In the grim darkness of the far future, there are only franchises.
The (unlikely) next crossover phenomenon.
I stand in a city-centre car park, looking into the boot of my friend’s car. After a few weeks of cajoling (which included sending photos I furtively hid from friends and colleagues), he has convinced me to return to a former pastime. Before the customary distractions of youth, something else had held our attention. We both appraise the contents: a chunky, black, militaristic briefcase with a familiar eagle head insignia. He clicks the case open to reveal… a set of aggressively posed, darkly painted model soldiers with a style that is somehow medieval, retro and futuristic. After a 15-year sabbatical, I am considering returning to a world I left behind: the world of Games Workshop and Warhammer.
In the current age of pop-culture nerddom, there are few things that truly still carry the stigma of being too geeky. Superhero comics, video and board games, science-fiction and high fantasy have all made the crossover to the mainstream. However, there is once last bastion that stands apart, unassailable in its obscurity and inaccessibility to the general public. It is a world of constant warfare, inhabited by a baffling array of human and non-human characters, spanning a fictional history that stretches over 40 millennia. That bastion is Warhammer: the miniature collecting, assembling and painting hobby cum table-top strategy game by Games Workshop.
For the uninitiated, the name Games Workshop might conjure up a garishly signed shop at the quiet end of the high-street or tucked away in an obscure corner of a shopping centre. A glance inside reveals a group of kids, teenagers and bearded men concentrating vehemently on some models on a table covered in post-apocalyptic scenery. Now, this miniature universe may finally be emerging reluctantly from the shadows and entering the light of day.
One of the most baffling aspects of this hobby is its sheer scale. Warhammer actually consists of two distinct main games, divided into different historical eras. ‘Warhammer’ is set in a fantasy, medieval world whereas ‘Warhammer 40,000’ (also known as 40k) is set in a distant, sci-fi future. Both games are populated by different factions who are locked in battle with each other. In Warhammer 40k (my childhood preference and focus of this article), these include the humans and non-human ‘Xenos’. The humans are represented by the Imperium of Man and the Space Marines, who serve as many players’ first introduction to the game. Arrayed against humanity are various alien factions, such as the recognisably green Orks to more unusual examples like Necrons, Tyranids and Eldar. Humanity is also beset by the forces of Chaos, a corrupting influence lead by demons who embody mankind’s worst qualities. The narrative background is one of constant struggle in which humanity’s expansive but ailing galactic empire is at war with itself and several invading threats. As the game’s tagline states: ‘In the grim darkness of the far future, there is only war’.
All this amounts to a dizzying fictional universe for a young mind to be immersed in. In practical terms, ‘the hobby’ (as it is referred to by enthusiasts) consists of several elements. There is the purchasing, assembling, customising and painting of the models. The zenith of this side of the hobby can be observed in Games Workshop window dioramas and the Golden Demon painting competition. This requirement to invest substantial time, energy and money set it apart from similar table top games such as Pokémon, Magic: The Gathering or Dungeons and Dragons. The relatively high cost of entry ultimately produces a greater sense of ownership and connection.
Next, there is the table-top, strategy game itself. Rule books called ‘codexes’ set down the powers and limits of each faction and, within that, each category of fighter. Players take turn in movement and combat, using six-sided dice to divine whether their tactics have been successful or their Lilliputian champion has met a grisly end. Another major aspect of the hobby is the narrative history. This is catalogued in an ever-expanding set of novels (the Black Library) which flesh out the multifarious stories of the universe. There are also graphic novels, a magazine, several incarnations as video games and even Warhammer World in Nottingham. (Despite flying under the radar for many, Games Workshop is a business success story).
This is all tied together by a sprawling fictional universe. Any change to the immense narrative is hotly contested by the fandom: an endless debate that bears all the hallmarks of any similar internet-age ruction. Like many fantasy or science-fiction properties, Warhammer has been a precursor for the way we all consume media today. While the internet was still burgeoning, the Warhammer fandom was busy narrating, debating and expanding its ever-growing lore. It’s lack of singular authorial voice means that it is easier for fans to posit their own interpretations. Indeed, the ability to create one’s own Space Marine chapter invites the audience to become the author, long before anyone was writing Harry Potter fanfic. The fictional rational is that there is no single canon: different factions are recording their own versions of history complete with biases, differing interpretations and outright falsehoods.
Back in reality, Games Workshop occupies an unusual place in the British cultural landscape. Differing from notable exports such as the royal family, Sherlock Holmes and Adele, it is an altogether weirder side of UK culture that is rarely shared with outsiders, but tucked away in garden sheds and attic crawl spaces. Warhammer seems to share a common cultural makeup with other strangely British artefacts such as the Beano and Dandy, 2000AD and Viz, to Private Eye magazine. Their DNA is comprised of a distinctly un-American, unglamorous, little-Englander perspective on life. They are laden with a satire, raised-eyebrows, and head-shaking disbelief at the excesses and contradictions of the modern world. Their politics tends to be small ‘c’ conservative, mildly patriotic and critical of anyone claiming moral superiority or an all-encompassing ideology for life. Of course, historical memory of British exceptionalism and heroism - the crusades, global Empire and defeat of Nazi Germany - are symbolic cornerstones.
Much of this finds expression in the discursive realm of Warhammer 40k. There aren’t many other science-fiction properties in which spaceships resemble cathedrals, and the protagonists are festooned like medieval knights. One defining feature of the narrative universe is the concept of ‘Grimdark’: a distillation of the previously mentioned tagline. The game is thematically ‘dark’ to an absurd and even humorous degree. The forces of humanity may at first appear to be the ‘good guys’, but a cursory understanding of the lore challenges such a simple interpretation. The Imperium of Man is ruled by an emperor who requires a constant stream of human sacrifices. He presides over a galaxy-wide empire which colonises and destroys entire planets, and is raging an expansionist war against all alien species. Another major theme is religious fanaticism and the hunt for any heretics who have betrayed the Emperor and turned to the corrupting forces of Chaos. Humanity has lost the ability to make new innovations and is depicted as a cruel and crumbling force on the verge of collapse due to multiple and overwhelming external and internal threats. The other factions similarly eschew any optimistic or honourable backgrounds and motivations. These range from the inherently war-obsessed Orks, undead, avenging Necrons, bio-mass accumulating Tyranids, and the incarnation of horror that is Chaos.
The universe of Warhammer could have happily continued in its preposterous stream, unmolested by thoughts of the outside world. However, there is an even greater force out there that may stand as a threat against Warhammer and all for which it stands. It may not totally destroy it, but longstanding aficionados fear it shall doom it to a fate much worse. They fear it will be transformed from its Grimdark and unashamedly geeky origins into something shinier, cleaner, more accessible and ‘politically correct’. After 40,000 years of unending warfare, the greatest armies to have ever fought may have finally met their match: the unstoppable allure of becoming the next franchisable property.
The world is crying out for the next cultural phenomenon. With then end of stalwarts like Game of Thrones and the current cycle of Marvel movies, studios are looking for the next wave to define the upcoming decade or longer. There are many contenders already being feted: Phillip Pullman’s Dark Materials, Star War’s The Mandalorian, various Neil Gaiman adaptations and a return to Frank Herbert’s Dune. Properties that were seen as too arcane to be popular with the general public are now being tapped for commercial viability. What better contender could there be than Warhammer: a loyal fanbase, an already profitable business, and a lore in fiction and gaming that spans forty millennia. Although something like Warhammer gaining mainstream popularity might seem unlikely, studios are now much more likely to take a risk on introducing audiences to bewildering new premises and casts of characters (look no further than the success of high-minded and narratively-dense TV series like Westworld and Watchmen). Amazon’s new prequel to Lord of the Rings demonstrates that studios still believe there is appetite for a fantasy show that attempts to fill the void left by Game of Throne’s less than stellar departure (fittingly, Games Workshop created a Lord of the Rings table top game called Middle Earth).
There are signs that Warhammer is preparing for its chance at the main stage and has been adapting over the 15 years since I last played. So far, these changes have yet to cause major ripples, but do mark a change of approach. The Games Workshop stores have been rebranded as ‘Warhammer’ with signage that eschews the bright 80s red and yellow for brooding grey. A well-designed Citadel Colour app gives guidance and video tutorials for new hobbyists. The classic Warhammer fantasy game has been rebooted into the more tonally conservative Age of Sigmar. Warhammer 40k has a new game type called KillTeam. This iteration only requires armies numbering in the 10s rather than hundreds, allowing more causal and less invested gamers to start playing. A new faction has since been introduced: the T’au. This is an anime inspired, mech-based clan, which certainly appears more staid when compared to space elves or infernal demons. The T’au are also perhaps the only faction that recruits other ‘races’ to its ranks, making it a comparatively more enlightened galactic empire. These changes signal a move towards a more muted tone or even a ‘gritty reboot’ that reduces the bombast and eccentricity of previous iterations. All this is laying the groundwork for Warhammer’s most daring strategy yet: to break out of the underground and storm the mainstream.
The first salvos of this campaign are already being heard. Alongside two animated adaptations, there is an upcoming collaboration with Marvel to create a series of comics. This will likely introduce Warhammer to an already primed audience of superhero and comic fans. The real test will be whether general audiences can stomach this new contender. That next sally takes the form of a live action TV adaptation of a series of Warhammer 40k novels. The titular character, Eisenhorn, is an inquisitor in the Empire of Man, searching the galaxy for Xenos infiltrators and heretics. One of the creative minds behind the show is Frank Spotnitz, who created Amazon’s adaptation of Man in the High Castle. That show is speculative fiction based on the work of Philip K. Dick. The story takes place in an alternative timeline in which Nazi Germany and the Japanese Empire were the victors of World War II and both occupy the former USA. Managing to make this a palatable and engaging story is a good training ground for the even greater imaginative leap into the 41st millennium.
This attempt to breach the mainstream is raising hopes and fears among the longstanding Games Workshop fandom. A seat at the table among the big hitters of science-fiction and fantasy beckons. However, that comes with major compromise: making the property appealing to a mainstream audience, all the more daunting given the sheer scale and complexity of the lore. While all but the most hardcore of fans would accept the need for some change, there is concern that some of the most important aspects of the fictional universe should be beyond reproach. These concerns can often fall along the familiar fault-lines of the ongoing ‘culture war’ between the extremes of the neo-trad, alt-right and woke social-justice warriors (as a simplistic characterisation). For instance, the cast of characters is dominated by white men, with some heavily gendered exceptions. The issue of female Space Marines fighting beneath those anonymous helmets, or even how far concepts of gender can apply for genetically modified super-soldiers, is a subject of live debate.
Sex and gender is just the start. The main premise of the universe is that humanity’s existential mission is to defend itself from invasions of non-human ‘races’ and set out on galaxy-wide crusades to attain lands to settle and resources to acquire. Much of the aesthetic borrows from European imperial powers, including the Spanish Inquisition, Napoleonic headwear, and 20th century German army uniforms. The Orks, identified by their different coloured skin and infantile version of English, are a caricature of biological essentialism. Parallels with the glorification of nationalist warfare combined with a Western coloniser mentality are not hard to draw.
Other examples abound… but apologists of the game have a simple riposte: Why make the lore reflect 21st century values? The story is understood as parody and exaggeration: a terrible future hellscape of endless war ad absurdum. The bewildering scale and contradictions bely taking it too seriously. Even many character designs verge on humour and high camp, especially in the more bombastic factions. Worryingly, the leap to the mainstream could exacerbate the game’s worst tendencies. By entering the spotlight, some of the nuance may be lost in translation. Instead of the implied British cynicism and absurdity, there is a danger that the quasi-fascist, alien-hunting, po-faced Imperium of Man is taken at face value as the ‘good guys’. Calls for crusades against heretical ‘alien’ races is one that already appeals to far-right adherents and does the world no favours by being spread to a larger, (and likely younger and more naive) audience.
Unsurprisingly, much of this debate is taking place online with the intransigency and level of decorum we have come to expect. The online world that surrounds the franchise almost rivals the fictional universe itself for scale, complexity and the bitterness held towards perceived heretics. To truly immerse oneself in the grim-darkness of the online conflict, forums provide an unending decent into the furores over the franchise’s direction. One such source is 1d4chan, a site who’s namesake should serve as a warning for the trollish humour and extreme views that lie within. On the other hand, the Sigmarxism subreddit provides a left-wing and identity-politics infused interpretation of the game, complete with memes of Warhammer characters extolling trans rights.
It also raises interesting questions about the ownership of such a sprawling world of fiction, especially one that never had a single, canonical author. Fans can consume endless hours of official media. If this is not enough, the whole miasma can be reflected back and contested via forums, podcasts and fanfiction. For hours of detailed lore, turn to the Luetin09’s series of YouTube guides. The #Warhammer40k hashtag on Instagram has 1.7 million hits, revealing models and memes from around the world. Spectators can watch table-top battles unfold with the commentary of a semi-professional sport on 40Kin30m! Great excitement has been generated by the fan-made short film Astrates, and many hope it will be absorbed into future adaptations. The extent to which this dedication and creativity serves as a help or hindrance to the upcoming official incarnations remains to be seen.
Warhammer finds itself at a pivotal crossroads. Navigating political and cultural sensitivities while maintaining the interest of veterans and newcomers alike are the chief challenges to overcome. On the one hand is an unheralded position as one of the UK’s best kept secrets, bringing joy to a select cadre of devotees. On the other hand, the franchise can attempt to breach the mainstream, even if that means streamlining and tidying up for a modern, general audience, while risking the ire and dismay of longstanding fans. If Warhammer does succeed in becoming the next cultural phenomenon, it certainly has enough firepower to become a truly gargantuan extended universe, easily rivalling Marvel or Game of Thrones in scope. But can Warhammer survive the leap out of the 41st century and into the 21st?
As for my own return to the hobby, it remains stasis, much like the lone Space Marine gifted from my friend: idling impassively in a clear blister-pack , waiting to be assembled, painted and thrown into the endless warfare of the 41st millennium. I find myself turning to the question — is Warhammer a good hobby to be involved in? To give the game some credit, the most troubling elements can be taken with a pinch of salt as how humanity is doomed to failure and to fall into senseless infighting. There is a levelling of all factions as self-interested and pursuing their own ends, all evil in their own special way. The question of whether any of the stories and characters are edifying or admirable should be beside the point. What faction is championed really comes down to what’s fun to paint and play. At its best, Warhammer 40k is a hyperbolised pastiche of 20th century total wars, reimagined as romping sci-fi escapism. For now, I remain undecided: but 40,000 years is long enough for anything to happen.
COVID19 Update: I caved and spent £47.71 on a Vanguard Space Marine kit. Now to find a YouTube painting tutorial…
