Video games have evolved rapidly over the last 20 years into a fledgling artistic medium. Starting as simple computational representations of more traditional ‘games’ (e.g. Tetris (Pazhitnov, 1984) is a spatial awareness puzzle, Pac-Man (Namco, 1980), a game of chase) and steadily developing more and more narrative context as technology improved to accommodate more elaborate visual representations and characterization, video games have evolved to the point where story can be essential to the success of video game. I say ‘can’ because the term ‘video game’ encompasses an incredible variety of works, often completely dissimilar to each other. For the purposes of this essay I shall look exclusively at video games with narrative ambitions and not at genres like sporting simulations or puzzle games that, generally speaking, do not emphasize narrative.
I shall also look at the still vaguely defined academic area of games studies and the debate between the concepts of Ludology and Narratology, each having it’s own views on the appropriateness of video games as a narrative medium. The debate as to whether video games are a narrative or non-narrative medium is a heated one amongst the various academics of the ideologies mentioned above, though I don’t believe it to be as contentious as some would claim. In my opinion video games can be both a narrative and non-narrative medium depending on the aims of the designer. What I find more interesting is the challenge game designers face when attempting to convey narrative through this new medium. Already many different techniques have been explored, some more successfully than others. In this essay I will analyse some of these techniques with respect to the ability of video games to convey rhetoric and ultimately, coherent and meaningful narrative. Essentially, how do video games tell us stories? And how should game designers go about conveying their ideas to players?
When talking about narrative in video games, it is first necessary to assert that games are actually capable of a new form of rhetoric. There are a litany of examples of storytelling conveyed in video games through text (The Legend of Zelda), audio (Bioshock), video (Command and Conquer Series), and both computer generated filmic inserts (Final Fantasy XIII) and cut scenes (Uncharted 2: Among Thieves). These techniques can be seen as old forms of rhetoric placed within a new context, somewhat akin to title cards in silent film. However, this ‘old media’ rhetoric is not all that video games are capable of. The new form of rhetoric that games are capable of has been termed ‘Procedural Rhetoric’ (Bogost).
Procedural rhetoric can be explained as the ability of the mechanics of a game conveying an idea embedded therein by the designer, e.g. when the player’s avatar drinks a certain quantity of alcohol in Grand Theft Auto IV (Rockstar North, 2008), control of the avatar becomes unwieldy and it is much easier to attract the attention of the police when driving a car, usually ending in arrest. By constructing the mechanics of the game to penalise the player for driving a car while ‘drunk’ the designers make explicit whether they believe people should drive while inebriated, utilising the players artifice within the game world as well as direct audiovisual feedback demonstrating the result of the player’s decisions.
Accepting that the mechanics of a game have the ability to convey ideas and persuade is very important when considering whether games are an adept medium to tell stories within, but it is also problematic, for a variety of reasons.
This leads us to the debate between Ludologists and Narratologists in the field of Game Studies. While narratologists believe that games are an extension of traditional forms of narrative such as film, literature and theatre, ludologists maintain that the interactive nature of video games set them apart from traditional forms of linear narrative. This ludic representation has been termed ‘simulation’ and (for supporters of the ludologist side of the debate) is entirely distinct from narrative. Ludologists propose that the real power of representation for the ‘simauthor’ is in the careful calibration of the various mechanics that define the play space, the ‘rules’ so to speak. Most scholars in the game studies debate fall on one side or the other. In my reading on the subject I came across one other point of view, that of Henry Jenkins. Jenkins proposes that “a story is less a temporal structure than a body of information” and that for a game to present a successful narrative “the game world becomes a kind of information space, a memory palace”. Jenkins terms this 'Narrative Architecture'.
While each of these theories is interesting and meritorious, none of them explore, or in some cases, even admit video games their full potential as a narrative medium. Mainstream game designers strive to describe a compelling narrative that the player is engaged in and desires to see through to it’s conclusion. In doing so they do not exclude nor promote any one of the aforementioned ideologies above another. Here, interactivity is not seen as the end all and be all of what the game comprises but instead a means by which to experience a narrative.
For example, Half Life 2 (Valve, 2004) follow a predetermined and non-negotiable narrative. The events that one player will experience will be essentially the same as those of another player. As in Jenkins ‘Narrative Architecture’ players will encounter pieces of information (old newspapers, graffiti, television broadcasts, ambient dialogue that build the players awareness of the overarching narrative within which the more localised and specific sequence of events of the game proper are set. In addition elements of procedural rhetoric in the piece become simplistic reinforcements of that which other means of conveyance have already told us: the enemies are bad because they attempt to kill us, our allies are good because they help us, etc.
Though this may seem like an incredibly unsatisfactory level of depth for a narrative experience, the fact that one means of rhetoric, procedural, is accompanied by many other methods of representation means the piece, as a whole, becomes incalculably stronger as a result. Conveyed by other means, the base narrative of Half Life 2 would quite likely be just another apocalyptic science fiction story. Presented as it is, through an interactive medium, the story becomes completely absorbing. The player wants not only to ‘beat the game’ but also, (and probably more) to find out what will happen to the player character and supporting cast, as well as to try to piece together what has happened to the world that the player navigates.
As I have stated above, I don’t believe any position in the games studies debate is unequivocally right or wrong, be it ludology, narratology or otherwise. What concerns me more is how game designers will use each of these ideologies in furthering video game narratives in future. Here, it is important to consider another piece of game design theory: the concept of ‘Ludonarrative Dissonance’. This concept was proposed by Clint Hocking, a noted video game designer, in a critique of Bioshock (Levine, 2008).
According to Hocking the game offers two contracts to the player, one ludic: ‘seek power and you will progress’, the other narrative: ‘help Atlas and you will progress’ (Atlas is a character who guides the player within the narrative context of the game). Hocking believes that these two contracts contradict each other in that the ludology of the game tells the player that a Randian Objectivist approach will help them progress with the most expediency and is therefore ‘best’ whereas the prescribed narrative and narrative architecture continually condemn Objectivism as an ideology. While this is not in itself specifically a problem (contrasting success within the rules of the games with a narrative assertion that your methods were morally wrong would not consist a failure, in my opinion), the single string narrative that the player is commanded to follow does not allow for the same level of experimentation as the ludic elements and forces the player out of character if they chose to adopt an Objectivist approach to play. This conflict between the narrative and ludic elements of the game creates a disjointed experience that corrupts the best intentions of the game designers to convey a meaningful rhetoric on the subject of objectivism. ‘Bioshock’ is amongst the most conceptually ambitious video games of recent memory and succeeds on many levels, yet this ludonarrative dissonance causes it to fall short of the medium defining piece it could have been.
As I have discussed above, there are a myriad of rhetorical methods available to game designers to best exploit this new medium. In my opinion, any debate between which is the ‘true’ form of video game rhetoric is pointless. The problem lies not in which is the best or most valid ideology with which to make a video game but in how to most successfully and appropriately marry each in unobstructive concert within the same piece, allowing the player to engage with the narrative and themes of a piece on a variety of levels simultaneously. Perhaps this is a ‘Holy Grail’ proposition for game design, but nonetheless, I feel that it is something that all game designers should seek to aspire to, or at least be cognisant of. Video games simply won’t evolve without a full awareness and consideration of the rhetorical methods available to them as well as their impact on the player and interaction with each other. If video game designers wish to see this evolution they will have to not only attempt to break from the preconception of video games as ‘toys’ through engagement with challenging thematic material, as ‘Bioshock’ did with Objectivism, but also become literate in the various rhetorical methods video games make available to them and, possibly more importantly, the interplay between these methods.