In Part I of our Team Assault Q&A with God of War II writers J.M. Barlog and Marianne Krawczyk , the two discussed how they worked with Sony Santa Monica, as well as the balancing act required to create cutscenes that are long enough to be engaging, but short enough to avoid keeping players on the sidelines for too long. In Part II, our Q&A with the writers concludes with a discussion of why Kratos and Tony Soprano have a lot in common; film critics who hate on videogames; and the difference between working with Cory Barlog and David Jaffe .

Kratos is arguably an even more unsympathetic protagonist in God of War II than its predecessor. Does the fact that Kratos is the gamers' avatar, and that we gamers play out Kratos' actions--i.e. his sacrificial murder of the two translators, or his killing of heroes like Perseus and Icarus--instill in us a basic level of sympathy that you can assume is in no danger of being permanently destroyed? Or were there plot points and narrative devices that you employed to preserve our sympathy for Kratos as he committed certain heinous acts, even though his behavior is entirely in character?

Krawczyk: This is an interesting question. Many a God of War II discussion revolved around keeping Kratos true to his character, which wasn't as easy as it seems. Every time he started to act in a noble manner, we knew it wasn't him, and we'd have to stop and rethink. It's not any different from writing any character, really. In the original God of War, I used to drive David Jaffe crazy with the comparison of Kratos to Tony Soprano, but I still stand by it. Kratos is a guy that kills for a living, yet, like Soprano, he has this whole family life that makes him easier for us to relate to, and therefore he is a sympathetic character. This is no different in God of War II when you think about the relationship between Kratos and Zeus. The son taking the place of the father is a natural progression and is often met with conflict. Kratos is just being who he is, and who he is involves a fully developed life outside of his bad ass, sword swinging, blood lusting ways, and that keeps us sympathetic to his plight.

Barlog: In God of War II, Kratos is a man on a mission. And no one, either good or evil, is going to keep him from reaching that goal. Isn't "God of War" an oxymoron? Who better to play the title role than Kratos. During our story development there were no good guys here. Everyone was trying exploit and deceive Kratos. There's a timeless concept. Can people relate to that on a subconscious level? You betcha.

Most videogames draw a clear distinction between good and evil, which is easier to write. God of War II, by contrast, is much more ambiguous. Our protagonist is morally compromised. The heroes of Greek mythology are our antagonists and obstacles. Zeus is our enemy. The narrator of both games, whom we learn is the titan Gaia, may be manipulating us for her own ends. And you have to communicate all of this in a dramatic fashion in a medium whose priority is not storytelling. How did you overcome this challenge to impart God of War II's various ambiguities?

Krawczyk: A television executive producer once told me that good writing is not in the black and white, but rather in the gray. Life is not black or white. Generally, it's an infinite palette of gray. Combine this with something else I've learned, that everybody in a scene wants something, even if it's just a glass of water, and we get our morally gray worlds.

Gaia wants to regain control from the Olympians, and Zeus wants to maintain control of what he has. Kratos has his eye on taking down Zeus. Even in the scenes where we learn about the Great War, it's skewed so that everyone has their point of view they want to convey. It's not all that different from what we experience every day, and ultimately, it makes for a more truthful experience as you play.

Barlog: Many writers of screen and page will tell you it's a great villain that makes for a great story. Videogames should be no different. While we all relate to the heroes, present us with a mealy-mouthed villain and we come away unsatisfied. A great villain makes for a greater hero, even if that hero is flawed. And I'm not sure any hero could be more flawed than Kratos.

There are a number of movie reviewers who have used variations of the phrase "like a videogame" to disparage movies like "300." Here's what Daily Variety writer Ben Fritz quoted several prominent film critics as saying:

"Once the newness of '300's' look wears off, which it inevitably does, what we are left with is a videogame come to life," wrote Kenneth Turan in the Los Angeles Times. " '300' will ... be talked about as a technical achievement, the next blip on the increasingly blurry line between movies and video games," added Slate's Dana Stevens. "[T]he excitement amounts to little more than a video game on the big screen," wrote USA Today's Claudia Puig. And in the New York Times, A.O. Scott said he would rather play "the video game that '300' aspires to become."

Having come to videogames from other art forms, do you believe these statements are being made with an understanding of interactive media, or from a place of ignorance? What do videogames need to do to become taken more seriously as an art form?

Krawczyk: For the record. I liked "300." And really, when was the last time we saw a big action movie deliver an epic story as good as either God of War or God of War II? There is no argument that video game stories, in general, need to be better, and writers need to be respected within the industry as something that will not only provide a better game, but also push the medium forward. But it comes to this; every medium prior to a new medium looks down at the up and comer. Film has a kind of snobbery toward television, even though television is currently a better and more consistent storytelling art form. Film and TV look down on games because games are the new kid on the block in terms of story. If there is ignorance, it is about the potential that video games promise. Immersive environments and interactive design, once fully realized, promise an experience that film and television will never touch.

Barlog: Let's go back to our earlier point, in film and books story is what counts. The reader/viewer passively experiences the story vicariously through the story’s characters. The pay off then becomes the readers/viewers emotional satisfaction derived from that story experience. The pay off in videogames, however, is gameplay. I'm not sure there is any emotional satisfaction in watching a video game being played--or at least not as much as actually playing. That, I also believe, lives in the minds of every videogamer. The thrill in this medium is saying, "Yeah, suck it down Mr. Minotaur!" to use the popular vernacular.

In videogames, we experience the story through our own actions. In film and novels, the audience makes no decisions. They are prisoners to the decisions of others. In videogames, you make life-and-death decisions for your character. You learn from mistakes and move on. Through tenacity and trial and error, you overcome and triumph. There is personal accomplishment in a videogame; that's simply not possible with a movie or a book.

That is what makes this an exciting, and at the same time, challenging medium in which to be able to create story. How well we craft that underlying story that takes you on that journey is but a small part of the overall process. In books and movies, it is the process. In video games it's the talent of countless artists, animators, programmers and producers and scores of other videogame people that deliver that ultimate experience.

I think the general perception of videogames is that it's a medium for mindless carnage totally lacking in both story and emotional depth. The easiest way to explain the critics' attitudes toward videogame movies and videogames is this: To merely watch the story, go see the movie. To live the story, play the video game.

What do your peers in the fiction or film/TV worlds say when you tell them that you're writing a videogame? How much did you play videogames before writing them, and do you find yourself playing games more often after this kind of exposure to the medium?

Krawczyk: It's all very mysterious and yet really hip too. People are very interested in how it's all coming together and what it means for writers of other media. Honestly, I didn't play a lot of videogames before getting involved writing for them, but I do play more now--sometimes to see what other games are doing, and sometimes just for fun.

Barlog: My videogame experience never really spanned further than Space Invaders. I hate video games that can beat me. Since I have terrible hand-eye-thumb coordination, the only way I could ever have hoped to beat God of War II was if they designed a "wimp mode," and I was told that was never going to happen.

I’ve not met many "serious" writers who aspire to write video game scripts. It's a medium directed toward gameplay and not story, and writers are all about story. When I told people I was writing God of War II, most offered me that perfunctory smile and said, "that"s nice," then moved on to a new subject.

So why does a so-called serious writer jump at this? Because any time you get the opportunity to work with your children, you snatch it up. Prior to God of War II, Cory and I had collaborated on a number of screenplays and novel ideas, so we were comfortable working together.

But this was my first time actually working for my son, and I found it completely exhilarating. God of War II was totally his vision, and I became his scribe to help him get that vision onto the page. During the process, I learned way more about Greek mythology than I ever want to know. Once we finished the story script, he took the pages and brought them to the screen. I am proud to be able to say I was part of this terrific game and that I worked for him.

How is working with Cory different from working with David Jaffe?

Krawczyk: Ah. The Cory vs. David question. First of all, they are both extremely talented and accomplished guys who have made amazing games. They also work completely differently. David had me figure out many different solutions and possibilities, and when something worked for him, he put it in place. With Cory, I spent more time in the room working through and discussing story, gameplay and dialog, and how they all relate. Different approaches, but both easy for me and ultimately successful.

Barlog: I had not worked directly with David Jaffe, since I was not involved with God of War. Indirectly, I would get direction from Cory as a result of David Jaffe's comments regarding the story’s early development. David always pushed us to develop the best game possible, so his input always came to a positive end, even if at times we didn’t agree with him.

Having studied the storyline of God of War, I saw a number of areas that we could improve on and some things that could be more fully developed. Did we achieve our goal? Only the gamers can tell us that. I wanted a more cohesive storyline that had a distinctive beginning, middle and end, like you find in more traditional storytelling. I believe we achieved that.

J.M., when you look back at Cory's childhood, what would you point to as the events or influences that resulted in him becoming an acclaimed videogame designer?

Barlog: Cory has always been an extremely creative person. At ten, he started doing his own stop-action animation in our basement. For a time, he drew his own color comics and dabbled in junior filmmaking. He showed a particularly strong ability to focus on a project and work the project through from beginning to end. We found his ability to concentrate on a task beyond what you usually expect to see in children. There was a time when he became so interested in becoming an animator that he developed his own process for creating cel art. I guess when you look at all these things together, you can see why he would ultimately end up in videogames.

Next: Our inaugural week of Team Assault wraps up when we chat with the man, the myth, the mouth--Sony Santa Monica creative director David Jaffe .