This question has bothered me for a long time. Since my first brush with real genre criticism (going to GA Tech before the take off of the LCC school my unfortunately minimal humanities requirements were nonetheless wonderfully met by classes like “Movie Genres” and “History of Science Fiction”), I’ve looked for subversive elements in games much like the elements in subversive genres like science fiction.
This isn’t exactly easy. If being subversive means making the reader (as in a person “reads” a “text” in any medium, to save me the pain of typing reader/viewer/listener/player) question their own assumptions, games seem to start with a handicap. In order to play a game, you must play by rules set down by someone else. If you are always inherently working within a given rule system, is it ever possible to subvert it?
read comments (10)So I’ve been blogging here just over one year - going to get a little meta on you for a brief moment, if you don’t mind. It’s funny to me somewhat (and probably not to you - sorry folks, not every post is winner), looking why I started the blog in the first place and the response to it.
I had started game-related blogs a couple times before but never really got into the groove with them. I was never 100% on what to include or not include. I realized this time, going into it, that I had finally reached the point where my voice as a developer was somewhat more coherent. I knew the things that were important to me, and they weren’t really things being discussed at large very much. I also wanted to improve on my consistency/voice through regular practice. I actually think managed that, with more or less regular posts (not counting the last two months, for over half of which I’ve been out of town for various reasons, mainly freaking weddings).
So that was why I started a blog, not necessarily why I started this blog. I had eventually realized the pursuit of games that offer insight into ourselves and the world around (via themes more serious than fat plumbers and speedy hedgehogs), that’s what gets me going. And it simply wasn’t being discussed enough to my liking.
On a secondary but not inconsequential note, I was also just kinda annoyed at the lack of decent reading material on game analysis/criticism. Sunday morning coffee was pretty boring after I got through GSW, GTxtA, and Level Up.
Another reason was actually to aim this type of discussion at several groups that particularly might value it: students and journalists. While the large majority of professional developers I meet or know have no particular desire to work on games with serious themes, I’ve always been impressed by the students I’ve met, that are much more passionate about this sort of thing. They’re not particularly inhibited about thinking along those lines - but if there’s no real discussion about it, my fear is just that some won’t feel encouraged to continue to explore down those avenues. Journalists, on the other hand, have it a bit rough. They often want to write about games as intelligently and critically as possible, but let’s face it, there’s absolutely no easy way to come to the level of knowledge one needs to do so.
Still though, I’ll admit I’ve been a bit surprised that, you know, people actually read the blog. Having folks post here & discuss (even marginally) and getting linked by game industry sites and other blogs, makes me think I achieved something in those directions. That’s kinda cool (and you’ll have to forgive this rare moment of self-congratulation).
It’s also pretty damn cool that the amount of my Sunday reading material has definitely increased (as the growing blogroll here attests), the overall discussion in the “blogosphere” as it were, definitely seems healthier today than it was a year ago.
Well, here’s to another year, blog!
(And here’s to RPS for telling me how to find Pathologic!)
So with Steve Gaynor’s wager, GDC, and the discussion after each, I’ve been thinking about the tools we have at our disposal as designers to create emotional response. Not just what tools are in the toolbox, so to speak, but the biases designers have for and against using some of those tools. Some biases seem natural, and others baffle me. It seems difficult to discuss what sort of techniques to use when, if we can’t even agree on what should be in the toolbox to begin with.
I started reviewing games for Play This Thing, the defacto arbiter of taste in indie game circles (or so I imagine). Except I think I’m the token mainstream guy, starting with this review of S.T.A.L.K.E.R. Well, in the same way Canada’s right wingers are still pretty left by some comparisons, I think.
Speaking of (the game, not Canadian politics), gotta love this quote on the AI of stalkers (from an AIGameDev interview, via Gamasutra):
“Every character in the game always has a goal: to uncover the mystery of the Zone.”
That’s some pretty damn existential AI right there.
Now speaking of Canadian politics… Michael Noer writes (old link I know) about the future of games, specifically predicting that WOW or similar MMOs will spawn guilds that become offline political forces. Well, they may organize politically, but the fatal flaw in the argument that they would be actual forces for change is the same reason the Canadian Marijuana Party isn’t exactly a political powerhouse. When the driving shared commonality between all the members of a political group is sitting around their houses, you’re not off to a stellar start, you know.
Apparently I’m a true neutral human sorcerer. But only 4th level? Fuck off. Always thought I’d be more chaotic good though. Via Psychochild.
And that’s it. For now.
How long can I go without sleeping, and without not being hung over? Apparently at least five days. A great GDC, if only for all the cool the people I met and hung out with - I’m a little bummed about the folks I wanted to hang out with more and didn’t get to, though. The one week of the year I turn into a fricking social butterfly, I am no doubt constrained by my limited experience at it, and of course my sloth-like txt-ing speed.
But meanwhile, the debate started by Steve Gaynor has raged on with lots of folks weighing in (and has since settled, though N’Gai Croal never got to his response on my point on realism that he promised at the end of this post - just as well since I’ll have a follow up on that point soon).
One counterpoint I see often in the various threads, is that games are already culturally relevant. By my definition, and obviously Gaynors, they are not.
The counter argument goes, well, people talk about and love the games that entertain them, therefore they must be culturally relevant.
We also, in the course of casual conversation, often talk about the weather.
That does not make the weather culturally relevant.
The weather, and the games mentioned in those arguments, do not talk about us.
Steve Gaynor over at Fullbright has thrown down a bit of a wager. And I’m taking.
The short version is that in fifty years, games will not have advanced as a medium past the place comic books are today - while there may be singular works that deliver meaningful experiences, the bulk of the work in the medium will restricted to a smaller audience because it is mostly juvenile in emotional depth.
To be fair, I’ve certainly had days where I’d agree with most everything he says. I get where it’s coming from. Whether it was a frustrating day at work, or sometimes just going to a particularly rough GDC, I am not immune to that brand of despair. But, overall, I gotta say, games still have much more to achieve as a medium - if I didn’t think so, I wouldn’t be working on them.
Now, I don’t know what would actually be worth wagering. Usually when making proclamations of the future of anything, I’ll just wag a finger in the air and randomly proclaim “I’ll bet you twenty bucks that…” to the general nearby citizenry in a completely rhetorical fashion. In 50 years from now, 20 american dollars probably won’t even buy you one square of toilet paper. $100, maybe? At least 5 squares maybe you can do something with, I don’t know.
Anyway, to my counterpoints…
So while sitting on several half-finished blog entries, I somehow can’t can’t bother myself to complete any of them. I keep trying to work this in, which just doesn’t fit, but I’ll try to fit it under the general category of “what’s inspiring me now”, so bear with me.
Last weekend I watched The Intruder. A Roger Corman film, it takes place in a small southern town just as it’s about to go through desegregation. It stars a very young Bill Shatner (it’s black and white, if that gives you any idea of how young - it was made in 1962). Shatner plays Adam Cramer, who comes into town to argue against government ordered desegregation, and encourage the townspeople to fight against it.
As Cramer goes about his business, thanks to his charisma (and Shatner does a great job of conveying why a such a despicable character has such sway with people), the white townspeople turn to violence and things quickly get out of Cramer’s control. While made for reasonably small $$$ (about $80k), the movie took an incredibly timely look at an issue tearing the country up.
Corman is often hailed as the king of indie film. He lists this film in particular as being one of his favorites, because it looked at issues that were deeply affecting society. As Corman notes in an interview on the DVD, even if not discussed as widely, these issues are still problems today (upon researching some of the links for the post, I even came across this bit about modern schools having again become as segregated as they were in the late 60’s).
To make the film as true to life (and to cut costs as well), they filmed in a small southern town and used a lot of the townsfolk as actors. The character of Joey Greene (played by Charles Barnes), one of the black students integrated into the white school, was from the area and had actually gone through integration a year before. Corman directed him not to act, but just to go back to his own experiences.
There’s one scene where Cramer gives a incredibly racist speech to the town. Corman actually had filmed crowd reactions first, over Shatner’s shoulder, while he gesticulated without talking - supposedly because his voice was hoarse. After the crowd left, they then filmed Shatner’s speech. Thoughout the making the film, Corman was afraid of actual violence breaking out, even go so far as to circulate a toned down script to the town to get approval for filming there.
In another even more potent scene, the white townspeople drive in a parade to the black church, some dressed in Klan robes. They bring a cross that they plant in front of the church, and Shatner lights it. The violent imagery is a part of how the film conveys the way most of the town gets swept up in the violence. There’s a certain uncommon honesty in the treatment of the otherwise non-violent white townsfolk reaching the point of attacking black families and even a white supporter of desegregation, leading to a final confrontation over Greene being accused of having raped a white girl.
The entire film, not just the scene with cross, is almost unpleasant to watch in its honesty - but completely gripping nonetheless. I don’t know, maybe I’m weird, that this is the sort of topic for a movie I find entertaining. And I often wonder what it will take for indie games to reach a point where creators are comfortable taking such risks (in case of the film’s cast & crew, even the risk of actual physical harm).
Meanwhile… Clive Thompson thinks indie games are exploding (via GSW). Chris Dahlen of Save the Robot comments further, saying he’d like to see indie games that become mainstream successes. But he asserts that gamers don’t want “edgy” content, and non-gamers are appalled by it (the latter may be true, but the former only arguably).
As Corman found out, discussing an issue like this doesn’t necessarily rake in the cash. While the film one several awards, it fell just short of making money, coming close to breaking even. In fact, he often said it was the only movie of his that didn’t make money, almost as a point of pride. (Interestingly, after being released on video 40 years later, it did finally break even and then some - how’s that for a long tail?)
Still though, does all that mean it’s not worth doing? You know, people are not going to set out to try understand any work of art that tries to tell you some that you may not like about yourself, or society. And therefore people may not pay for it. Doesn’t make it any less valuable. Doesn’t mean you can’t try to frame it a convincing manner, either - although breaking even isn’t such a horrible fate for something like this, but even that takes ingenuity in production.
As a corollary, I suppose we may see more of this when there’s a developer who is capable of Corman’s vastly repeatable financial successes (although perhaps not vast individually), having made over 400 films. Also, turns out I’m not the only one that thinks Corman is an interesting model for an indie game maker.
While I make fun of the otherwise unenlightened folks that may inadvertantly join you for a game on XBox Live, I feel I should in full disclosure write about one of the best online matches that I’ve had to date, playing Halo 3 last year…
So I will speak of it nonetheless. A version of SimCity developed for the One Laptop per Child project has been released under the GPL, now called Micropolis. I may have just garnered a side project…
It’s always fun when a bunch of disparate events, conversations (online and off), and random neuron firings coalesce around a particular topic. Of course, that process is always helped by guzzling a bunch of coffee then forcing yourself to sit still by strapping yourself into a plane for 6 hours. The only down side comes from where you decide to sit still, since now I’m recuperating from a nasty cold caught on said plane.
So, one topic of interest of late is emergent player character arcs…