croshaw, the player could "merely represents the last vestige of self awareness in his increasingly damaged mind"

Moving on to Far Cry 3, the main character, Jason, follows a similar kind of progression like Martin Walker, but in FC3 case it was done with more subtlety; after defeating Vaas for good, Jason completes a bloody rampage which finally scars him beyond repair (at least on FC3 own merits). Montenegro's final words - being reborn - seem to have become true, because in the end, it is determinant whether Jason becomes what he despised for the first half of the game.

However, Far Cry 3 approach to insanity leans to awakening the beast within, embracing your dark side, contrary to Spec Ops' brutal parody of a decadent genre and the loss of morals; you can feel it as the heart of the island, infecting every man pillaging or imprisoned on its ground. It's all executed very well in FC3's case, and it appears this aspect was largely overlooked. Vaas' trademark line about insanity and what causes it is emblematic to the game itself.

2012 proved to be a great year for the theme of insanity, because there is one more gem which excelled in telling a disturbing story absolutely drowned in atmosphere: Hotline Miami. The neon-lit mayhem imbued in a constant synthesizer frenzy was nothing short of an instant hit, and beyond its compulsive gameplay lies a nightmarish story, if as directed by Nicolas Winding Refn, who was definitely a huge influence.

Contrary to the aforementioned games, we know nothing about the main character; there's a clue that he has damaged, conflcting mind. The inevitable slaughter he goes through has no reasoning, whatsoever; a hitman of no charge for his own telephone. The ending is true definition nihilistic: it was all done for the fun of two psychopaths, because "why not?"

Of course, these games wouldn't be what they are without the atmosphere that surrounds them. The snuff film vibe of Manhunt is unrelenting; it's set in a absurdly decaying fictional city of Carcer, a grim version of a rust-belt town. The heart beat sound effect is loud and unsettling, followed by insane screams and shouts of deranged psychopaths. The bleak, absurdly designed Dubai in Spec Ops never allows for a moment's resolve. The very islands in Far Cry 3 are toxic to whoever inhabits them. And, of course, Hotline Miami, the horrible drug-induced nightmare which is unfortunately too real for its main character.

I might have not covered all the games I wanted, perhaps in a future blog. Not many games left though, and they definitely deserve a mention of their own. In conclusion, the theme of insanity proved to be a great set-up for video games; the interactive part being key to the experience, in most cases. It's definitely an intriguing narrative, albeit not too common for obvious reasons, and it might just feel at home in video games. Just don't go insane yourself.