Nice and simple idea here (I'm sure someone else has already done it); for years gamers have deplored Hollywood plundering their beloved hobby for inspiration and picking all the wrong ideas, with IP after IP farmed out to disinterested studios the world over long before Uwe Boll got the idea of making wealthy German businessmen very happy.

Even those few reasons to be cheerful either provoke frequent arguments over why individual details had to be changed to market the film (Silent Hill, Prince of Persia et al) or they involve a property so niche most people never get to see it on the big screen, if at all (Ryu Ga Gotoku).

Now even those sacred cows thought untouchable are getting brought up (Shadow of the Colossus) leading some to wonder what travesty could possibly be next. Valve or Konami going back on their word and raking in the profits from a sloppy retelling of Half-Life or Metal Gear Solid?

I'm asking you - what would be next, if you had the choice? (Presuming you're interested.) Forget budget, forget the need to draw the crowds on opening weekend - pick a game whose story you think could be used to explore the very best possibilities cinema can offer, pick a director and say why. Colossus could be a great, great film adapted literally - would it appeal to everyone? Christ, no. But imagine Terrence Malick trying his hand at genre cinema, or Tarkovsky, and imagine it working. Imagine if the moneymen didn't insist everyone 'get it'.

Here are six of my ideas. Anyone have any others?

Cryostasis directed by Richard Stanley

A military investigator discovers the wreck of a nuclear icebreaker seemingly deserted, and in the course of his poking around the rusting hulk first uncovers a hideous supernatural presence on board, then gains the ability to relive the memories of the dead crew with the possibility of making good whatever decisions in the past led to this disaster. An obscurity here, something of a flawed gem, and in some respects the polar opposite of Stanley's work so far - the South African-born director is best known for desert or post-apocalyptic backdrops (cult favourite Dust Devil or his debut Hardware respectively), when tiny Russian developer Action Forms' first-person horror title Cryostasis is set in the late 1960s and rooted in the Arctic Circle from start to finish. But it's the sense of isolation that fits, and the almost spiritual awe and terror conjured up by the frozen landscape, wind howling outside, snow blanketing everything, things stalking the lone hero everywhere he goes. Stanley's not had an opportunity to break out his blend of gonzoid B-movie charm, haunting artistry, visceral splatter and memorable shocks for seventeen years (and both the upcoming Vacation and his long-dormant The Bones of the Earth seem to be lighter on the genre tropes); this would be prime material to get him back in the game.

Gitaroo Man directed by Koji Morimoto

Dimension Bomb, Morimoto's entry for Genius Party, the anthology film from the animation studio he helped create, is arguably the most rock'n'roll feature of any length to end up on cinema screens anywhere in the past few years. Largely wordless, soundtracked by Juno Reactor's pounding, soaring techno, it unfolds in a loose, almost formless sprawl that fairly rips across the screen. When Japanese developers Koei briefly tried their hand at music games, the result was the hugely entertaining Gitaroo Man, a gleefully demented, helter-skelter story about a loveable loser who discovers (through his talking dog) he's the last of an ancient intergalactic dynasty dedicated to wielding their mystical six-stringed heirlooms and holding off all manner of psychedelic oddities threatening the earth. The cult animator's 'superflat' aesthetic and the louche, anything-goes feel to his creations would be an ideal medium for Gitaroo Man's lunatic art design, and anyone lucky enough to have beaten the game will be well aware the gloriously over-the-top climactic backing track is - like Morimoto - as goddamned rock'n'roll as they come.

Mirror's Edge directed by Vincenzo Natali

The cult Detroit director has long been turning his hand to cold, minimalist world-building (pushing that last almost as far as it can go, if you take Nothing into account) and offbeat genre filmmaking. Snapped up by mega-publisher EA, Swedish developers DICE created a haunting, stylised futurist playground for their parkour-themed first-person obstacle course Mirror's Edge; it was a setting quite unlike anything else out there, but unfortunately they forgot to pair it with much of a story. The wafer-thin narrative - so utterly superfluous it makes Banlieue 13's plotting look like Shakespeare - is set in a sparkling dystopian future of clean blue-white skyscrapers and splashes of primary colour, where a lone courier tries to clear her sister's name and expose a throwaway conspiracy orchestrated by heartless megacorporations. Natali's been inching closer to bigger budgets and steadily turning out genre with a distinctive black wit - Cube, Cipher, Splice and the recently announced High Rise (hey, it has skyscrapers!) - so pair him with an action director who's up to the job, give him free rein to throw the original premise out of the window as long as he sticks to the established universe, and see what he comes up with.

Otogi 2 directed by Mahiro Maeda

The short-lived Otogi franchise (two games on Microsoft's original Xbox console) is Japanese developer From Software's spectacular reworking of the legends surrounding renowned Heian warrior Minamoto no Yorimitsu. Even today, though obviously dated it still looks visually resplendent, the kind of stately, mannered treatment myths and folktales rarely get from the medium. Mahiro Maeda's work on Gankutsuou, Gonzo's stunning reworking of Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo, suggests he'd do the legend proud. It was admittedly adapted fairly recently by Production IG but their take doesn't come close to the eye-watering, psychedelic splendour and visual trickery Maeda brought to the Count, and the audacious redrafting of the classics, operatic grandeur and quiet melancholy in Gankutsuou would suit the opulence and baroque aesthetic of From Software's designs down to the ground.

The Void (NSFW) directed by Philip Ridley

This one simply wouldn't work as a film in any conventional, popcorn sense - cult Russian developer Icepick Lodge have a reputation for densely layered, enigmatic narratives heavy on the literary influences and elegant, careful symbolism. In their second game The Void a nameless spirit wakes up in a hauntingly beautiful, terrifying purgatory of twisted surrealist landscapes like an elaborate fever-dream passion play. Uncertain who he is or what he's doing there, first he has to cultivate the weak, struggling plants that feed him with the colour he desperately needs to survive, then try and mediate between the inhabitants of the world and their nightmarish jailers. Few directors can do surreal quite like Ridley; his work is layered with meticulously realised, painterly imagery, deeper meaning left just out of reach (he prefers to let the movies speak for themselves). While Ridley's never dipped into pure genre material this year's comeback Heartless suggests he could comfortably handle The Void's Frankenstein creature designs if he put his mind to it, and he can do horror; Heartless features bursts of truly shocking violence and horror that goes beyond mere jump scares. Just a thought, obviously, but like the game, the idea of Ridley bringing this to the cinema sticks in the mind and won't go away.

Wet directed by Robert Rodriguez

In reality Rodriguez would probably take the suggestion as an insult, given Wet is basically one long breathless rush through every idea left on Tarantino's cutting room floor. The game sees a beautiful, smoky-voiced female bounty hunter caught up in an escalating cycle of gorily violent crosses and double-crosses, with the relentless acrobatic slow-motion killing that follows choreographed to thundering psychobilly, layered in faux-film grain and even dropping into Kill Bill/Sin City-style monochrome as a running visual gag. The garbled narrative (scripted by 24 writer Duppy Demetrius, apparently) is a little smarter than it first appears - heroine Rubi Malone (voiced by Eliza Dushku) is surprisingly subtly drawn, all things considered, light on the fanservice and with the wisecracking turned down a few notches. Similarly, Rodriguez makes no secret of being an overgrown kid, yet he's far from stupid, and when he's on form few can top him for exquisitely realised guilty pleasures; have him borrow the game's fantastic art and character design, get someone in to rework the story into something semi-coherent and this could make for a tremendously entertaining ninety minutes. (And maybe then we could all forget about Once Upon a Time in Mexico.)