I was recently asked by a prospective reader to evaluate the novel "Mortal Kombat", which was intended as a prequel to the video game of the same name. (I decided to put way too much effort into it.) Obviously one should set low expectations for a prequel novel to a fighting game, but I am somewhat surprised that author Jeff Rovin still found a way to disappoint. The novel primarily suffers from the same flaws as the film sequel, in that it introduces far too many poorly conceived characters, throws them into a plotline they don't even understand (much less the audience) and focuses on the bizarre details of the setting, macguffins, and for some reason, the Evil Home Office. I also can't say anything too good about its attempts at humor, or for some of the decisions in creating the back stories of the characters.
The novel may have done better to have retained the focus of the first film, which was the original game: six fighters from different backgrounds in a relatively simple tournament. Instead, the novel begins with a very long largely history of Kung Lao, an ancestor of the character in the game, who was never really a distinctive character in the franchise to begin with. Much of the novel is also concerned with antagonist Shang Tsung's centuries of failure, disappointment, and wasting away, interspersed with squabbling and groveling to his superior. This is structurally backwards to most storytelling of this type, but sadly it is in no way a fresh, imaginative rewriting of the rules, it's just stupid. To compare it again to the film's more traditional approach (cliche would also be a reasonable adjective), the novel preemptively destroys all of the curiosity inspired by following the wide-eyed Liu Kang, Sonya Blade, and Johnny Cage deeper into the supernatural mystery of the tournament and the Outworld. I should take a moment to address any growing misconceptions and state that the film is still quite stupid, and it's only in comparison to this novel that the film's mildly entertaining storytelling starts to look like the Maltese Falcon. It was not sufficient to remove all the mystery surrounding Shang Tsung, he is also undercut by the author's presentation over several chapters of his constant defeats by Kung Lao, his bitterly droning inner monologue, as well as his obsequiousness towards the Outworld hierarchy, which make him about as imposing a villain as Carrot Top. The introduction of his Outworld master Shao Khan is particularly pointless, since he does not actually contribute anything but make Shang Tsung look pathetic. Pretty much every Outworld character introduced, instead of being exotic and frightening, comes off as incompetent. For example, the cameo by Baraka is a particularly pointless diversion.
When the novel eventually turns to its stated purpose, introducing the primary characters of the video game: a yipping warrior monk, a blonde spy, a thug with a laser pointer in his eye, a dead man with a fishing line, and an ice-cold ninja... sounds like the hot tub at Bryan's. Limiting himself to the six from the original video game only makes the time Rovin spends on the Outworld hierarchy and its minor characters even more bizarre. Having spent hundreds of pages (every one a page too many) on Kung Lao Sr. and Shang Tsung, when the primary characters are introduced their back stories are sadly truncated and clumsy, particularly Liu Kang, who only enters the story as a tag-along to Sonya Blade. What is curious is the exceeding strangeness of the details we do learn. Sub-Zero lives in a cave and supports his obviously modest lifestyle by acting as an assassin for a criminal organization, but only in exchange for scrolls documenting the history of ninjas. It seems to me all the time spent introducing Kung Lao and his village, or Shang Tsung's squabbling with his demon servants, could perhaps have been spent on telling us about something about how Sub-Zero came to be a freak living in a cave with some sort of SARS mask on, or at least something more than his reading habits. Even more strange is the part of the back story introduced in the game itself regarding Sub-Zero's murder of Scorpion. The novel begins after the murder has already taken place, and devotes more time to the curse placed on Sub-Zero for dumping the body in a river (again, more poorly explained supernatural elements with no follow-up) than the actual murder itself. When Scorpion rises from the dead to take revenge, this is also pointlessly complicated by having his soul occupy his son's body, negating the character's original concept, in which his finishing move involved removing his mask and revealing a bare skull underneath. It also adds very little beyond confusion, and removes much of the grim ambiguity of the character. Kano, one of the characters deemed too stupid and unpopular to continue in the video game franchise, is about the only character who gets any real development, even if he is a very well-worn cliche. Why Johnny Cage didn't even make the cut remains a mystery.
The final indignity is the attempts at humor, which are thankfully rare. The height of humor in this novel is illustrated by Kung Lao's hometown being cleverly named Wuhu. Apparently Rovin was unable to decide if that was his best material, because Kung Lao tells us that the town was previously known as Tekka Maki. Which brings up another interesting question, as to whether the author is aware that Asia is a very large continent with billions of people living in diverse, ancient cultures with different languages and culinary traditions, or if he thinks they all speak Asian. I just wondered because tekka maki is a tuna roll served at Japanese restaurants. If that wasn't quite enough, Sub-Zero's real name is Hamachi, also served at sushi restaurants. The
hilarity never ends.
All in all, this book doesn't ever commit sufficiently to its material to even be laughable. For example, in Star Wars: Jedi Search, the author puts a lot of work into constructing a believable scientist who loves her work that when she assures Han Solo that it's impossible for a repressive government to have found negative applications for her inventions, you believe she's in denial. When you find out she didn't think it was odd that the working names for the projects were the Death Star, the World Devastator, and the Sun Crusher... that's when it becomes so unintentionally hilarious that she's apparently been continuously whacked with a clue stick for 20 years without sparking her imagination at all. It's the clueless, clumsy moment following a lot of dedication and effort that's the payoff for reading a horrible franchised novel... when will they learn?
