But now, reading the previous sentences again, I realize that's precisely why the game should be made into a movie. Congratulations, guy who told me so in a pub the week after that column came out. You were right, and your congratulatory beverage is already in the mail. It's only slightly used, I promise.
Drink up, kiddo. It's fine.
See, the main character in BioShock Infinite isn't really Booker DeWitt, or Elizabeth, or even that armored rhino-budgie hybrid stalking them. It's the flying city of Columbia itself, chock-full of early-20th-century racism, political extremes, and, most importantly, advanced technology and popular culture that should have no place in an era where people were still compensating ignorance with padded skirts and glorious mustaches. Sadly, the game soon throws its fantastic location in the backseat in favor of (admittedly impressive) story and (frankly mediocre) FPS antics, so the city doesn't really get the time in the limelight that it deserves.
So, let's fix that shit.
The Movie We Deserve:
You know what film franchise has been really, really good at putting the locations front and center? The Pirates Of The Caribbean series. I get that they're not exactly in vogue these days, thanks to Johnny Depp's ever-increasing credibility-suicide-by-mascara and increasingly lazy scripts that have managed to fuck up surefire gems such as Ian freaking McShane as Black freaking Beard. But if you revisit the first couple of films in the franchise, you'll notice one thing: Director Gore Verbinski and his team are very good at making the Caribbean and its many strange islands seem like the star, even when Misters J. Depp and G. Rush are doing their level best to chew each and every bit of scenery to pieces.
Walt Disney Pictures
It's a surprisingly close contest.