The Game Critique

First off, no this is not a retraction of my opinion (which I was apparently the sole defender of) that Ludonarrative Dissonance is a bad thing for a game to have. Instead this is a response to the growing antagonism towards the term itself. There is plenty of it about, most recently from a post of Corvus Elrod’s over at Semionaut’s Notebook. I wanted to write this right away after reading it, but other commitments kept me from doing so at the time. Although having just reread it I find that it doesn’t say a whole lot about the term itself, just that it’s use is unnecessary and rather ineffectual.

For those who don’t know (though if you are reading this I give 4 to 1 odds you do) Ludonarrative Dissonance was a term coined by CLINT HOCKING, here, in reference to Bioshock and was later applied by others to Gears of War, Uncharted and others. It is where the game elements conflict the thematic elements the narrative tries to convey. It’s why the normally happy-go-lucky “normal” guy of Nathan Drake becomes a disturbing sociopath in the gameplay. It’s why the “rah-rah kill them” mentality of the Cogs is somewhat undermined by the fact they cower behind chest high walls at every opportunity despite wearing refrigerators. Not included are getting stuck on the world geometry or running in place against an invisible wall.

First I want to address the common criticism that the word is pretentious. In most cases people don’t know what the word pretentious means. A word can neither be pretentious or not by itself. Not just words, but anything. It is the intent behind something’s use that makes that something pretentious or not. And in most cases the word only comes off being pretentious because people undermine their use of the term by making it seem forced or unnecessary. They prefix it with self deprecating crap like “excuse me for using the term, but…” or “no other way to say it than…” or “pardon me for being pretentious, but…” That crap undermines not only the term but also your argument. People prefix it so that they don’t alienate their so-called “cool” audience. Hint: They’re not reading this.

In a recent Experience Points podcast, Jorge Albor and Scott Juster just tossed the term into the discussion like it were any other word, made their point and moved on. I got what they were saying and everything kept moving. If you feel there is a stigma with such a term, it’s because you have placed the stigma there. It is a useful term. Really it’s because to most people it sounds so outrageous that they can’t help but feel that is shouldn’t belong. That feeling is the feeling that games are some lower form of creative work, because something highbrow sounding doesn’t belong; the feeling they aren’t worthy of in depth discussion. Because that is what Ludonarrative Dissonance is, a term for the facilitating of in depth discussion of games.

Of course there is the fear that this is a slippery slope towards not being understood in trying to broaden critical ideas to an expanded audience. Fair enough, but that comes down to writing. Contrary to what I normally argue, people are smarter than you think. If you present a word or term and they don’t understand they can figure it out. Especially if you are making an argument where you have to explain the Ludonarrative Dissonance. Give your explanation of how the game is guilty of it, a person can figure out the terms meaning. Not to mention that the definition is in the word itself. The ludo- prefix may stump some people, but every English speaking person knows what narrative is. They can figure out the rest from the explanation. It really is not as exclusionary as people make it out to be.

Now to the more relevant point Corvus Elrod brought up in his post that it is a pointless term, using the example of how we criticize movies or TV.

“So we have a situation where the fight choreography does not uphold the fiction behind the show.
But we don’t refer to this as choreonarrative dissonance. Nor, for that matter, do we refer to the poorly written and delivered dialog as dialonarrative dissonance. Or the lackluster camera work as cinemanarrative dissonance.”

buy the sorcerer’s apprentice

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No, no we don’t. Why? Because we say all of that in other ways. Yes we call it bad film making, but at the same time that isn’t good enough. If I asked you about a movie and you said it was bad and I asked why, would I really accept bad film making as the reason? No, because that tells me just as much as saying it was bad. Of course it was bad film making if it was a bad movie. Pointless choreography, bad writing, awful delivery, shoddy cinematography. These are reasons that can be presented, argued, and defended. I cannot argue something is bad film making, because I have no idea what you are talking about. You have to go further and explain what specifically and then why. The same is true for games. An example back and forth:

“This is a bad game.”
“Okay then what was bad?”
“It has bad game design.”
“Okay then what was bad?”

See my problem. You have told me nothing and I end up repeating the question. Tell me something. Ludonarrative dissonance is a something. It is a conflict in the elements of the game. It has a definition that is at least a sentence long so it becomes short hand for a concept that frankly is quite common in games today. It is a perfectly valid term for telling what specifically is wrong with a game. Yes you will have to back up and defend your claim, but that is fundamental to every argument.

The only people who have a legitimate gripe about the term are the Classicists who can’t stand seeing Greek and Latin in the same word. But it’s a bit late for that; it has taken root in the critical lexicon. (Edit: This assertion was based on an argument I had with kateri_t on twitter, I apparently misremembered the issue of that argument.)

I haven’t done video game reviews on this site. I also don’t intend to. I have only done video game critiques or criticism. The name in the top banner should be enough of a clue. So it is interesting that the first review I do for a blog about video games is really about a book.

I finished Tom Bissell’s Extra Lives over a week ago, before E3 started. I wanted to finish those posts on inFamous before I got around to writing on the book. Now having settled down and let the pages stew in my mind for a time, I find there is not much to say.

The book is very well written. I finished it in two days and didn’t take any self-discipline on my part to get through it, which is saying something. In this tech saturated, attention deficit age, actually sitting down and doing one thing is both a miracle and reprieve. Bissell’s words flow like nectar down one’s throat, unsweetened and unpreserved. They are the raw and natural words of a man speaking from his, if not heart, than his truth, his center, his being. Extra Lives is a deeply personal book and as much about Tom Bissell as it is about video games. But then if you are going to explain why they matter, why they culturally matter, then you can’t stick to billion dollar figures and hundred million player headcounts forever. Those numbers get people’s attention and nothing else.

I’ve read quite a bit of the material previously. The first half of the Resident Evil chapter appeared in the inaugural edition of Kill Screen. Most of the GTA4 chapter had made the rounds around the internet a few months back. But I didn’t skip any parts of the book. It was a pleasure to read again and actually much easier. One thing I notice in the transition of his words from screen to page is the ease to read them. On my laptop I found the GTA4 story intolerable and I couldn’t get through it. In the book I devoured every word.

He goes through a number of contemporary games and explains their personal significance as well as gamer cultural significance. To someone as initiated as myself the explanations of the games were a little extraneous, but they were short and I realize their necessity. Actually, while reading them I was surprised how succinctly and eloquently Bissell was able to explain Gears of War as something more than the completely horrible and void of worth violence porn as it would seem to any outsider. He is able, in the same breath, to explain Resident Evil’s horridly painful camp and distressingly evocative horror. But probably his best assertion in the whole book is found in the author’s note at the beginning. “In this book I risk…to explain why I believe video game matter – and why they do not matter more.” He can’t get away with not addressing it, no one would believe him, and he navigates head on through the swamp. (“You were almost a Jill sandwich” anyone?)

What is especially wonderful is that the book constructs a compelling argument that video games are art (Ebert is wrong etc. etc.) without ever dealing with that particular question head one, like so many of us had. He circumvents the question entirely and starts his book from a position that they are and anyone reading it is on board with it, whether or not they actually are. From this position he is able to explain and discuss games with their creators, other critics and the reader the ideas, themes and emotions behind these games. He headed the argument off at the pass, as it were.

“It seems to me that anyone passionate about video games has better things to do than walk chin-first into a sucker-punch argument about whether they qualify as art. Those who do not believe video games are not or ever will be art deserve nothing more goading or indulgent than a smile. (p.34)”

I had meant to get down my own words on paper with no influence from any other sources, to see what my thoughts were as pure as they could be with only the book in my head. They were too jumbled, so I dumped the plan and listened to his interview on the Brainy Gamer podcast. (One of the best episodes yet.) Afterwords a question loomed out of my head: Who was this book for?

While reading it I was struck with the notion that while it was superbly written and was mind opening to the idea of video game criticism and of it being an artistic medium. At the same time he wasn’t going far enough for me. I’ve read most of his assertions and revelations on , and elsewhere and they were more extensively than what Tom did in his book. As much as I enjoyed it, I was not the target audience. It was a rehash of the 101 for me.

Then I saw him explaining the individual games calmly, detailed and concisely before moving on to the deeper explanations. But as quick and well done these descriptions were, I cannot see them a grand enough argument to convince or even hold the attention of anyone not already game literate. He seemed to deliver more on the why not than the why in the middle if you were coming into this tabula rasa. While reading it I realized I could not hand this book to either of my parents and expect them to get what I get or see what I see. He also diverges this audience away from him further when he recalls as his fondest memories of Grand Theft Auto IV to be I “sniped the pilot of a zooming-by news chopper while standing on the GetaLife (read: MetLife) building and watched it whirlingly plunge down into the street and explode. (p.179)” Who not inundated with at least an ounce of the “hardcore” culture is going to read that and not have the argument undermined for them? Hell even I cringed at the implications of these moments. They weren’t and cannot be explained in any decent manner to anyone who doesn’t already get that the chaos has no meaning beyond the visceral thrill of it, even within the game’s universe.

The only answer I can reach is that the book is for the game literate, but not the critical literate. There is not enough here for the “hardcore” critics and/or thinkers of video games and at the same time there may be too sparse on too many subjects to hold the minds of the uninitiated. The book focuses, and rightly so, on the middle ground. The gaming literate that might not have realized there was a critical community-like Tom didn’t realize a few years ago-and have an internal inkling or desire to go beyond enjoying the spectacle and the “just a game” aphorism. Those with the curious, however brief, question mark appearing over their heads.

If I had to call Bissell’s book anything, it would be a well polished stepping stone for the community as a whole. If nothing else he got it published and that is enough to keep hope alive for a brighter future for the gaming community and superb games on the horizon.

For those of you are utterly sick of this issue, bear with me. I am with you. I am tired of people questioning whether video games are art or not. Yes they are, now move on. But when someone like Roger Ebert brings it up and declares that opinion loudly to the rest of the world, a world ready and eager to accept that proclamation, then we have to stand up and say you are wrong. You are mixing your facts up. You are missing the point. You are looking in all the wrong places at all the wrong things.

The ludodechadron and those who bother to read the writings of that large and expansive circle all understand and accept that games are art and have moved on to exploring what that means or now that they are, how to convey specific meaning through them. But every once in a while we have to take a break and revisit the 101 for the benefit of educating, not our detractors, but those who might listen to them without another voice.

Ben Abraham called me out on it on twitter and said that it is a waste of time and that people are smarter than that. I would love to believe him, but people keep proving that notion wrong. See truthers, birthers, and tea partiers for more recent examples. When a wrong and malicious idea gains momentum it stops being an idea and becomes a belief. It’s nearly impossible to undo beliefs and all we can hope to do is mitigate the spreading of such incorrect notions that games are not art.

Commenting on the blog post in question is a pointless endeavor as it has reached 3305 comments at the time of writing. I gave up at around 30 of these essay length responses. I can’t imagine he’s reading them anymore; he is just amazed at the response by this point as he posts on twitter. He has become a troll. He posts things on twitter I can only hope they are there to gain a response, because I can’t believe such an intelligent man would really stoop below his ability. The highlights include, rhetorically asking if there is a classics professor anywhere who would say games are on the level of Homer. Yes and I shook hands with him. Another was asking if there was an art historian anywhere who would support games. There was an entire conference devoted to it.

10 years ago you would have still been wrong, but you might have made a case. Now every argument you can think of already has evidence to the contrary. You ask, “Why are gamers so intensely concerned, anyway, that games be defined as art?” My question to you is: why are you so intensely concerned that games shouldn’t be defined as art?

I don’t have really anything to say, because others have said pretty much everything I have to say. Some are closer to my position than others, but all the responses have the following in common: Roger Ebert is wrong. I waited the whole week to get everything in. After this week the discussion should end, because he said his piece and we said ours, you can’t ask for any more than that.

Incidentally I didn’t bother sending any to TWIVGB, because there were too many and Ben has said to the effect we should just ignore him. If he likes he can just link this instead. (Though I waited way too long to post this.)

Ebert’s post sprang up as a response to a talk by Kelle Santiago, so it seems right that we start off with her response to him.

Brain Ashcraft at Kotaku writes an open letter to Ebert.

Daniel Bullard-Bates at Press Pause to Reflect says it right in the title: Why Roger Ebert is Wrong About Video Games.

Fraser Allison of RedKingDreams thanks Ebert for opening the door to so many people about the ideas of games and art and hope they believe him to be wrong.

Mike Schiller at Unlimited Lives decides to go the opposite route by exploring what Ebert got right.

A. Serwer at The American Prospect responds with this short little piece.

Navi Fairy at GayGamer writes he finally understand Ebert. I’m glad someone does.

Ferguson at Interactive Illuminatus calls the idea Games can’t be art a case of mistaken identity.

Scott McCloud of Understanding Comics fame weighs in.

Both Gabe and Tych write their thoughts on it. As well as a comic about it.

Only the first third of this post by Steve Gaynor at the Fullbirght blog is about Ebert, but it pretty much sums up everyone’s exhaustion with the issue.

Even Mike Thomson from IGN has a well thought out, well written piece on the issue, closely mirroring my own opinion.

A little more irreverent on the issue is SnakeLinkSonic at Misanthropic Gamer.

And finally two more visual arguments on the matter. At Game Couch it is a matter of three lighthouses. While Kirk Hamilton creates a flowchart at Gamer Melodico.

[Additional] And now for the folks who I either missed or didn’t get the memo.

Gus Mastrapa at Joystick Division declares the whole argument Pretension +1.

Ben “Yahtzee” Chroshaw turns his attention in his weekly written column towards the issue.

Daniel Golding gets published at ABC Australia saying: Are video games art? It’s hardly worth debating.

At the Italian game blog Ars Ludica, Simone Tagliaferri writes this response.

Sean Sands over at Gamers with Jobs abdicates the entire discussion call any response to the ‘are games art’ discussion pointless and instead asks not for the Citizen Kane of video games, but the Chess of video games.

The crew at GameCritics.com spend the first 15-20 minutes of their latest podcast giving their opinions on the subject.

[Additional +2] Two weeks out and they’re still coming.

Moviebob, aka The GameOverthinker, brings his latest episode to bear on the subject. I was with him until around the 17 minute mark, but it was a minor disagreement. That was also a warning that it is long.

[Additional +3] More stuff that came out and stuff I just got around to reading.

This is the longest one yet people. Tim, love him or hate him I’m not going to judge, Rogers talks about the subject in his latest column entitled ‘I <3 Stupid Games.’ Or at least I think he does. Warning: it may take you 10 – 20 minutes to get through.

LittleBoBeep ignores Ebert in his thoughtful dissertation and just gets down to the issue at hand. But with the Kelle Santiago reference it’s easy to see what inspired the post series. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.

[Additional +4] GOOD. FREAKING. LORD. Thanks to the trackback below I have just found a link network to a whole batch of new posts. Some are from April. No one said the internet was small. On the plus side I have a bunch of new blogs to follow.

From the site that trackbacked my post I found Jason O. of ButtonMashing to be one of those apathetic to the argument, because it wont matter in 10 years.

Nick Sutter, formerly of EGM/1-up post this response the day after Ebert’s post.

Scott Dixon of GameJudgement mainly tries to do a basic link post of responses with Ebert quotes taking the top half, but he voices his opinion, of the you’re missing the point of the medium variety, so I add it in with the others. ( Note: all of his links are somewhere above save the Destructoid one, because it was more about Heavy Rain than anything Ebert had to say.)

It was a pleasure to read Josh’s post at Cathode Tan, because it took a different approach. It gave a evolutionary history of where modern video game came from. And then proceeded to show that yes games are already in museums, so there goes that straw man bullet point.

In an interview with Charge Shot, Jason Rohrer weighs in on the games as art debate and agrees with Ebert on several points. Saying we’re not quite there yet.

Another oldie I missed the first three times around is by Sinnan Kubba writing for Games Abyss who is a little more…blatant than many of the other responders.

[Additional +5] I’m not even reading these anymore before I post them. Screw it I have better things to do.

Post #1 Ben sent me.

Post #2 Ben sent me.

[Additional +6] I’m just lucky 4th edition DnD introduces the +6 to weapons or this wouldn’t make sense at all.

Random comic with Ebert and art mentioned from the Escapist.

Kevin Ohannessian asked a bunch of industry people at E3 about Ebert and what game they would suggest he play.

[Additional Final] As of 2:08 PM of July 1st in the year of our lord Two Thousand and Ten victory was declared across the interweb and I can finally not give a shit about updating this post anymore.

Famed critic Roger Ebert has written a post about how Ebert was wrong.

[Additional: I'm proven to be a liar] This will be updated as need be, no further additionals, just this one. Furthermore, should Ebert or anyone else take up the similar flag against video games as art, they will not be added. This is only for the Ebert post noted above.

Brian Rubinow parodies the original Ebert argument post, quite eloquently, though I wish it was much more timely.

Ashelia over at Hellmode finally writes her piece on Ebert and his so called apology and the apologies in the gaming community.

On Kotaku, commenter Kiori Hayabusa writes a decent length defense of why Roger Ebert has the right to not give a shit if games are art.

Thomas at Flying Mongoose Labs ( I wish I could make a name like that up.) writes a piece questioning the whole point of the argument itself on the last day of the year.

Rus McLaughlin over at BitMob thanks Roger Ebert for the kick in the pants we needed that we got last year. (9 goddamn months, you had 9 goddamn months)

Invoking his name not once, not twice, but seven times Patrick Holleman asks the question “Can Videogames be Art?”

Brain Moriarty gave a talk at GDC 20011 entitled “An Apology for Roger Ebert” asserting that Ebert was in fact right and that it may not be a bad thing. I wanted to write a rant against this, but the talk sucked all the fight out of me and just depresses me.

So thankfully Zach Gage commenting at GameSetWatch pulled apart nearly every argument in it point by point and revealed quite a few lies within the logic.

Blake William wrote an open letter to Mr. Ebert on his personal blog. And I fulfill my assertion of a critic’s obligation at the top of this post by writing a response that wouldn’t fit in his comment section.

[Additional: Final and I mean it this time] Ebert’s post that in turn inspired this one is almost a year old now and I don’t think there is anything left to say. This started with a declaration that games cannot be art and then was countered, but they already are. There have been a few defenses of Ebert but all have centered around faulty assumptions or his right not to care. I agree with the latter. But I am going to give the last link to Evan Jones and his blog on Gamasutra asking everyone to “Stop Debating Games as Art.”

The people who claim that games are not art have not played games that have spoken to them as art. Their opinions stem from a lack of experience with games. It is not our job to refute them!

It is retarding to the critical development of our medium to spend our time defending its legitimacy. The worth of an experience cannot be judged by one who has not undergone it. To claim that games are not art is to judge countless experiences not experienced. To defend games as art is to say that such claims are worthwhile.

As a game creator, yes it is not his job to waste time convincing others games are art or which games achieve to be high art. It’s the critic’s job to waste his time. I am a critic and I have amply wasted my time doing so. This is a personal debate that every person must go through. Sometimes the ground work is so well laid out with plenty of markers and presented early enough you have an easy time coming to this understanding. Paintings, sculpture, literature, movies, plays all have the luxury. Games are art, they just do not have the the well worn path. It is a half hidden path covered with brambles, quicksand, false forks and switchbacks. In this manner it is a critic’s job to clear out the brush, put well marked signs easily read, pave over the quicksand and straighten the path. Over the last year we have done that by focusing intently on the issue and will continue to do so as Evan Jones says:

Tell about the time a game made you think, or the time one made you feel a sense of true accomplishment, or the time you felt true pride in your lower-case-a-achievements. Speak about the ones that made you angry and the ones that inspired you. Lament the bad games and sing the praises of the good.

There will be others who try to stir up this debate, but we need spill no more ink on them. We have written our responses as wide and varied as possible. We must now only link and leave silently. We leave it up for them to read it or not. I have cataloged every argument I could find. Send them here if you know not where else. I may edit this post further down the line to clean up some writing or elaborate the descriptions of the above links. But as far as I’m concerned, this matter is closed. I think games are art -> games are art -> excuse me while I go play some art.

Recently on twitter I was pointed to an essay on Final Fantasy VIII that differs from the more generally accepted reading of the game’s story. If you have not read it yet, before you proceed with this post, please do.

First let me speak on the essay itself. I think it’s a beautifully argued and supports its position admirably. The Squall’s dead theory hadn’t ever occurred to me. Never once did it enter my mind that discs 2-4 were a death dream. I think it’s somewhat the problem of video games where we are used to these crazy and fantastical elements that we are never able to question their validity, whether we are supposed to or not. They are par for the course and we just accept them. On thinking about it I prefer this reading of Final Fantasy VIII, than what you see is what you get.

Having said that there is a mistake that goes into thinking how to read a creative work. Part of it stems from the idea of authorship and part of it comes from the idea that works have a single message or single point they want to drive home. This is a mistake, but it does not mean it’s wrong.

I bring up Mulholland Drive for two reasons. One because it embodies what I want to talk about probably better than any other work that springs to mind. And two, because I took two bloody classes on the movie and I’m damn well going to show off.

I called Final Fantasy VIII the Mulholland Drive of video games on twitter the other day, mainly to make the comparison of artistic craft and not using it to legitimize video games. I brought it up, because comparing two works with similar themes, content and/or goals is standard practice in criticism and I think this comparison is apt.

When you first watch Mulholland Drive it seems to make sense until around 2/3rds of the way in, and then it’s ending devolves into a strangeness that is almost incomprehensible. It takes several viewings to understand what you are looking at and what it means. The movie follows dream logic, or rather nightmare logic. Without going into a detailed essay on David Lynch’s masterpiece I will say that the prevailing reading on the movie is that the second half of the movie is the real world and like the FFVIII theory above, the first half is a death dream. Diane at the end of the movie shoots herself in a moment of madness, terror and remorse. In that moment of death she dreams the first half of the film. Applying elements from the real portion of the film into her dream trying to make sense of the world, where she is the successful actress, she is nice and she gets love.

If you read the essay like I suggested you should, then you will already see the parallels in the story. Going further into the details is not what I want to do right now and would require a rewatching of Mulholland Drive and a replay of FFVIII.

The thing is withy in this story reading there are other readings with the specific element of the movie. Like image theory and how certain images are there to evoke certain feelings in the audience, commentary on Hollywood readings, feminist readings and LGBT readings. The idea that it’s all a dream may contradict with certain assertions or maybe just certain pieces of evidence of the other readings does not disqualify them. In fact there is another theory that outright disregards the death dream theory and asserts that the two sections of Mulholland Drive are actually two realities where the consciousness of one woman transfers to the other through the blue box. Parallel worlds where the blue box is a gateway (aka a hypercube) from a Shakespearean comedy inspired world to the Shakespearean tragedy inspired world. It sounds strange, but when you hear the full argument it makes perfect sense. It uses classical literary notions to signify the differences between the two worlds and complex entities unto themselves and in a way comments on art by showing the similarities between comedy and tragedy by degrees. Out of the two main theories it’s the one I prefer.

Now to address the other elephant in the room: Auteur theory. Those that follow me know I am a big supporter of this theory, in movies and in video games. I would, however, like to qualify Auteur theory. The director of a movie and lead designer (or whatever the game’s equivalent of a director is) is the author of their particular work. Another widely held notion of art, that contradicts the theory, is the concept that an author is no more an authority on their work than any other critic. Once a creator has finished creating and let their work out into the wild that they should shut the hell up. I’m exaggerating somewhat about it, though some creators do deserve that response because they have gone a bit far. Like Level 5 did when it released packages to reviewers explaining how they misplayed their game Lair after all the low scores came out. Or how George Lucas keeps retconning the original trilogy. The mistake when people talk about Auteur theory is that it is not about a creator imposing their reading or their meaning of their work on us, but a framework by which we can read a work’s meaning in relation to the creator’s body of work. Certain stylistic tendencies, recurring themes and motifs are all things creators inherently place into their work that we can read meaning from that otherwise we would not have, because of the framework. The other mistake is thinking that if they are an Auteur and then if we didn’t like something they made, then we just didn’t get it. I love Martin Scorsese, but I thought Cape Fear was dull and Casino too derivative. Hitchcock had some great films, but some duds as well. He also had some sub par films that when appreciated as a part of a body of work you can see the man behind the curtain and appreciate what he succeeds at even more. (See Sabotage and The 39 Steps.)

So what do I see when I see this other interpretation of Final Fantasy VIII? Well first an opportunity to write an essay on the idea of criticism, but also an opportunity to hopefully explain how criticism works since so many seem not to get that it’s not an either/or proposition. Audience input is paramount in every medium. It’s just more obvious and tangible with games.

When I first read Danc’s post over at Lost Garden, Three False Constraints, I called it the stupidest thing I read from the critical community. I decided rather than write an immediate response I would wait a few days to calm down and think it over non-emotionally. I’m glad I did, not because I came to any agreement with him, but because I read this piece by Charles J Pratt over at Game Design Advance. It got me thinking more about the meat of the form of the medium. So I spent some more time thinking and went back to reread his post. Here’s my response.

(Note: After writing this response initially I figured it would be a good idea to take another few days to cool down before editing it, especially after rereading a certain middle section. I am also thankful I took the time for Danc has added a notes section answering some of the comments that arose in opposition to his arguments. I address those responses at the bottom.)

The first constraint he defines as having AI talk like it’s a living human being to interact with. His solution is to instead let players talk to other players. There is no uncanny valley within speaking and that meaningful interaction can form between two people like there would be between a player and an AI.

Two things. First Danc takes several facts that when by themselves are true, but sort of fall apart when combined. Yes players can talk to other players in game over the Internet, for what is the point of talking in-game if they are next to you. Also, yes meaning can come about through person-to-person interaction. That’s not entirely true when it’s: meaningful interaction can come about through person-to-person interaction in game over the Internet. The people who populate the Internet are the people I want to interact with the least. They are anonymous. They are not subject to the consequences of their words or actions. Why? Because they do not regard you as a human being, because you also are anonymous. The people I do willingly interact with in game over the Internet are people I know outside of the game. People create clans and groups with people they know, but their meaningful interactions are not a result of the game. Their foreknowledge of these people is what allows them meaningful interaction, not the game.

Secondly, Danc misstates the goal of single player conversations. These conversations have nothing to do with creating Turin AI so you can have uncanny valley free interactions. It’s about being part of a fiction, a fiction that generally will not hold with other people in the real world, unless it’s a fiction about everyday life. In World of Warcraft people talk completely differently than the NPCs do, because it’s a separate culture from that of the in-game fiction. Additionally, the uncanny valley has nothing to do with what the characters say. It has to do with the work that goes into the game. Good actors and solid writing have already crossed the gap where we can believe in a deep, fictional world ala Dragon Age: Origins or Uncharted etc. The present challenge comes in animation and getting the characters to act realistically while in conversation ala Oblivion and Fallout 3. This sort of thing would help in multiplayer games that use avatars for player interaction. Uncharted has actually made huge leaps in this area. Plus, that’s only if you were attempting towards realism. If the game used a more stylized art direction then these wouldn’t be problems in the first place ala Zelda: Wind Waker and Okami.

The second constraint is that of having a game convey meaningful commentary or artistic representation of the human condition. His response is to get rid of the idea that it has to be strictly authored and allow players into a rule set, let them go and have them create meaningful interactions.

Two things. First is that we already have those games where such interactions he described – forming friendships, joking around and trading quips – happen. They’re called MMOs. The problem is the same as with the conversation constraint. Much of the meaning of their interaction is formed outside of the rule set of the actual game. Human interaction is not a game, if you ever watched to any romantic comedy, my personal citation here would be the end of Hitch, quote: “There are no rules to falling in love,” you would know this. The same is true for any human social interaction. A game by definition is a set of rules. So on even a most basic level, regardless of where it happens, such interactions outside of the rule set are not the game.

Secondly. No single player game can offer any meaning at all? Ever? You say this, but then you spout off two examples: Passage and Gravatron. Excuse me, if you can offer one example of a single player game that can provide meaning that means single player games can provide meaning. Guess what, I’ll offer you a few more: Silent Hill 2, Portal, Braid, Metal Gear Solid, Ico, Marriage, Gears of War. Each of those is about or evokes emotion and not the same emotion either. They evoke fear, confusion, remorse, betrayal, partnership, and machismo. Also, what is up with you saying a film can direct an emotional response from an audience using artistic measures, but a game should and must to do it though technical ones. Films have had plenty of technical achievements over the years, but they all mean nothing without a basic artistic understanding of the medium. Likewise technical direction is not the future of video games in providing meaning. We’re already at the point in graphics, when referring to them getting better, Clint Hocking calls the stage we’re in WGAS: who gives a shit. It’s going to come from artistic direction of designers understanding the medium they work in. Get your comparisons right. Also you say this about coding games: “We can’t simply show a visual trigger that smacks a hardwired emotion button on our monkey brain.” The same is true for movies, books, paintings etc. You can’t have an actor cry on screen and expect the audience to react. It’s the artistic merit of the crying that will evoke an audience reaction as is true for anything. The code is not the answer and is not the place where people are even looking.

The third constraint is a matter of reach and how many people are playing your game. Your solution is instead of trying to indoctrinate people into the current gaming culture, we move beyond the boundaries of consoles and high end PC as well as genre constraints of the established culture. That we should move into areas that can reach a wider audience, both technically and contextually.

I threw my hands up at this point, because I absolutely agree. Ken Levine once said, “most designers have seen one movie and read one book and generally its Aliens and Lord of the Rings.” Yes I would love for games to reach a mass audience and to spread beyond the present genres or even the present fundamental institutions of contemporary gaming. But then he offers his solution; so much for absolute agreement.

I’ll get the most minor complaint out of the way first. Most of the stuff on the platforms he suggests are shit. Facebook games I’m not entirely sure they are games beyond having rule set. They have no objective other than performing actions in attempt to allow you to perform the same actions more. Mafia Wars has an additional problem in that it’s about annoying people with stupid requests to play so you can grow in power and influence so you can request more people play. It also undermines the whole point of being social as you end up inviting people not because they’re a person, but a number. Fishville sounds likewise baffling to me as a game, because it enslaves you to not even a real living fish, but virtual ones that force you to live on their schedule with mundane activities. So I’m not really sure about the game part, because it’s a simulation program that seem to fail at the goal part of the game equation. Hell even World of Warcraft has goals and has been ‘beaten.’ The phone games are likewise bad, because they are cheep to make and cheep to sell so the market is diametrically opposed to the idea of quality control. I will admit I have next to no knowledge of the Asian phone gaming market and was thinking of the iPhone app store, exclusively. Please tell me if the Japanese, Chinese and Korean markets are any different.

You bring up an interrelated economic and cultural problem of the games industry and then offer a solution that undermines both goals. So I’m more confused by this suggestion than angry or afraid of it. You’re third bullet point, however, I completely agree with. The last three indie game spotlights and the next few as well all had games that were based in flash or other programs my computer already had. The real challenge is then how to market them. Will the blockbuster games go away? No, because again you are using faulty logic. In saying that games must evolve their content to the broader audience rather than bring the broader audience to the games, why are consoles left out of this shift. I don’t see why a console game can’t be apart of this shift, especially since they already are and not just with Nintendo. The other two companies may be slower, but they aren’t stupid. When the shift for broader game types comes about, they will be there if they want to survive. Trust me, companies want to thrive, not just survive.

Notes Section:

Re: Re: Can’t we continue to explore the meaning in single player games?

I agree that single player games are going to persist not just because they are wanted and there is a market for them, but because they are easier for designers to test out new systems and programs, something Danc seems personally in favor of. He speaks of economics, but it is actually easier and cheaper to create “short consumable experiences” because the system doesn’t require sustained resources from publishers, support from designers and players to constantly use it for it to remain meaningful or even useful. Any multiplayer experience you’ve had I can guarantee was first based on a single player experience. Also, Danc says, “If you like crafted content over games that focus on creative systems,” with snide like cynicism, but creative systems are something that would fall under content. To take it a step further, without content there can be no exploration of the systems that games rely on. The best and longest lasting multiplayer games rely on an influx or altering of content to remain fresh. Team Fortress 2′s nearly weekly updates, World of Warcraft’s expansions and level cap increases, Second Life’s or Little Big Planet’s user created content (something you were in favor of earlier, so I’m confused by this statement) are all longer lasting systems because of more content being pumped into those systems.

I take umbrage with his language towards single player games as if they are some blight on the landscape that he has to be resigned himself to allow existing. Phrases like “turning games into warped shadow of cinema” and “culturally meaningful games will trickle in at a depressingly slow pace.” He talks about people being afraid of losing their hobby and being opposed because they, as a minority, don’t like multiplayer games. I’m not afraid, I love co-op games and the occasional friendly challenge; I can’t stand competitive games, or the anonymity that the Internet affords in games, preferring to play my friends on the couch. I’ve written the last three and half pages not out of fear, but out of being insulted at Danc’s frank disregard on an entire section of the video game community because of his own perceived notion that that community is disregarding his beliefs. From that I offer these arguments partially as a counterbalance, but also to remark how fucking stupid many of them are. Yes, multiplayer games are the next era or new cultural wave of creativity, but to think one is intrinsically superior or that the old is inferior because it isn’t new is just as bad an argument as looking at games and thinking space marines killing alien Hitler is as culturally relevant or meaningful as games can become. It really is the same argument that games are pointless, little time wasters, just coming from the opposite end of the spectrum.

Re: Re: Emotion in multiplayer games

While the rating of things is entirely subjective, despite what the Internet may have you believe, so I can accept that. It is after all an opinion and not part of my counter argument. The extrovert/introvert argument is the one that came up early and is in part why I waited so long and rewrote this several times to make sure I wasn’t being overly biased, as I personally skew to the introverted side of things (it is impossible to eliminate bias to think otherwise is folly). As for wider and more intensely felt emotions, I believe I’ve addressed that above. Such emotion when dealing with people in a game is a reaction to the people not the game. The game is a conduit. Was the game meaningful in those respects? I think not, the interaction with people is what was meaningful. Both positive (crying jubilation, love) and negative (griefing) are both caused by players not the game, and while the distinction is a fine one, it is an important one when talking about games as cultural works.

And this is where I wished you stopped talking and moved to the next point, so it would only be mild disagreement on the position of your argument, but then you had to say something like this: “If there are two products on a shelf and one offer[s] a fun level of 3 and the other a fun level of 4, which one will you pick?”

First of all fun is not the factor in which we rate a game’s message, validity or purpose of existence. There are games out there that are not fun, but people play because they have some other factor that makes them desirable. Silent Hill 2, Fatal Frame 2, The Path and other like horror/cerebral games are not fun in the traditional sense, but compel us in the unconscious depths that psychological films, gothic novels and surrealistic paintings all tap into. A lot of the appeal of The Sims comes not from “fun” but from the value of either the player’s sadism or a new medium in which to create. Any serious creator will tell you the actual act and drudgery of creation and fine-tuning is not fun. It is satisfying, but in no way do the majority classify it as fun.

Secondly, rating one game as a 3 and another as a 4? It’s a stupid enough concept when reviewers do it because of contractual obligation, but to rate fun, one of the most if not the most subjective experience in the range of human emotion. The very fact you talk about the differences between extroverts and introverts 4 paragraphs previously should show you that not everyone values or gets the same worth of experience out of a game that you will.

Re: Re: But it is just a chat room

Not a lot to say here, because I agree with that statement, but I need to response to head off any misconceptions that might arise from my earlier arguments on the area of communication. The issue is not communication between players would just be a chat room; it’s the dichotomy that can and will arise when the “fiction” of a game and the connection players make in the game necessary for communication are not in sync. You bring up the idea of a ball sitting in a field versus playing soccer as well as with the idea of Internet poker you infer with ideas of communication intent and bluffing. These work because the fiction of playing these games against other people is consistent with the reality that the players are interacting as if they are playing soccer or poker. The problem is when the fiction and reality do not match up. World of Warcraft has a fiction of a fantasy realm and people going about their lives in this world, but players interact not as fantasy beings, but as people playing at their computers in a fictional matrix. (I wish I could use another example, but it’s so perfect for showing the differences in all these arguments.) It’s not that they’re just chat rooms, it’s when the games display ludonarrative dissonance in regards to communication that they trail behind single player games focused in those same areas.

Re: Re: But Facebook games are shallow!

That wasn’t exactly my argument against Facebook games, but since it’s the one offered I’ll run with it. First, Pong is not shallow. If you get another player it can be as deep and as challenging as tennis. (Slight hyperbole, but my point stands.) Secondly, I do not think that Facebook games will ever have the budget of AAA single player games or even AAA multiplayer endeavors, because those games are free and their economic model is not tuned to returning such a large investment as those on level of single player experiences. And all of that still doesn’t circumvent what these games do within the sphere of social networking sites, by subverting their initial purpose and use for the game’s own endeavors. They also lack a win state or at least a goal state besides being self-perpetual.

Conclusion.

I think of multiplayer or social based gaming not as a replacement or the inevitable point of no return. I do not think they are pointless of lesser like Danc seems to feel about single player games. I see them as Bardbarienne in the comments noted quite brilliantly that we are entering a new period in the art form. I broke this down to the largest measures in a previous post where I said, while gaming generations are easily identifiable as they correlate to the console generations and we’ll probably never get past the 2nd age of gaming, I was unsure when the 5th era of gaming would come or what it would look like, or at least not at the time. With current trends I believe multiplayer and social gaming is the next step, but not to the exclusion of others. Just because it’s the age of hip-hop doesn’t mean rock, jazz or even classical music have gone away. It’s just the evolution of the art form.

As a final note, I agree with Mark Ivey also from the comments.

“The first observation: It is interesting that “people in a room talking” is a mainstay of both movies and books, and yet the actual act of enjoying a movie or book is primarily a private one. Sure, we go to the movies with our friends, but while the actors spend most of the movie talking the audience is expected to be quiet. (Though, as with games, we love to talk with our friends about the experience afterwords).”

Sometimes the social aspect of a game is not from the game itself, but having a shared experience with other people. Not playing with each other or against each other, but playing something individually and then talking about it afterwords. Like going to the movie with friends or being a part of a book club. There are already examples on the Internet and within games. So while social gaming may be the next step, I don’t think anyone including Danc will know or can even guess what form it will take.

Designer Denouements How can the denouement be incorporated into gameplay? In literary forms, it is most often the events that take place after the plot’s climax that form your lasting opinion of the story. A well constructed denouement acts almost as a payoff, where protagonists and antagonists alike realize and adjust to the consequences of their actions. Serial media often ignored the denouement in favor of the cliffhanger, in order to entice viewers to return. Television has further diluted the denouement by turning it into a quick resolution that tidily fits into the time after the final commercial break.

But the denouement is most neglected in video games where it is often relegated to a short congratulatory cut scene, or at most–a slide show of consequences. This month’s topic challenges you to explore how the denouement can be expressed as gameplay.

(*Spoilers for God of War, Resident Evil 4, and Prince of Persia*)

The denouement, the oft forgotten portion of the story is the subject of this month’s topic. To even begin to understand how to use a denouement in a game one has to understand the climax and falling action. Most people miscategorize those two. Denouement is not just the quite moment after everything important had been resolved. It is the final moment. The moment after everything else has been resolved. It is the moment of reflection, the moment of the hero riding off into the sunset or the feeling that the world will continue on now that the story is over.

There is a problem in regarding the the denouement of a video game. Video games, those with stories anyway, tend to end at the climax. That is the moment that the whole game has been building to, where all the challenge and mechanics come to a head. It is the point in the game that the whole thing has been training you for. But then once the final boss is defeated we have a cutscene, roll credits. Were not only missing the denouement in such a structure, but the falling action, the cool down events. If they are there at all, they are portrayed in a quick cutscene meant to wrap up everything and leave nothing playable. I’m going to run through a few examples.

The original God of War is the only game I can think of that has anything resembling a denouement. Once you defeat Aries and save Athens, then what. You are treated to a cutscene about you’re crimes being forgiven, but not forgotten and you hurl yourself off a cliff. Then we are treated to one final section of gameplay of you climbing the stairs of Mt. Olympus to become the new God of War. That section of the game has no combat, no puzzles, save the hidden one, and nothing ties it to the rising action of the rest of the game. It is the game’s equivalent cool down period often found in Greek plays. It is not, however, the denouement. That section is still part of the game’s resolution and can be coupled with the falling action. The denouement would be the cutscene after you sit upon the throne.

Another example of gameplay after the final boss fight would be Resident Evil 4. The section after you fire the final rocket launcher and kill the whatever the hell it is you have to escape on a jet ski. That portion has a huge amount of action and tension associated with it, but it is simplistic compared to the complexity of choices made in the game’s combat. In this sequence the game is slowing down, but it is not a resolution. It is not a denouement, hell, it’s not even the falling action. What it is, is a prolonged climax. The falling action and denouement is then regaled to a quick cutscene with Leon and the president’s daughter riding off into the sunset.

Finally we have the new Prince of Persia. I’ve written enough about the content of the ending, but the actual structure of it does give a minor sense of a denouement. It’s just hard to pinpoint where exactly it is. If we accept the ending as is, retarded as it may be, the resealing of Ahriman is the climax, then carrying Eleka back to the alter is the falling action. The slow methodical walk  of realization for what happened is the resolution of everything that the game has been working towards. The denouement is then the action afterwords, unfortunately it’s also a second section of rising action that leads to a cliffhanger. Had the game ended with the Prince just leaving the canyon and have that be the end of the game it would have been a denouement that nicely closed the cover on the story.

These are just three examples, but they were the only examples of games I could think of that played beyond the final boss battle and climax of their respective stories. Most other games end their interactivity with the climax and let everything else run out with cinematics. We were asked to consider denouement is games and yet at this point in their lifespan I think it is difficult endeavor given that we don’t even bother with the falling action. Everything has to be taken in steps and first we have to cover that before we can really wrap it up.

[bort]

For those of you who maybe groaning at the title of this post let me assure you I am not going to declare anything the “Citizen Kane of video games” and am instead going to explain the pointlessness of the debate in the first place. And for those of you now disappointed, I implore you to please continue reading anyway.

The debate has been around for quite a while. The necessity of making this point came about thanks to the recent ABC webcast about the very subject. That’s right, ABC. It’s a short segment that can be seen here. Destructoid’s response here mirrored my own immediate reaction.

Out of every game that could have been chosen and explained…Metroid Prime, doesn’t even make my top 20, but regardless of that even the explanation for why it is the “Citizen Kane of video games” is completely absurd as is the whole idea of a “Citizen Kane of video games.” But first…

For those who do not know, the idea of the “Citizen Kane of video game” is the concept that there will be a game that when it comes it will mark the point when games will have reached maturity and legitimacy on the level of cinema. This mythical game is also supposed to be the culmination of all that gaming has been up to this point and bring about a revolution and be haled almost universally 40 years from now as the best game to date.

Having to write that out makes me realize really how utterly stupid the concept is. Sufficed to say Metroid Prime doesn’t meet those standards.

Also the argument that something has to prove itself as artistic is a very American idea. Film was always thought important, but nothing more than a curiosity at first. The Russians, French, German, Italians and others all thought movies were artistic. The Japanese presently think of video games as artistic. To them there is no debate.

Next, to paraphrase DemonicMurry from his twitter feed: Citizen Kane is a good movie, but highly overrated. I agree, it is a good movie, but not the greatest (Casablanca IMO). To quote him from elsewhere “Even Citizen Kane doesn’t exists as Citizen Kane.” The movie has been over hyped through out the years. Yes it is a tremendously great film and phenomenally important, but the repetition of those phrases a couple of dozen, hundred times and suddenly you aren’t looking at a film anymore, but the inflated vision of a film. I reckon few people clamoring for a Citizen Kane have ever watched the movie. After all the hype it does not live up to the leviathan of expectations. The mythos and aura that surrounds Citizen Kane has long since exceeded the actual movie and it has become this unattainable ideal. If you’ve ever heard someone that has watched recently for the first time ask ‘what is the big deal?’ That’s because it has morphed into far too big a deal. The idea that a video game can live up to that ideal is laughable, especially when Citizen Kane can’t live up it.

It is overrated in the effect it had towards the cinematic medium for another reason. Time for a little history lesson. When it came out it was refused advertising by William Randolph Hurst, who owned most of the newspapers in America at the time. Other papers followed suit. He was powerful enough that what he said went. The man launched a campaign to kill the movie; he practically held a vendetta against it, before it had even finished filming. It was refused showings from movie theaters around the country and no one could publicly support the movie for fear of suffering the same fate. Orson Wells was blackballed for directing because of it. Hurst even tried to force RKO pictures (never heard of them, now you know why) to destroy all celluloid copies and was thought to have succeeded. It was only found in a forgotten canister a decade later. Some filmmakers and critics at the time saw it, but the majority of the public didn’t. See Citizen Kane couldn’t change public perception of film because NO ONE SAW THE FUCKING THING. It wasn’t haled as a masterpiece until the French rediscovered it almost 10 years later. It certainly did not revolutionize the industry overnight like so many people seem to think.

Finally, using the argument that Metroid Prime resembles the thematic elements of Citizen Kane, while interesting and definitely an arguable point I wouldn’t mind reading an essay on, is like saying that one is culturally equal to the other which is absolutely stupid. Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein has the same general thematic message as Plan 9 from Outer Space, but I would hardly call the latter equal to the former. Don’t believe me, look it up. Plus, Citizen Kane is important and celebrated for its formal contributions to the medium, not for its conceptual ones, no matter how deep and profound they may be. The argument is about what a single video game can show us about the medium not a theme.

There are other things that point against the whole debate of the “Citizen Kane of video games.” Like the debate being completely pointless and unhelpful. The arguments produce only hot air and no actual theoretical or practical foundations. That one game can’t provide cultural legitimacy; it takes movements to change perception. That there are more important things to fix in our insular culture than finding a nicknamed video game, like the piss poor journalism, sequelitis, weak mainstream coverage (that this video happens to be apart of), horrendous portrayals of women and minorities, juvenile and rather insulting marketing ploys, etc. etc.

Critically it is important to look to those works that our medium is founded upon. It is important to look at those works that did blaze the trail and try new things with the elements that make video games a unique medium. I find that to be a much more valid discussion, because it actually creates discussion instead of a flame war. Instead of Citizen Kane we should be asking what were our Lumieres brothers, A Trip to the Moon, The Great Train Robbery, Battleship Potempkin, The Birth of a Nation, Intolerance, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and so on.

Of course, everyone first has to realize this is only a metaphor, which is the main problem with the original idea behind “Citizen Kane of video games.” That too was only a metaphor, but most people discussing it didn’t realize that and the mythos of Citizen Kane moved in and derailed the whole discussion. If we change the title without that understanding we’ll end up producing the same drivel. The ‘Citizen Kane of video games’ is a metaphor for the concept I detailed above, a rather pointless one that I just reasoned why.

I gave a lot of reasons why the “Citizen Kane of video games” is a fundamentally flawed idea, but here’s the most important one of all: One medium should not have to draw comparisons to others for any reason, because no two mediums are alike. Each has its own unique materials and formalistic basis that require the work based in that medium to fit those foundations and standards. It means one medium is not better or worse than another and certainly not equal, just different. In other words, books are not plays, are not movies, are not video games.

I listed a bunch of movies that each contributed something to the formal development of film as a medium. If you need to use a metaphor of film to video games for a comparison, use those I listed, because then there will be some thought put into it. When you think of what those movies did fundamentally to their medium, comparing them to a video game will force you to think of what it actually contributed to the formal aspects of the video game medium, rather than a best game ever debate. Honestly, when anyone tries to engage me in the Citizen Kane debate I counter with the Birth of a Nation question. They look at me quizzically, which forces me to explain what I mean and I actually end up in a fascinating discussion. One I’d like to have more often.

Isn’t That Spatial? Every video game has certain benefits and constraints in the way it represents space. Interaction fiction, arcade titles, 2D side-scrollers, isometric RPGs, and first person shooters all have advantages and disadvantages to how they deal with space-some technical in nature, some design-based. This month’s topic invites you to explore the ways games have represented the spatial nature of their storyworlds and what this does for the audience experience. Is it possible to ignore the constancy of spatial relationships in a graphical game? What would such a game look like? Are there ways of representing spatial relationships that we haven’t explored? Do you have ideas for games that could intentionally twist the player’s perception of space, or do you want to write about a game that already has?

So, Blogs of the Round Table is back from its summer hiatus and we’re dealing with special relationships in video games. But at the present time it seems that spatial relationships are the only type that designers can get right at the moment. (Subtle social commentary.) In fact in almost any game you play, your relationship with the world your avatar inhabits is the most important you will have with the game.

Games are about interaction and video games are about interaction with the digital environment. Avatars have to exist in a world, whether it is just the simple one directional side-scrollers of Mario and Sonic or to the vast open worlds of Grand Theft Auto’s cityscapes. The highest interaction in a spatial environment we have right now is that of the open world sandbox games, the games advertised as go anywhere, do anything.

We humans, when we enter this world, immediately begin to learn about spatial relationships. We look around and being assessing our environment. We learn distances in such a way that we cannot explain how our minds know it. A physicist can calculate where a ball will be given the force and direction, but any competent person can catch the ball if they see it thrown. We learn how to do such things in the real world. We learn after traversing the same streets, walking the same blocks over and over again, where everything is. When starting at one place we can make our way to another easily.

It is the same in video games. In the open world sandbox games we understand how to get from one point to another and where things are in relation to one another. Also we learn how to fight in action/adventure games. We know how far we can be away from an enemy to be able to hit them. I know it’s possible to understand even the minutest visual distances between the pixels if Ikaruga players are any indication.

What does this mean in the whole scheme of things? Nothing much beyond a simple reminder of a human’s abilities. Video games continually present situations that are fantastical and that we cannot be apart of in our normal everyday lives, but they, for the most part, exist in a world that we can understand. An invisible wall may occasionally defy logic, but I’m making a point. The need to ground the player is not in story subjectivity or gameplay mechanics, but space and distances. The empty spaces between objects could be more important that the objects themselves. That non-rendered air is potential, the potential of play. We know that, because that’s what we’ve learned.

[bort]

The following is a comment I posted over on the latest GameCritic’s podcast. It may seem a little rantish, but that’s why I’m going to expand on it at the end.

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You said during the podcast that Nintendo had revolutionized gaming. I have to respectfully disagree. They have only revolutionized it superficially. What they have done replaced button presses with Wii-mote waggles. The idea is to simplify gaming with simple controls that can make sense. And for Wii Bowling or Wii Tennis its perfect. But as soon as you take the control outside of that simple one type movement control you up the complexity of the game. There may only be one button, but if you translated each movement to a button press or analog stick movement you’d realize how equal the complexity is for anything other than the mini-game compilations. Given the nature of motion control at present and its impreciseness it makes the controller even more complex and frustrating.

It has been proven with testing that for an abstract action a button press that stays consistent within the game, i.e the same button for the same action, makes more sense than trying to emulate the action, mainly because it is easier to replicate input with a thumb press than it is to move the entire arm in the exact same manner.

I have no doubt that motion control can offer a different experience, but developers are still treating it as a standard controller and are having to make up for the loss of button with waggle. Then there are the games that do not need it, but add it in out of some necessity of being on the Wii. Twilight Princess comes to mind where you had to act out many of the actions, where the Gamecube controller used a few simple button presses to perform the same actions.

Yes the current gen controller are prohibitive, as were last gen. In fact there is a high learning curve for new gamers, but kids some how manage it. That’s another issue of cognitive age response and learning, but the NES has a D-pad and 2 buttons. Some games now can work with that. The idea is not to simplify the machine, but the in-game system. If you gave a newcomer a game on the 360 or PS3 that only utilized the d-pad and two buttons there would be no problem in getting into it.

———–

I should add some testimonial I hear about the new Wii Motion Plus. I cannot verify the validity of these comments, but it sounds truthful to me. That yes it does change gaming on the Wii, but does come with some problems. Namely, when the Wii first came out people were waving their whole arms, because that is how they thought and were told it would work, but then people adapted to only moving their wrists, for it was the basic movement not the degree that mattered. Now Wii Motion Plus changes all that because now you have to control it like you first thought it would work and will cause people to re-adapt.

It is a minor concern yes, but it is worth saying. It also attaches to my argument of the Wii-mote’s movements being a replacement for button presses. Now with full motion recognition it is supposed to have 1-1 replication. The thing is you can only replicate simple motions. If you design something too difficult people would not be able to replicate the action in their own house. The basic idea of escapism that most, not all, games are based upon would suffer with this idea. Sword, tennis racket, baseball bat swinging are all basic motions that we all understand in real life and replicate on the Wii. However if you want any finesse with those motions or to do more complex motions like rowing, driving, etc. you will be sorely disappointed. One problem is that it does take some practice or practical knowledge of those activities to do them correctly. Secondly, there is a certain amount of resistance required to do them properly. Without that resistance, with the new fine motion controls you are going to overshoot what you were doing, it is going to look ridiculous and immersive breaking on screen and more than likely you are going to fail. I can see scenarios where the motion breaks the experience instead of immersing you.

Example: Say you are rowing a boat the Wii-mote and Nun-chuck are the oars. But you speed up because you get into it and there being no real water resistance you suddenly see your character flapping the oars around like a chicken with its wings. A real person cannot row like that and yet you are seeing it. Immersion broken.

It wasn’t understood when it was first created, but the control is much more than an input device. It is a blank slate of iconography. Each button, each analog stick is a symbol for an action. It is different for every game, so the controller is a blank slate. The player learns and know that the icons (buttons) are, but they have no meaning on their own. There are basic principles that people understand about the buttons, because they generally hold true through all games and if not there is a reason for it. In North America anyway on the Playstation, X is ok, O is cancel, left analog stick for movement, right analog stick for camera. This works for First Person shooters as well. In Japan X and O are reversed, but they remain the same for all games in that region. The only exception I can think of is the Metal Gear Solid series that does that for specific purposes, but that is getting a bit of topic. The controller is a bunch of icons. The game than tells you what those icons and symbols mean. You then associate when you need to do something with that icon for the rest of the game. Humans are very iconographic. We associate people, concepts, countries and ourselves with icons and symbols of the greater whole.

The Wii-mote in the name of simplifying the control removes that iconographic interface. People get sucked in by meaning and association, its why we can read, because letters are nothing but icons to sounds. Movement however is not an icon. You cannot be shown a picture of it and understand what the motion means to the game world. You may know to move the Wii-mote left will aim left, but there is no mental association going on that allows your conscious mind to focus on the interactive area, but rather on the interactive motion of your avatar. It forces the mind to think about what you are doing step by step rather than as a whole experience. That is not how people function in the real world. We do not think about every step we take, we just walk. We do not take into account every letter in this sentence you are reading right now, we just read it and comprehend what it is saying.

Simplification is needed for new gamers in the current market, but the Wii and everyone copying them is the entirely wrong approach. Simplifying means cutting away complexity, not replacing it. Most of the Wii games, use the classic Wii controller, which has the same amount of buttons are a Gamecube controller. If you want it to be simple, create games that could be played with an NES controller. Everyone got that back in the day. There is only a D-pad and two buttons to worry about, but the association will stick and it the representation can be understood by the player as he immerses himself in the game.

A Game Is Worth a Thousand Words: What would one of your favorite pieces of non-interactive art look like if it had been created as a game first? May’s topic challenges you to imagine that the artist had been a game designer and supersede the source artwork-whether it be a painting, a sculpture, an installation, or any other piece that can be appreciated in a primarily visual way-to imagine a game that might have tried to communicate the same themes, the same message, to its audience.

Notice that the topic doesn’t specify video game. Feel free to imagine a board game, card game, RPG, or sport. Be as vague, or as detailed, about the design particulars as you like. It would probably make sense to include an image of the art piece you use as inspiration and link to a large resolution version of it if possible.

For this month’s entry I decided to go with Hokusai Katsushika’s woodprint block “The Great Wave off Kanagawa.”

Knowing little about inner layers to static visual art, the term used so as to encompass not only paintings, but also woodprint blocks, sculpture, photography, etc. I instead decided to look at its visual implications, more its form than its ideas. To see how a game could encompass the same visual aesthetic and even incorporate it into gameplay.

In the background we see Mt Fuji and in the foreground we have a wave with three fishing boats being tossed about. This wave is not a tsunami as commonly thought; it is just a normal wave, whose size is so immense because the perspective of the picture puts the onlooker right into the ocean.

The viewer being in the ocean I imagine a game placing an avatar in the middle of the waves to ride up and down as it comes form one side to the other. The avatar will be a more abstract shape or basic form instead of a realistic or traditional Japanese stylization of a person. It will be all black against the blue and white waves.

In the distance you see Mt Fuji as a small pyramid. Riding the waves from side to side you can eventually by creatively maneuvering your avatar into the distance get closer. The foreground scenery will remain static for the most part. Boats will ride into and out of the scene and waters will change their patterns, but in the background Mt. Fuji will get larger as you move further away. The avatar will stay the same size with the world moving around it.

By riding the waves in a certain manner you can move onto different 2D planes further and further bringing Mt Fuji closer. The game will end with the waves shrinking in size and Mt. Fuji looming over you as you have reached the shore.

[bort]