Is Bayonetta More Than Sacrilegious Brawling?

This column is a reprint from Unwinnable Monthly #187. If you like what you see, grab the magazine for less than ten dollars, or subscribe and get all future magazines for half price.

———

Finding digital grace.

———

Bayonetta is one of the few really high-profile games to lean into a religious setting, if far more irreverently than even the likes of Dante’s Inferno, which is also on the docket for this column. Crucially though, Bayonetta isn’t actually trying to be ignorantly offensive in the ways something like Bioshock Infinite is.

This is also only touching on the first Bayonetta. I intend to play the entire quadrilogy, so we’ll be checking in as I go. A sub-series within an on-going series of columns?! Yeah, we’re getting spicy, which is fitting for a series all about the world’s most combat-ready dominatrix witch fighting the hellish and divine with pole dancing, machine pistols, panther transformations and hair-clothes. Yes, you read that sentence right.

Yeah, there is a lot to unpack with Bayonetta’s world, and how it all works, but I have a word limit and this intro is probably already worryingly long for David. [Ed. Note: it was.] Don’t worry, he’ll get that this is all metatextual flavoring because if there is one thing Bayonetta embodies, it’s playful irreverence.

You see, our eponymous heroine is bound to a hellish contract that requires she kill angels (see: spear toting ostrich bird men and weird abstract monsters made of marble) or be dragged to hell. While she keeps up her end of the bargain, she’s functionally immortal, immensely powerful and able to pierce the veil between realities.

See, Bayonetta starts off with you thinking it’s a more mundane urban fantasy setting, but the writers actually got really clever with the metaphysics. This isn’t your great- great- great- great- great-grandfather’s Catholicism. This is more . . . The Matrix but the Merovingian is Hell and The Machines are Heaven. Humans are a resource. Creation is a mutually guarded but contested warzone between these opposing factions. You’ve got Inferno, Paradiso, Earth and Purgatorio in the middle, which is basically a ghost dimension. This is less surprising when you learn that for projector director Hideki Kamiya, one of the places he drew inspiration from was actually Scandinavian mythology.

Most obviously, Balder is Bayonetta’s father. Alfheim can be ventured to for challenge rooms. The place where the game’s Lumen Sages and Umbra Witches meet is clearly inspired by Jorumgandr the world snake, as is the boss you face there. Though “Jubileus” is referred to by Paradisans as The Creator, she’s not actually capital G singular god in this context, but more akin to Shiva and Vishnu as one being. The closest we have to “God” is instead a being known as Aesir, who intentionally gave magic to humanity as the divine courts twisted themselves into disarray. Aesir isn’t quite a Deist’s absentee or uncaring god – if anything, Aesir favors humanity to Heaven and Hell, granting them powers and artifacts to combat the other realms. Granted, he’s also the “God of Chaos” in this realm and, apparently, I’ll be seeing more of him in the sequel.

So structurally, this theological world works like Scandinavian myths, but in terms of hierarchy, it’s far more Hindu. Except moralistically we’re loosely bouncing between Nietzsche and Kant, especially since perception is a fundamental part of how Bayonetta’s world works. All with some dualism layered on top. It’s either the most haphazardly assemblage of theological concepts I’ve ever seen or one of the most intricate; I’m still not sure which! But I digress.

As self-serving as Bayonetta may appear, she does actually care for her friends and ensuring humanity persists despite the metaphysical squabbles around her. When frenemy Luka accuses her of murdering his father and being nothing but cold hearted, we can see that unsettle her across her face. She does have a moral compass; it’s just distinctly attuned to the harsh realities of her whole existence. This is even further emphasized when you realize that the witches and sages raised up by Aesir are the only humans who can’t resurrect.

There is a lot going on here between an intro indulging in someone’s nun fetish and a finale that sees Bayonetta riding a motorcycle into space to fight a world destroyer/creator to prevent the apocalypse. I don’t even have time to get into the complexities of the Lumen Sages and Umbra Witches. It’s much more high brow than you’d anticipate from a game where spanking an enemy senseless is a good way to keep your combo meter rising.

This isn’t some His Dark Materials situation of bitter condemnation, nor is it a Rise of the Tomb Raider where it refuses to commit to the bit. Instead, Bayonetta’s true heroism comes from defying the system. It’s little surprise Bayonetta’s become such an icon and potent allegory for the queer community. Her existence is fundamentally spiting her world’s Heaven and Hell equally, while strutting her stuff with immense confidence.

Even the sexual aspects of her character – as has been highlighted by other writers in the past – is much more fem-gaze and empowering. She is loving every minute of herself, and making this brief existence work for her. And she safeguards her friends along the way. She might tease them and keep them at arm’s length . . . but she does actually care.

And it’s funny because that defiance is the one area where she palpable aligns with one of my favorite New Testament stories that has become increasingly relevant over the last few years. We hear a lot about how Jesus made enough food for people, how He walked on water, but you know what doesn’t come up a lot? The time Jesus picked up a whip and chased tons of charlatans out of the Temple in Jerusalem for trying to twist the system to their own ends. Both stand as opposition to their status quos – insisting that there has to be a better way. They obey the rules to the best of their ability, but they don’t turn away from people that society would consider undesirable.

Like, we don’t have time to get into her buddy Enzo (who has a perfect Joe Pesci impression – it’s just, Chef’s Kiss, perfect), but he very much fits the definition of an Old and New Testament tax collector mindset. Bayonetta’s fearless energy about her sexuality would have her just as easily hanging out with sex workers respectfully. Bayonetta is definitely not her world’s Christ, don’t get me wrong. In particular, I’m personally not quite comfortable with some of the torture attacks she inflicts. However, much like Duke Nukem in the ’90s, she exists in a world that is somehow more uncaring and cruel at times than our own. Yet in her insistence, in her sheer embodiment of fighting for free will? There is more going on here that doesn’t contradict Abrahamic sentiments than I think most have assumed.

And I do get that some may interpret her as more resembling Lucifer for her rebellious nature, but that’s not Bayonetta’s vibe. She doesn’t want to rule. She just wants to live. She wants to be free of all this bullshit and be absolutely fabulous while doing so. That’s not Devil-like, that’s the energy of someone who can make the Devil scream in frustration, and from what I understand, that’s precisely what she gets up to in the next game. And I look forward to it!

———

Elijah Beahm is an author for Lost in Cult that Unwinnable graciously lets ramble about progressive religion and obscure media. When not consulting on indie games, he can be found on BlueSky and YouTube. He is still waiting for Dead Space 4.