Dee Jay, Leroy, Gaming Representation and Why It Matters

The following is a script of a video essay I sadly don't have the time to edit and publish before the end of Black History Month. 

So, as part of my American Studies degree, I’ve been researching ICE; its methods, goals and especially the propaganda around it and the immigrants it is targeting. The language surrounding immigrants in the US (and my home country of Germany too, frankly) is vile, disgusting, intentionally dehumanizing and meant to enable the numerous breaches of law and decency on ICE’s part. Of course, that kind of propaganda hasn’t worked on everyone, but that it worked on anyone at all has made me think a lot about influence. Like, where do we get our ideas about ourselves and each other from? What infers our impression of people we don’t have much direct contact with? What are the potential consequences of lacking that exposure?

And what does all this have to do with two fighting game characters?

Let me explain:

Part 1: Fighting Games and “inherent representation”

What is the spirit, the core appeal of a fighting game? Competition, right? Both within a fighting game’s narrative and its intended audience, coming together to compete against one another is a common theme and kind of the entire point, respectively. Given that reality, any new fighting game that releases naturally attempts to accommodate as many different appearances, playstyles and personalities as it can, not just to appeal to as many players as possible, but because that’s inherently how fighting games work, ever since 1991’s Street Fighter II.

If competition is the spirit of a fighting game, then the tournament is its natural setting. The playable roster of Street Fighter 2 comes together for the World Warrior tournament which, as the name implies, is specifically themed around hosting fighters from all over the world representing their home nations and each coming with a signature fighting style and a distinct personality. This core element was immediately transferred over as SF II turned from a groundbreaking arcade fighting game to the originator of the fighting game genre as we know it today. TEKKEN’s King of the Iron Fist tournament, the KING OF FIGHTERS tournament, even the MORTAL KOMBAT tournament to an extent, all follow this formula not just because of Street Fighter 2’s success, but because it is simply the best and most obvious way to “set up” a fighting game.

The most genius thing to me personally, however, has got to be how all of this is communicated to players through character design alone. On an arcade machine, time is limited and every quarter’s a commitment. Considering this environment, even before any actual gameplay can take place, a fighter has to showcase the most important parts of their identity through a sprite on the character select screen. Let’s use Ryu as an example: there’s a certain intentional plain-ness to his design; after all, he’s a disciplined disciple and practitioner of his chosen martial art, something he identifies himself with first and foremost. As such, he wears little more than what the tradition of his fighting style bids him to wear. As a result, he comes off as stern and no-nonsense to an extent, which, in combination with his default stance not emphasizing any particular part of his body over the rest the way Chun-Li’s or Zangief’s do, effectively tells of his position as SF II’s most straightforward combatant and someone intended to be played by those trying to familiarize themselves with the basics of the game. Even after an immediate showcase of specific functionality became unnecessary due to arcades dying out, fighting game character design has largely remained very upfront in terms of presentation, because, at least in my opinion, it is still inherent to the genre. To fight is to show up, to believe in something and to stand for it. To represent it, so to speak. Every combatant, be it through their fashion, fighting style, demeanor or all of the above will freely tell of what they are about pretty much instantly. A fighting game does not have to be about representation to feature it, but instead features it by virtue of being a fighting game.

Lastly, I’d like to argue that there is also a certain level of respect that comes naturally with all this. In a setting where everyone is rather open about who they are and what they want, characters can be quick to realize what they have in common with their fellow fighters, who can be opponents, yes, but not necessarily enemies. They are perfectly fine with fighting each other, because that’s the point, but sharing that is something they can respect about each other, which I think can translate into both the approach developers take when designing their characters and the way the games’ community treats them. Admittedly, this does not always happen (and a failure in this regard deserves to be called out when it happens), but it usually means that a more distasteful rendition of a character will be altered in later entries.

Now, let’s finally talk about:

Part 2: Dee Jay, alive and vibrant

You can tell he’s Jamaican by his pants. Dee Jay has been a part of the Street Fighter franchise for a lot longer than I realized, debuting all the way back in Super Street Fighter II. Looking up sprites and other artworks of him from that game, he appears somewhat..understated to me? He still adheres to the immediate readability principle in my opinion; the bouncy stance and bright smile clearly telling of his kickboxing ability and friendlier disposition, but that’s kinda it? His first appearance focuses a lot more on getting a kickboxer into a fighting game than representing Dee Jay’s heritage or connection to music, at least on the visual front. He is called “Dee Jay”, he can whistle and pull out instruments in some animations during gameplay, but again, it’s nothing crazy. Dee Jay, throughout his first few appearances feels like a side character waiting to be pushed further, a rather plain design with his most interesting characteristics still waiting to be incorporated. Street Fighter V-era artwork adds some green to his design to invoke the Jamaican flag. Neat, I was wondering where he was from. Lore-wise, throughout the earlier games, Dee Jay goes from being only tangentially related to music through his rhythmic fighting style to becoming a musical sensation but it just does not come through in his appearance.

Dee Jay’s new Street Fighter 6 look is one of the greatest glow-ups I’ve ever seen in this genre. He genuinely went from a side character whose design had remained largely unchanged for decades to a beach party-hosting superstar DJ proudly repping his home nation and culture through music, all of which you don’t even have to play the game to find out. You can just.. LOOK AT HIM. The bare chest and the bright smile are still here and he gained some sick shades, headphones around his neck and his pants have been not just recolored but replaced with ones bearing the Jamaican flag, a decision I did make fun of earlier but does strike me as genius now. His previous incarnations look downright naked in comparison. This Dee Jay looks like a musician using street fighting as inspiration for his art. Encountering him in SF6’s World Tour mode sees him host a party he is all too willing to invite you to, and who could say no? He is the most charming character in this game and owns every second of screen time he gets. Even playing him doesn’t ruin this presentation; his exaggerated kickboxing moves, feints and unique variable supers make sure his style translates extremely well into gameplay. His story interactions with Kimberly are cute and make sense, considering her connection to music and fandom of him. In my opinion, there was never really that much to latch on to with DeeJay, even if you were a fan of or even belonging to his culture or fighting style. In SF6, however, I cannot imagine a person who could hate him except for game balance-related reasons. He makes a great impression, and while I can’t speak about how well he represents his home country, musical or martial art for obvious reasons, his version of them certainly doesn’t leave a bad taste in my mouth.

Part 3: Leroy Smith, Swag and Perseverance

Dee Jay may have taken a while to unlock his full potential, but the TEKKEN devs NAILED Leroy’s design first try. Of course, that’s hardly a fair comparison considering that DeeJay was released with Super SF II in the 90s whereas Leroy was added as a DLC character for TEKKEN 7 in late 2019. He is the Grandmaster of Drip and an all around cool dude, even if he was horribly unbalanced at first. His is a story of loss and reconciliation, of the willingness to fight for one’s home and culture no matter who or what tried to take it from him or him from it. He is serious about his pursuit to liberate New York from Mishima-backed gangs and honing his Wing Chun skills. He’s well-traveled and especially connected to Hong Kong, where he got his fighting style from. He’s also technically both literally and culturally orphaned, over 50 but not too old and serious about his motivations but still soaked in fun uncle/grandpa vibes for his connection to Xiaoyu.

All this is a lot to communicate in one design, so thankfully Leroy has had two major incarnations to try and tie it all together. That being said, his T7 appearance already covers a lot of it, mainly his status as a Wing Chun practitioner and his age. To me, he seems a lot more closed off in his T7 render, with most of body covered in a white robe with a dragon motif, symbolizing his time spent practicing Wing Chun in China. He presents himself more as a classic old master of his martial art, if much different from the usual trappings of this trope. I’d call it “half-way between Heihachi (who’s age amounts to little more than grey hair in his design) and characters like Tung Fu Rue and Chin Gentsai (who are more defined by their age as wise old mentors). The grey hair is there, but the cane is mostly for show and a free rage drive. Between him and JP from SF6, I think we can look forward to a lot more varied “old man”-designs in the future.

I think this is Leroy returning to New York after years of practice in Wing Chun to the point he identifies himself with that more than the city he was born in and that he is now re-entering to both improve it and get revenge on those who took his potential adolescence in it from him. His look in TEKKEN 7 borrows little from the place, though, and I think it’s because at this point, he does not feel all that connected to it yet. We catch him in a moment before he has fully reclaimed his heritage and, to me at least, there is a lot of both tragedy and inspiration to it. Not sure if I’m reading into it too much, but I like that I can. I’m also glad his dog Sugar exists to balance out the heavy themes around Leroy and show that all this hasn’t left him fully detached.

TEKKEN 8 changes little in his design, but what it does change says a lot about Leroy; mainly how he has embraced more of New York in his appearance. His TEKKEN 8 render depicts him in one of his stances, as he is still a proud practitioner of Wing Chun, but his robe hangs around his shoulders like an open jacket now and beneath it black now instead of red. He’s also showing off his tattoos now, at least the ones on his forearms, and whilst his outfit overall is still very ornate it feels less traditional. Also, WHAT ARE THOSE? Tekken 7 Leroy wore shoes covered in a kind of spotted fur that looked more like they just came with the robe rather than being a conscious choice to add on his part, these look like they can kill. Still, the scales on them and his pants invoke the dragon, but the difference is night and day.

Of course, I can’t say if this makes him look more like a black guy from New York (I spent most of my vacation there in the most tourist-filled places in Manhattan) but he certainly feels more free. For instance, TEKKEN 7 Leroy wears gold because it’s part of the symbolism of his fighting style, so it’s on his robe and the amulet (?) he wears. TEKKEN 8 Leroy picked up a taste for it, so now his shoes and his shades are golden as well. I’d say he is reintegrating quite nicely, always ready to get serious and defend his new old home, but having fun with it as well. In TEKKEN 8’s character episode on him, he enters the tournament as a chance end the mishima zaibatsu’s influence in NYC forever. Then, in his ending, he has a cute encounter with Xiaoyu who gives him the opportunity to showcase his potential mentor-side and just take the edge off a bit. Sugar got a cute new outfit too!

All in all, Leroy is an incredible character whose story explores themes that I didn’t expect to find in a fighting game, but make perfect sense for one on second thought. He’s a cool dude who’s been through a lot but persevered and found passion and purpose in life doing it. He’s reclaiming his heritage and fighting for his community and he does it all with discipline, but he can smile and laugh when he sees fit to do so. Truly inspirational stuff, I don’t know what else to say.

Except…

Part 4: The Point

“Your ideas about who you are don’t just come from within yourself, they come from the culture.” This quote by Richard Dyer appears in the 1996 documentary movie The Celluloid Closet, which is about the treatment of queer people and queerness in general in Hollywood movies. I first heard about it in the at this time latest video by British video essayist Hbomberguy and it really stuck with me, because it isn’t just about the self; entire minority groups being excluded harms both its own and everyone else’s perception of it. In a culture so defined by media consumption, who gets to be represented properly in media matters because if any group of people can be written out of media, they can be removed from culture, from the average consumer’s sight and appreciation.

It’s still Black History Month as I’m writing this, and as a person from Germany’s equivalent to the middle of nowhere who tends to just stay inside and consume media over the internet, I’ve gained most of my understanding of and appreciation for black people, their contributions to society and culture, as well as the challenges they face to this day from music and video games. For me personally, this understanding has since been deepened through my studies and the few but amazing black friends I made online; paths and connections I chose because both the progressive environment I grew up in and the media that was available for me to absorb encouraged me to. I’m not saying I can’t be racist, but that I don’t think I could be convinced to actively and consciously discriminate against them based on what to me seem like arbitrary stereotypes.

It appears, however, that given the right conditioning and lack of exposure, large groups of people can be convinced of an inherent malevolence within a certain demographic that justifies stripping them of their status as humans who are deserving of any rights except the right to remain silent, turned into a command at gunpoint. Now, I’m not saying that adding a Mexican immigrant to Street Fighter 6 would fix this, just that representation matters and fighting games (and gaming overall) need to keep it up. We need to recognize that every instance of manufactured outrage against the inclusion of minority-representing characters out of this medium is an attempt at pushing their real-life counterparts, so to speak, out of the gaming space entirely. It would be a shame to lose amazing characters like Dee Jay and Leroy, but even more of one to lose the people they fight for.

Presently, gaming, be it cooperating or competing, can bring together every kind of person on equal grounds. Some institutions, however, have recognized its potential to divide people instead. There’s a reason ICE Agents liken their crimes to Call of Duty and the US government posts AI-generated halo memes. Who gets to be in a game, in a gaming community or even in a country at all is being decided right now and those who get cast out may be lost forever. Boycott Microsoft, everyone. We all deserve a place.