I have been writing about games for almost 15 years. NRK’s article about Mads “Ibelin” Steen from 2019 is the article I dream of writing once in my lifetime. Rarely has the general conversation about computer games hit so widely and so movingly, and the good conversations with friends and colleagues who have zero knowledge of computer games came almost continuously in the weeks that followed.
The article recounted the story of Mads Steen, the young man who died at the age of 25 after a lifetime of Duchenne muscular dystrophy, a rare disease that causes muscle wasting in boys. Parents Trude and Robert Steen sat back in grief, believing that their son had not been allowed to experience meaningful friendships, love or contribute to creating a better society. It would turn out that they were wrong, because when the parents published the news of their son’s death on Mads’ personal blog, several strangers contacted them. One after the other told stories about what Mads had meant to them and helped them. The common denominator was that they all belonged to the Starlight guild in World of Warcraft.
The main reason why the NRK article about Mads was so influential was that it was able to show that digital friendships and relationships have at least as much value as those we create in the ordinary world. Not only that, but for some people such digital friendships are the only form of social interaction they can have in their lives for various reasons. Those who play computer games have known this for a long time, but the article impressively managed to convey this to those who don’t play as well.
Five years after NRK published its article (which has become one of their most read and translated into several languages), the documentary Ibelin charts the same story in detail. To portray Mads’ digital life, director Benjamin Ree has teamed up with a small team of three people, who have painstakingly recreated all the dialogue and actions Mads experienced in World of Warcraft using 3D models taken directly from the game. The fact that the film has been allowed by Activision Blizzard to do this at all should be a stamp of quality in itself, because you can’t do something like that without further ado.
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The film’s combination of real footage of Mads and animated clips of the character Ibelin gives an explosive insight into a double life that is hard not to be impressed and moved to tears by. Seeing how Mads got worse and worse, at the same time as he came to mean more and more to his many friends in World of Warcraft, is a powerful testimony to how much people are capable of achieving, as long as you are allowed to contribute on your own terms. Ibelin should immediately become the syllabus for everyone who works with facilitation, inclusion and other social work, because this is strong food.
In real life, Mads was chained to a wheelchair by his illness, but in World of Warcraft, the chains were broken so he could create the life he dreamed of living. The result was no less than 42,000 pages of participant logs chock-full of dialogue, emotion icons and other data that the Starfield guild has shared with the Steen family and director Benjamin Ree. Combined with all the film clips that the Steen family themselves filmed with Mads while he was alive, this provides an enormous amount of source material to play on, and the film comes out very strong from its choice of highlights from these sources. As an added bonus, the film also offers excerpts from the blog that Mads himself wrote, where he spiced up his texts with self-deprecating sneers about his own condition and precise observations about life. That he died at such a young age before he could further develop his writing talent is a loss to humanity.
A film like Ibelin (and reflections on it) can quickly run the risk of speaking for the congregation without reaching out to those who do not understand computer games. Fortunately, it has managed to avoid that. Zero prior knowledge of computer games or World of Warcraft is required here, and the way Mads’ conversations with his friends are dramatized using the game’s own 3D models makes the story easy to follow and relate to. The educational and accessible tone that many will remember from the NRK case in 2019 lives on to the highest extent here, and this gives Ibelin the opportunity to reach out very widely.
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While the story of Mads’ digital life is told using World of Warcraft models, we also get interviews in the “real world” with several of his friends from Starlight. The stories they tell about the role Mads played in their lives are incredibly powerful and serve as another bridge-builder for those who think that friendship via computer games is just fuss and fuss. We hear how Mads helped them when they needed it most, but that he was not willing to show the same openness and vulnerability in return – understandable considering his life situation, but at the same time with a pronounced hurt from those who did not get the opportunity to give something back. With this, Ibelin becomes a strong reminder to the viewer of how important it is for us humans to open up to each other, as whole people.
The meeting with the Starlight guild members is strong, but this is also where we find the film’s one small weakness, as the director spends a lot of time focusing on people with major social problems. On the one hand, it is powerful to witness how Mads was able to help them when life was at its toughest, but when this is not balanced with a couple of stories from Starlight’s friends who did not experience as much opposition in life, I fear that the game skeptics’ impression of computer games are only for people with social problems can be strengthened.
The film does not shy away from the difficult times in Mads’ life, especially towards the end when his health became increasingly worse and his fear of death greater. The young man’s search for meaning, belonging and the need to have meant something to someone is expressed. With Ibelin, there is no doubt that Mads has had his wish fulfilled, and rightly so.
One day we will all die; on all other days we won’t. Ibelin is a strong reminder to live, appreciate life and nurture the good bonds of family and friendship where we can find them, even in those cases where life has dealt us some really bad cards. This is strong food, but it is also an important film that can build a bridge between game enthusiasts and those around who doubt that games can contribute to something positive. One of the most important films of the year is here, and it is a heartbreaking masterpiece. Watch it!
PS: Remember a handkerchief.