Death sucks.
I mean, I guess, unless you’re playing some sort of game where you happen to die a lot. But, for most characters, they can’t say that they die ‘a lot’. They probably won’t get a chance to say it once.
The following is going to be a musing on what death is, with no metaphysical forces involved except for an unhealthy dose of opinion. (Or should we say, a lethal dose – GETS SHOT.) It’s not motivated by any sort of weird feelings of mine or by any recent events, so no, I’m not contemplating suicide or suddenly becoming an adventurer. If anything, this comfy, padded cell is pretty nice.
(Although, the timing is rather on-point with the Orlando shooting. There might be some kind of priming going on there.)
Anyway, go away monkey mind. Today, I’d like to argue that death is largely a mechanical failure. Because it puts into some perspective how absolutely horrible the process must be. (If you would like to speak from experience, be my guest. Wait. No! Monkey mind! Get out!) We’re not going to talk about whether consciousness comes from a soul, AT field, cognitive science, evolution, or flying pigs. All that matters is that you count as dead once an outside viewer can no longer observe your consciousness.
That’s the thing, though. Just because you can’t actually express yourself doesn’t mean all of you is dead. A wilted flower probably has a number of cells still living, albeit not for much longer. A crashed computer might have a misplaced pointer or a wire cut somewhere, but most of it works fine. A comatose patient can’t speak, but they still breathe and sleep. There’s a lot of parts which are still functioning, but the end result is no longer the pretty, organized, and complete system that we’d like to see.
Just because an outsider can’t see your behavior, doesn’t mean that you still don’t have feeling. If we assume that you still feel pain after you’ve lost consciousness, that’s where things get disturbing. Let’s say a hypothetical you gets shot in the head and loses consciousness, and the only actual cells damaged are the ones in the brain. If you are shot, again, then those damaged neurons are still going to fire off pain receptors. The undamaged parts of your skin and organs will still have oxygen for a time, and will slowly die out as they run out. The areas in your lungs will continue to function until they run out of glucose. An amputated arm won’t actually cease to live for several hours. It might not be a long time until every last cell has actually died.
Physical diseases are just situations where the body breaks down before the mind does. Mental diseases are where the brain cannot function at optimal capacity, but enough of it works to create consciousness. If anything, consciousness is an arbitrary (yet important) threshold which doesn’t determine whether the majority of cells and organs are actually alive or dead. You could be mostly alive, but without a functioning mind (and therefore typically considered dead), or… you could stand and fight until you can no longer stand.
The scary part is when you no longer assume that lethal damage actually means that you’re dead. Getting stabbed in the throat doesn’t mean your brain runs out of oxygen for several more seconds, which could still be enough to fight back. Losing an arm doesn’t mean you run out of blood for quite a long time. There can be this relatively long period where you know that you’re going to die, but your brain hasn’t shut down yet. This period could be a time measured in minutes or hours, long enough to actually win the fight and (depending on level of technology) seek medical attention. And this is why mechs are cool.
Okay. Switching to narrative perspectives for a moment, the dramatic value of an actor is proportional to how long they survive in a fight. Protagonists usually survive the fight. Expendable cannon fodder probably survives for a few seconds per individual. However, fights which feel evenly matched are cooler and more dramatic, and an even matchup is demonstrated by longer fights and more battle damage per actor throughout the fight, approaching but not exceeding the visual threshold of death. It really doesn’t matter how impairing the damage actually is, just how much there is. For humans, this is a bit of a problem. People can survive a lot of wounds for a little while, and then they presumably malfunction and die. This is bad for your action hero protagonist, which is why all the Stormtroopers conveniently miss instead. But, somewhere along the line, we assumed that machines don’t really bleed to death or fail slowly – all the remaining parts operate at 100% capacity. (Which should be wrong – losing large chunks of armor should destabilize the machine or warp joints so they can no longer rotate, or at the very least cut wires and hydraulics. But who cares, have some explosions!) In other words, robotic actors can take substantial amounts of damage, ranging from superficial to amputations, and continue to operate at full story capacity without destroying the narrative. You really can’t cut off someone’s arm and say that they win the fight, but it works with robots.
Now, I’m going to burn some of my nerd cred here, but I’ve only seen Evangelion for my mecha anime. But, some friends pointed me towards some Gundam clips recently, and they do an interesting case of combat drama here. Particularly, there’s two moments where we get to see the extremely disturbing perspective (2:52 and 3:25) of two people dying inside their robots. They go from full combat effectiveness to dead in, uh… really, really fast. The other dramatic part with giant robots is that there’s a bit of a disconnect between the robot and the pilot. There’s tons of armor and heavy weaponry between yourself and personal danger, and you can keep fighting until you – the pilot – are hit by bullets bigger than a car. And at that point it becomes extremely personal before being obliterated.
(The end of the clip also has a good point where the two remaining suits have their front chest armor bisected – exposing the pilots without any remaining armor – and yet they function perfectly fine.)
(Evangelion instead assumes that the Evas are more durable than the average weapon, and can take hits without obvious damage. Still a disconnect, but a very different one.)
Typical film combat for people also involves a lot of avoiding blows, like Gundam, until a decisive hit ends the battle. It’s interesting, though, since people can actually function for quite a while when wounded. That’s not how it works in movies. Take, for example, this clip (at 3:36). The assassin character does fancy things and then… knives two people wearing full suits of armor straight in the chest, killing them instantly. Even if we assume that the knives go straight through armor and the ribcage, a hole in your lung doesn’t kill you instantly. If anything, you have a spare. In this case, the soldiers die instantly to show off how AmAzInG the assassin guy is, but it’d be completely different if both of them survived and kept fighting for another thirty seconds. Different in tone, and it’d discredit the assassin a bit, but it might show that fighting through all these soldiers actually takes some work.
(Why is it that in all CGI things, if they want to show that there’s a lot of a something, they put in exactly two copies of it? There’s two bridges at a time, with exactly two guys on each one, with two archers shooting per bridge.)
(Man, it’s a good thing we’re not looking at assassin guy’s back when he uses his sword. It’d be too long for a back scabbard. I mean, sure, it looks cool. But it doesn’t geometrically work for Genji and it doesn’t work here.)
(Mage lady needs some armor, seriously. We already know she’s female, she doesn’t need a target on her chest. Why do the mooks get better armor? Does the armor make them weaker for some reason?)
(Oh right, I was writing a thing.)
Anyway. I can’t think of a recent film which had a human-scale fight where a combatant took more than superficial damage, like a broken arm. (I vaguelly recall Iron Man the first, where Tony Stark gets bloodied, and some Spiderman films where Peter Parker also gets bloodied. All superficial, if I remember right.) I think it’d add a scary – and human – level of drama to a fight. I’ve got some ideas for one.