Homework 9: Videogames

I am not the most avid of gamers. I don't have a huge collection of games (one of these days, maybe), I don't play a lot of the big-name titles (more out of penny-pinching tendencies than anything else), and I prefer to stick with old favorite titles rather than frequently trying out new ones. However, that's not to say I don't enjoy videogames, because I absolutely do. I love losing myself in another world for a while, whether I'm experiencing a character's story through their eyes, or forging my own in an open-world game like Skyrim. In fact, in another class, I'm writing a paper on the function of videogames as a narrative medium. It's no surprise then that I firmly believe videogames can be art, if only for the sheer amount of effort and creativity it takes to harmoniously blend visuals, sound, design, story, and mechanics into a good game. While that doesn't necessarily mean that every game has to be art, or that every art game is good (I refuse to play any game that sacrifices actual gameplay and instead tries to be a "deep", artsy-fartsy piece) the emotional and mental experience that some games can create is too notable, in my opinion, for videogames to be utterly ignored as an art medium. If some guy can splash paint on a wall ad make up a sufficiently-pretentious explanation to justify it as art, then the labor and creative energy that go into some games should justify its status as art as well.

I don't feel that videogames absolutely must have good graphics in order to be a good game. It helps create immersion, yes, but the game should not rely solely on visuals to succeed. Undertale, for instance, eschews cutting-edge graphics in favor of an old-school RPG design and a focus on character development and interaction. As of this writing, in fact, it is carrying a ninety-eight percent positive rating on Steam, out of over thirteen thousand reviews, without any kind of hyperrealistic visuals at all. In any game, the gameplay itself should always be the main focus of the development team. If it isn't, then that story may be better off being told in a non-interactive format, such as a film or graphic novel. Players can usually forgive subpar visuals if the game is still "fun", but if the core mechanics are fundamentally broken and unenjoyable, then the game itself has failed.

It's interesting that one of the questions for this prompt concerns videogames and film. As a matter of fact, the first scholarly analysis of videogames was done from a film studies perspective. I can think of a few games, such as the high-energy, parkour-focused, linear-story Mirror's Edge, that could have done equally well as an action movie. While it is true that videogames and film are both highly-visual, time-based art forms, they have one principle difference: interactivity. Movies are passive forms of entertainment--you grab some popcorn, sit back, and let the screen tell you a story. Videogames require that you become an active participant in order to move the story along. The Wolf Among Us, a fantasy-flavored film-noir-esque mystery game, plays out in an episodic format that could be compared to a television series. However, the game's branching narrative (in which the actions and dialogue the player chooses determine the course of the game) would be lost, taking the game's unique appeal with it. I agree that videogames have some similarities to film, but they should still be considered a medium unto themselves.

As a medium, I do hope that videogames achieve greater status in the art world. However, I also have an almost selfish hope that they never become too art-centric. I want videogames to stay videogames, something that the average person can pick up and have fun with, without needing a fine arts degree to understand. They don't belong in art museums behind glass cases for hipsters to come and stare at and make up pretentious theories about their hidden meanings. It's hugely fun to discuss videogames with other fans, but they should be played and experienced too, otherwise their primary function--interactivity--is denied. Videogames are art for the common man, and I never, ever want to see them become akin to the lifeless "modern art" that hangs in some galleries.

As for a particular game that deserves to be art, I'm not sure I could pick just one. I consider any game that provided a memorable experience to be art. But as an example, let's go with the Shelter games, of which there are two. The first has you taking on the role of a mother badger with a litter of cubs, whom you must feed and protect from danger, while the second focuses on a lynx family in a similar situation. The first game is more linear, moving you from scenario to scenario as the "story" progresses, while the second is open-world and allows you to roam freely through a variety of landscapes, with only the changing seasons to mark progression through the game. With minimal narration, and without ever attributing overly-human emotions and characteristics to the all-animal cast, the games paint a story of struggle, survival, and sacrifice against the backdrop of harsh and unforgiving wilderness. I would call this game art for it's harmonious balance of visuals and gameplay, as well as its surprising ability to create a poignant emotional bond to a bunch of polygonal baby animals.

(This got really long and rambly I'm sorry)