Split-Screen :: The Game-Geek’s Daily Read

Story-telling, in it’s poetic form of plots and characters, has few masters. Buy a 1000 books, watch a million movies, follow any award-winning drama – the difference in impact and immersion becomes obvious, even as the medium fluctuates with each passing decade. It’s that same menangerie of story-telling that allows for so many stories to be told, again and again, at times with little to no variation to an audience playing the illusionary part of the “eager” in it’s consumption. I agree with legendary screen-writer Paul Schrader when he speaks on narrative exhaustion in today’s contemporary cinema. This same man penned scripts for Taxi Driver and Raging Bull (both Martin Scorcese-directed films). He knows his story-telling well enough to be called a master, if not the master of screen-writing. In an article for the Guardian, Schrader presented us with his categories of “counter-narrative” entertainment – mediums that employ completely different means of story-telling. Videogames found a mention since, “the ability of the viewer to participate in the storytelling process creates an illusion of non-contrivance”.

Certainly he gives games too much credit? After all, gaming has come a long way since the days of Planescape Torment, Dune, Monkey Island and System Shock 2. A long way down. The odd Bioshock, Beyond Good and Evil and Psychonauts comes along and disrupts the equilibrium, and yet we continue on as if nothing’s changed. Games today are clear what they’re about and gamers are clear what they want – you won’t find any one complaining about Killzone 2′s complete lack of an engaging plot or the sheer sparsity of immersion in Halo (which discredits the novels greatly). And why not? It sells. Monolith Productions had a tough time selling No One Lives Forever, it’s sharp clever writing and witty ingenuity. But the second it eschewed meaty plot for technical wizardry, anonymity in place of direction, and character for ambience with F.E.A.R., it’s never looked back, critically and commercially.

Another run-through and “illusion” becomes more prominent. That is, even if they’re not really telling a new story, games can at least fool people into thinking they are. There are very few games nowadays that provide even the illusion of free choice – but then, what’s the point? Fallout 3, Mass Effect and the Elder Scroll series present players with the tools through which they can shape their existence within the game. However, as the story for a movie can be hindered by lack of imagination on a writer’s part, the story of a game can be hindered by a lack of imagination from the gamer. We look at our experiences in life, consciously or unconsciously, and shape our play experience keeping those in mind. Out of lack of investment or because the tools aren’t unique enough (which the above games’ are), we end up staying too close to home for comfort. There are plenty of gamers who look at the smorgasbord of options available to them and rejoice, as there those who shrink and those who are indifferent. It varies greatly. It goes from “I’ve seen this before” to “I’m more familiar with this”. And it matters for everyone because it creates less demand from the gaming community as a whole to partake in fresh, new stories.

There was a time when games simply couldn’t be compared to movies. You’d hit an emotional high as things winded down. Suddenly, you realized Ganondorf had tricked you, imprisoned you in the Temple of Time and laid waste to the world as you remained asleep for years. Kill Raddick in Killzone 2. Kick Jack-Knife off the chopper in Mirror’s Edge. Shoot Zakhaev in Call of Duty 4. Alma rapes you in F.E.A.R. 2. “Wait, that’s it?” Yes, it is. “Well, it was still a good ride.” Was it?

Maybe I’m just growing old and still seeking the kind of emotional validation that paid in spades with a game’s story. Maybe I just need to stop whining and replay Grim Fandango. Or maybe I should just wait for Bioshock 2. Either way, Schrader had a point, whether he was giving gaming too much credit or not.