Dominic Rozenberg takes a look at the recent banning of Marc Ecko's Getting Up: Contents Under Pressure.

On February 15th, 2006, the Office of Film & Literature Classification announced that the upcoming Atari title Marc Ecko's Getting Up: Contents Under Pressure had been Refused Classification after an appeal to the Classification Review Board. The game, previously given an MA15+ for "Strong violence, strong themes" (whatever that means to consumers) on November 18th 2005 by the OFLC, is just another casualty in the government's videogame censorship crusade. Yet it is a seemingly bizarre candidate, but if you dig beneath the surface, it becomes clear that Getting Up is the victim of an increasingly politicised system that has gaming in its sights.

So how does Getting Up fall prey to the absolute power of the Review Board, when the vast majority of games walk free? According to the media release made by the OFLC, the catch is that anything that "promotes, instructs or invites a matter of crime or violence" must be Refused Classification. Still scratching your head? I know I was when I read it: not a few days earlier I'd been beating citizens and extorting shop-owners in True Crime: New York City, taken great pleasure (and been thoroughly rewarded) for evading the police and illegal street racing in Need For Speed: Most Wanted, and made a tidy profit couriering drugs and committing armed robberies in Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas.

You're probably wondering then, much like me, what the hell promoting, instructing or inviting a matter of crime means. According to Maureen Shelley, Convenor of the Classification Review Board, it has to do with "enabling" crime or criminal behaviour; in other words, providing the know-how, the techniques, or the ability to break the law. And this in turn relates to the interactivity of the videogame medium- the planning of the Great Train Robbery, or the graphic portrayal of heroin use in Trainspotting or Pulp Fiction doesn't count because it's passive. So somehow, the ability to press X on your controller while vigorously wiggling the thumbstick is seen to be dangerously close to the real-life act of spray-painting a wall. Yeah, I'm a little dubious too. Especially since Shelley herself said that if Getting Up was a film, it probably wouldn't have been banned.

The comment came in a recent interview Shelley gave to Triple J's "Hack" program, in which she was quite defensive- with good reason I'd say, since it was her vote alone that broke the 2-2 deadlock, in essence making her the reason the game was banned. Interestingly, she said that whether Getting Up makes people commit crimes is "not what they have to determine", rather whether it could incite or encourage criminal behaviour. It's an important distinction according to Dr. Jeffrey Brand, given there's no hard evidence linking violence to videogames. Personally I don't think you need a thesis to tell you that: both World Wars, all the Crusades and the Holocaust all happened well before Pong began corrupting the minds of our youth.

Dr. Brand says that it's time the public demanded evidence from the government that these videogames are indeed harmful, and he reveals a little known fact about the controversial ruling: the public did not complain about the game, the government did. The review came on the basis of complaints made by local councils in Queensland to the attorney general, ostensibly on behalf of their constituents, no doubt. This overzealous knee-jerk reaction to a perceived moral panic makes them seem tough on crime and proactive, but like most preemptive strike policies, it was made with no basis in reality. In fact by banning the game, they've raised its public profile and made it a hot commodity because it's now illegal. This is one of the inherent ironies of the classification system, but I don't think anyone is laughing.

More frightening was the revelation- quite proudly might I add- by Shelley that the Review Board spent "30 hours cumulatively" with Getting Up. This may sound like a lot of time, but for 4-5 members and including the demonstration sessions, this boils down to around 5 hours apiece. I've played it, and can tell you it takes about 15 hours to complete, and that the storyline really doesn't kick in until about halfway into the game. Combined with the fact the complaining local councils couldn't possibly have played the unreleased game when they complained way back in January, how do we as gamers or the public know the game got a fair chance?

In a follow-up interview on Triple J, an understandably pissed off Marc Ecko responded to the news his game had been banned, and made a few interesting points. The first of which was that if his game had been presented under a "cartoonish veil" this would never have happened. A clear reference to Sega's anti-authority graffiti-fest Jet Set Radio Future if I've ever heard one, but no less valid a comment. Photo-realistic graphics are only going to become more common in this high-definition age, and the more realistic an interactive experience is, the greater the chance of the OFLC cracking down on it---hard.

Ecko also claimed that the classifiers have "too many grey hairs in front of their eyes," and while the crew at OFLC aren't exactly spring-chickens, I'm assuming he meant this in a metaphorical sense. Are the so-called "community values" the board members represent out of step with reality? Given the findings of Dr. Jeffrey Brand's 'Gameplay' research, it's hardly a baseless allegation. According to the 'Gameplay' findings, the average age of gamers was 24, and that around 50% have some sort of tertiary education qualifications; in other words, these are hardly the segment of society likely to go out and spray-paint the nearest war memorial after playing a game like Getting Up. Moreover, fully 9 out of 10 respondents felt Australia needed an R18+ rating for videogames. Clearly then, there is a discrepancy between what people think and what government is thinking for them.

As gamers, we tend to lose sight of the financial impact such Draconian measures as banning a game has on publishers and developers. I feel especially sorry for Atari, already feeling the pinch and besieged from all sides, the company's Australian arm promoted Getting Up quite extensively, including cinema, print and online advertising. Atari were understandably tight-lipped about just how much they spent on Getting Up, but to have your game banned mere days before the anticipated launch (the game shipped in the UK/European PAL regions on February 17th) must have been a stunning blow.

While I'm no fan of lawyers, it's a damn shame Atari can't sue for all the money they spent promoting and manufacturing the game between OFLC's November MA15+ ruling and the subsequent flip-flop. And they are considering their options, but thanks to the usual bureaucracy, they'll have to wait 28 days for the Classification Review Board's official findings before they can do anything. It's not a total loss for them though: the game is freely available across the Tasman in New Zealand.

At this stage, the long-term repercussions of games being Refused Classification is unclear- some will argue there isn't any, but the writing is, if you'll excuse my pun, already on the wall. According to Atari, Eidos's controversial 25 to Life has been yanked from the PAL schedule, and while Atari are adamant it had nothing to do with Getting Up's classification woes, the prospect of the title being outright banned will surely be a consideration. And with the anti-authority, anti-government undertones in Getting Up arguably being a factor in its fate, we can only wonder if American McGee's highly political Bad Day L.A. is likely to meet a similarly ignominious banning death.

For now, the in-game catch cry of "still free" rings hollow in our land girt by sea- and invisible censorship barricades. Consenting adults who feel they have every right to play this game and others will be forced to send their hard-earned Aussie dollars overseas and import, constantly looking over their shoulders in fear of the CCK, or whatever shadowy forces "The Man" employs in Australia.

Article by Dominic Rozenberg.