Is Open-Ended Narrative Holding Back Gaming?
By:
Alex Pieschel
|
April 22, 2011, 9:45 pm

It’s difficult for me to recall the first time a game really grabbed me, but the sensation I felt is still vivid. It was one of inexplicable immersion. One of the first was Secret of the Stars, a SNES RPG that claimed many hours of my young life. My parents would let me rent a game every other week or so, so my time with these gems was limited. I remember rushing to get ready for school, so I could squeeze in a few measly minutes of gaming before I left. Like a ton of other Japanese RPGs, Secret of the Stars featured a group of children on a quest to save the world. It’s the first game in which I can remember leveling up, using elemental abilities, and wandering across a blissfully two-dimensional, idyllic world map. The game itself was fairly unremarkable, even for its time, but what it did for me was awaken a sense of wonderment at the potential of the medium. The game told its tale aesthetically and audibly, and I felt empowered because the plot hinged on my ability to progress. I had read Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, authors who allowed me to float away to fantastical literary realms, but I appreciated my gaming experience for different reasons. I came away with the sense not that this medium was a superior art form, but that it was simply something different; something new and unexpected; something that I hadn’t considered.

The question, “Are games art?” is thrown around a lot within the gaming community. It can’t be denied that video games are important and it’s obvious that they greatly impact culture and society. Perhaps we should just leave it at that. But then again, maybe we shouldn’t. Personally, I believe that the video game, as any other medium does, allows the possibility for the creation of something great, and I’ve played many games that I would consider great for various reasons. However, I think this particular medium, with its ability to combine aesthetic, the written word, sound and interactivity in a way that is largely unprecedented, still has a lot of untapped potential. I still play video games because I still feel the way I felt  over a decade ago: Here is something new and unexpected. Here is something different.

We’ve come a long way from Secret of the Stars. The contemporary gaming scene is blessed with a diverse selection of quality content, but it also suffers from an over-saturation of sequels and spin-offs. It’s a strange and exciting time to be a gamer. The role that story-telling has to play in this expression still has yet to be determined. Though some would argue that narrative doesn’t matter in video games, I think that story is only irrelevant if no one cares, and gamers clearly care about story. From what I’ve seen, people don’t just want high scores and headshots anymore. They want Mass Effects, Heavy Rains and Red Dead Redemptions: integrated presentations of narrative and gameplay that are cleverly executed and unique to this medium. But then, sometimes I feel like I’m part of a fickle demographic. As a gamer, I’m overloaded with time-consuming, over-hyped content, and I’m still unsure of exactly what I want out of a video game.
 

These days, the undisputed heavyweight champion of video game storytelling is Bioware, the Canadian company that churns out plot-heavy RPGs like a well-oiled machine. Some would argue that they’ve nearly perfected the craft. Their implementation of the dialogue wheel and emphasis on alternate narrative outcomes are both design staples that have proven influential. One of the first notable games to offer alternate endings was Chrono Trigger, released 1995, forever to be displayed on a golden pedestal of glimmering nostalgia. Now, largely thanks to Bioware, it’s all but expected for games that emphasize plot to offer choices that affect the larger consequences of the main story. Which leads me to my main question: If you, as the player, are given control over the choices a character makes, can this character ultimately be anything more than a blank slate? Think back on the characters you found most interesting in the Mass Effect series. Was Commander Shepard even in your top five? He’s not in mine. How about Fallout 3? The story is engaging, and the world boasts interesting characters, but the protagonist in that game isn’t anything more than a list of perks and conversation options.



My favorite video game character from last year, hands down, was Red Dead Redemption’s John Marston. Marston’s grim acceptance of his inherent flaws and his inevitable fate won me over from the start. If I had experienced any other ending than the one I got or any other progression towards that ending for that matter, then the character would have been diminished in my eyes. Sure, in Red Dead you could choose to be “good” or “evil” (there was even a morality meter), but your sandbox actions did not affect the story arch or Marston’s character development. While the Mass Effect and Dragon Age series boast compelling stories and characters, none of their characters come close to John Marston. In Bioware’s games, the crew is always more interesting than the hero. John Marston feels like a real character. Commander Shepard just seems like he’s really good at reading lines.

In a recent article, IGN’s Hilary Goldstein said “Playing the middle ground is a less effective way to advance through Mass Effect 2. You want to fill that meter and, more often than not, your choices are less about facing moral dilemmas and more about fulfilling a game function.“ Goldstein was talking about the drawbacks of meta-gaming, but his description of how players approach dialogue options is relevant to this topic as well. Perhaps developers’ obsession with personality meters is part of a larger issue. Maybe the open-ended narrative is a mechanic that developers need to reevaluate in order to (at the risk of sounding cliché) push the video game to the next level. Sure, the idea that you can affect the outcome of an epic yarn is intriguing, but is there room for real character  development in this system? A character that is defined by polarized decisions such as “kill them” or “let them live” cannot have realistic motivations. Is the video game destined to be nothing more than a choose-your-own-adventure book that you can play?

I’m not saying the open-ended narrative is dead, or even that it needs to be. Nor is it my intention to diminish the accomplishments brought about by this mechanic. Heavy Rain was my favorite game from last year. David Cage’s riveting interactive drama does incredible things with choice and consequence, and Ethan Mars is a damn good character. Furthermore, Mass Effect 2 is the only PS3 game that has inspired me to acquire that elusive platinum trophy, and I still want to play through it again. But maybe it’s time to reconsider the idea of open-ended, non-linear storytelling. Is this mechanic truly the pinnacle of narrative in video games, or do developers need to move on to something different before the medium can move forward?

Page URL:
blog comments powered by Disqus