In the third act of the Paul Rudd, Sean William Scott vehicle, Role Models, Danny and Wheeler (Rudd and Scott) accompany Augie (Christopher Mintz-Plasse) to a medieval role play in order to overthrow King Argotron (Ken Jeong) and take control of his kingdom, winning the hand of Maiden Esplen (Alexandra Stamler). And initially, I saw this as an interesting way for the denouement to bring the characters together and teach each one the value of team work, confidence, perseverance, blah, blah, and blah.
However, to my surprise, there are a wealth of individuals engaged in a subculture centered on recreational role playing – aside from dirty doctors, strippers, horny flight attendants, wayward schoolmarms, curious Christian-retreat members, sci-fi diehards, vampire enthusiasts, and life-size kittens if perchance you happen to be in the Furry crowd, which by the way veers well away from role playing and borders on accepted bestiality, but I suppose it’s still better than necrophilia. Not by much, but slightly.
All sexual connotations aside, Darkon exposes a world of men and women, teenagers and adults who devote a few weekends a month, and at times, a few days a week fortifying armies and developing strategies to expand their fictional territories. Each person dons a moniker, creates a position for themselves, and fashions some sort of weapon to use during each battle. There is no assigned rank when someone decides to enter one of the various territories in Darkon, so each member creates their own position –elf, ogre, nobleperson, servant, etc. – so entrance into this elaborate role play allows each person to potentially separate themselves from any semblance of their daily lives.
In particular, the elves are a rather fascinating group in that they seem the least inhibited by the political stratagems employed by most of the other members. In fact, they offer what I would consider the most rewarding aspect of creating a fictional life, one in which you can be the complete antithesis to an acceptable member of society. While the noblemen, leaders, wenches, and servants are expected to have integrity and play a diplomatic game that prolongs their existence in Darkon, elves are expected to backstab, sabotage, and support the highest bidding and most powerful army in battle. Politics matters little to the elves, and their function is to create chaos. While the game wouldn’t last long if chaos truly reigned, the chance to embrace chaos would certainly offer a truly alternative existence.
And, this is where Darkon, the movie and the alternate world, are the most intriguing. Within the documentary, an adult’s desire to become a member of Darkon and create an alternate existence often stems from a sense of stagnancy, sewn through a dead-end or monotonous job in which social or economic mobility is arrested. Similarly, teenagers who are socially uncomfortable because of weight, looks, etc., often enlist in the various Darkon corps to build self-confidence and, in some cases, fit exercise into their daily routines by practicing sword fighting, etc.
The intrigue here comes from the contradiction posed by assuming the life of a fictional character. While one character notes that he entered Darkon because chivalry, nobility, and justice have disappeared in the modern world, he seems to have lost sight of what happens in Darkon’s fluctuating borders: constant power plays in attempt to move up the social ladder and be useful to the current regime. So, while Darkon offers an escape from the ceilinged mundane, it only offers the illusion of unlimited potential. In other words, if you are socially retarded in your real life, you are more often than not going to hit a similar ceiling in the role play of Darkon, leaving you in a parallel position, just costumed. Likewise, if you’re in a management position like Kenyon (the leader of the most powerful territory, Keldar), then your skills can be translated to both worlds. In the end, Darkon offers a chance to maintain mobility, but for how long?
In contrast to Kenyon, we have Skip, the focus of Darkon. Skip is a stay-at-home dad because he was laid off, and his wife holds a management position, so her income is enough to shoulder the burdens of bills, etc. While it’s apparent that Skip loves his two children, he is far from content in his daily routine that includes laundry, cooking, cleaning, and being a caretaker. Often, he appears rather defeated and emasculated, something that reaches into a prior family feud in which his dream of taking over his father’s business was ruined by his older brother who fired Skip for punching him over a finance-focused altercation. So, in addition to being cast in a stereotypically feminine role and abdicating his money-making ability, Skip is also the black sheep of his family.
It’s clear that Luke Meyer and Andrew Neel intend to make Skip the protagonist of Darkon, and throughout the film we follow his attempt to build up Bannor (his fictional territory) and overthrow Keldar to become king of Darkon, which in Skip’s mind, would replace the perceived “shortcomings” of his real life. However, I found it very difficult to sympathize with Skip, not because of my ignorance to medieval role playing, house-fathering, or unemployment, but more so because he uses Darkon as an escape, not a respite, from responsibility.
What I mean to suggest is that Darkon pauses the daily lives of some, but it becomes all consuming for Skip, so much so that he disappears for full weekends at a time to fortify his armies and strategize. Likewise, a couple of nights during the week become planning sessions on the kitchen table, fully equipped with multiple army men of various colors to represent the different territories. For Skip, Darkon shifts from a hobby to an obsession, and while he might be discontent with his real-world social standing, his focus on the game often overshadows the real-world responsibilities he has acquired as a father and husband. This shift is seen when his wife notes that Skip leaves for weeks in the summer and she needs to be the breadwinner and caregiver for their children; likewise, the only time that Skip shows interest in his children’s lives are on Halloween and when they are taking an interest in medieval toys, which is ironic because Skip uses Darkon as an escape from his home life. So, what happens when his son, who is the most interested of the children, wants to go with his father? Other children join their parents for role plays, but Skips are left at home.
While I can’t say that I’ve felt what Skip feels, and while I think that Darkon – and other mass-role-playing activities – offer a fine escape from a hectic life, self-constructed responsibilities of a fictional world should not occlude real-world responsibilities that we have chosen to acquire. Passing the buck will only lead to failure, even in Darkon.
DYL MAG Score: 7