[ad_1]
"The information contained in this game has no intentional connection with individuals, groups, areas, incidents or ideas," reads on the mobile game's startup screen. BTS World, just below the face of one of the seven members of the group K-pop Bangtan Sonyeondan. The game does not seem to want to deal with a cognitive dissonance, but with the one on which it is based.
The main story sees the protagonist relocated from 2019 to 2012, before the band debuts or even meets. She (and the English translation only uses her / his, a genre that Korean probably does not need to treat as a language that rarely uses pronouns) immediately begins to form the group she loves, bringing them together and by managing as they prepare for their debut.
This puts the player in a position to "know" the group. In addition to generally discussing as the story unfolds, players are also able to communicate with group members via social media, SMS and phone calls. The attraction of becoming so close to the characters is common in mobile games and visual novels, but BTS World is different. Here, the characters are facsimiles of real people. Each conversation is supported by photographs, audio recordings and videos made by members of the group.
The draw is forming or, more likely, reinforcing the parasocial relationships with BTS members. The term refers to a sense of closeness, usually between a fan and a celebrity. The fan observes the celebrity through entertainment, social media, etc., and feels they know them, even if he sees only a distorted fragment that is never the same as knowing personally a nobody. Celebrity, of course, usually has no idea of their existence.
Parasocial relations are by no means unique to K-pop, but gender has used them incredibly effectively. Idol groups, more than most groups, allow fans to "live" their lives through video journals, social media, variety television shows, and more. No one has been better at cultivating these relationships than the BTS juggernaut.
Take, for example, a recent article in L & # 39; Atlantic by Lenika Cruz, entitled "I was not a fan of BTS. And then I was. "She writes:
I tend to explain the attractiveness of BTS: imagine that the players of your favorite sports team (the members train like athletes, after all) are also your favorite musicians and the stars of your favorite reality TV show and you also think of them as family members.
Imagine BTS, or any celebrity, being as close as family can be a safe pleasure. The investment increases the enthusiasm generated by everything they do and leads to strong fellowship within the "in" group. But it works very finely. Cruz spoke to the old Edge Editor Laura Hudson, who had tweeted about joining the group and being overwhelmed by fans, is a kind of "cult". "But if it's a cult … it seems to be centered on positivity and acceptance," Hudson says.
This is not always true. A feeling of protection can lead some parts of the fan base to quickly form crowds of harbadment. Tamar Herman, the Billboard Group correspondent, for example, recently demonstrated a death threat she would have received, apparently from a BTS supporter, and answers to her questions. tweet are full of justifications as to why she deserved it.
Again, this is not unique to K-pop, but fans who exceed the criteria are sufficiently prevalent in this industry to have their own name: sasaeng. The term generally refers to a person who invades the privacy of an idol, perhaps breaking into his home, finding and calling his personal phone number, or trying to take it or kissing it when it is in public. Ironically, the protagonist of BTS World sometimes feels like she's moving into sasaeng territory. She certainly works from pre-existing parasocial relationships with the group, as a fan of the future totally thrilled to have the opportunity to meet her idols.
When the rapper Min "Suga" Yunki appears for the first time, for example, a heartbeat is repeated on his form, which appears on the screen. And even though I got into the game with an understanding of what parasitic relationships are and why the game would encourage them, I'd be lying if I did not say that my own heartbeat was picked up when I saw my favorite member. I love Suga. I saw him go from a super-skilled theater artist to the smile of a young man who plays games with his brothers in the group and speaks (apparently) frankly about his mental health problems. I do not know him. But I feel like I do it.
As a result, the game facilitates the setting up of the protagonist. I am excited every time I unblock a piece of additional Suga content because I can chat with him more. The same is true for others. "I just want you to be happy," I texted Park Jimin. I can even equip them more for my taste, by putting Jung "J-Hope" Hoseok in a pink sweater and headband, because I think it looks more cute.
It also means it's easy to overlook things that go well beyond a manager-client relationship. Kim "Jin" Seok-jin tells me that he is still thinking of me while eating. "It's even more delicious," he says. Suga rings on my phone and I have the opportunity to say that "the most beautiful of all" sends an SMS.
The lines become even more blurry in the "Another Story" section, which is poorly explained, but the protagonist meets the band members as though they had never entered the music. Of course, being from 2019, she always knows who they are and inserts into their lives. She finds a job in the same dog shelter as J-Hope; moved to live in the district of Kim "RM" Namjoon. Jeon Jungkook, a fifteen-year-old high school student, repeatedly refuses to suggest that she go out for dinner, but she persists until he agrees.
As PolygonPalmer Haasch is well identified, the game is fundamentally different from the fan fiction auto-insert. Stories where fans imagine meeting and making friends with famous characters they admire have existed for decades, if not longer. But for as long, the ethics of distorting the real lives of people like this for entertainment purposes is the subject of debate.
But this mobile game developed by professionals is a clear escalation. Almost all real fans are non-profit organizations, created for the entertainment of their authors. BTS Worldon the other hand, have been materialized by those who have contracts with the work, similarities and livelihoods of BTS. And they did not do it for the sake of fans who might want to take advantage of a self-inserting story, but to get money out of them.
Players can pay for gashapon style rewards, draw cards that offer statistics to advance the game, releasing more interactions with the group. They also feature an image, or in the case of rare five-star cards, a GIF, a member that can be downloaded once unlocked. The collection of all these cards is encouraged, which would probably cost thousands of dollars thanks to the low drop rate of the rarest cards. And even outside the game, the increased sense of closeness caused by "chatting" with the group is likely to generate sales of albums, derivative products, and so on.
BTS members have been characters for a long time, on social networks, TV shows and even in their music. Without knowing them personally, no one can say how much this represents performance; what aspects of themselves are exaggerated or left unexplored. But it is clear that literally transforming them into game characters further blurs this distinction between people, to bring fans even closer to their idols – hoping to shell out more money.
[ad_2]
Source link
