Storytelling

Back in the day the holy grail of computer games was that of the interactive movie. The idea being that the best features of moviemaking (compelling story, writing, immersion and identification with characters) could be combined with the interactive elements of videogames.

The argument has run ever since. My thinking had been that it’s impossible to compare the two, let alone cross-pollinate them. Movies (and books, and the theatre) provide a linear experience: the audience is led through the narrative, not being given any choice in the matter. In some cases this is the whole point of the experience as lack of choice often challenges the audience to confront feelings and situations that they might otherwise wish to avoid, and this is total anathema to the interactive nature of games. In other cases it provides a vicarious thrill. This is the point where games can most closely replicate a cinema experience but even so the comparison is limited – the player can, ultimately, not be trusted with the narrative, cannot be trusted to make the ‘right’ decisions to lead to the most satisfying gameplay experience. The very act of defining what the subject of a game is sets clear boundaries (to a wider or narrower degree) to the players experience of it in the same way that a script clearly sets boundaries to a moviegoers experience.

For example Mario must always rescue the princess, the Master Chief must always complete his mission objectives against the Covenant, Lara Croft must reach the treasure at the heart of the maze. In all cases the player has freedom but within certain clearly defined boundaries. True interactivity would allow them to ignore these boundaries but would also negate the whole point of a gaming experience.

Even sandbox titles have boundaries in the sense of most having a clearly defined narrative that exists in an arena where there is a degree of greater freedom. In GTA IV the player is not forced to follow the story in their individual experience but if they wish to experience that story they must do so in a rigidly proscribed way (the two or three opportunities for decision-making are exceptions that prove the rule – in each of those cases the player is allowed only two possible options). Often this narrative is necessary to give purpose. In Assassin’s Creed it is fun to run Altair all over the Middle East, but far more so when one is running for a purpose; to a target or away from guards.

Yesterday I picked up Mass Effect for the first time in ages. I liked it on the first playthrough and am having great fun on my second try, even though I know the broad thrust of the storyline. There are no twists for me this time, I know where things are going. However, the fact I am still enjoying it perhaps provides the key for understanding how the videogame/movie hybrid may best be understood. The goal has been freedom for the player – basically tricking them into following a narrative. A different approach is to co-opt the player from the very beginning: to have the player assist in the telling of a clearly defined story. It is entirely possible for a reader to subvert a book or viewer to subvert a movie – either skip to the last page (or DVD chapter) or look up a synopsis on the internet. But people, as a rule, don’t do this. They like to be told stories.

Mass Effect plays like re-reading a pulpy novel, or watching a well-worn sci-fi or action film. There is leeway to the interactive element (different side-quests to complete, alternative dialogue trees and the like) but I’m on this second playthrough not reluctantly, to squeeze out all the content, but rather with a mind to enjoying the whole experience, even those parts in which I don’t have a choice. Some games have deliberately moved away from the interactive movie model (Far Cry 2 is an immersive experience in its own right). Others take the very linearity of video games as a theme (Bioshock). Where this cocktail of linearity and interactive liberty is actively sought, the key is in not trying to trick the player into thinking he or she is at total liberty but rather to enlist them as a collaborator in the telling of the story.

More European Election Excitement

Recent events look to have made June 4 a potential bonanza for the smaller political parties in the European elections. This has made a large billboard which sprang up near my flat recently especially interesting.





Specifically the white patch (circled in black) blanks out what was an actual swastika - not a symbol one sees with much frequency in British political advertising. It's perhaps not a great surprise that this, literal, cover-up has taken place but it goes someway to create respect for the ballsiness of what might otherwise seem a rather milquetoast religious party.

Annoyed I didn't get any of the poster in its original state.

A Message from David Cameron

Last Writes

Farewell then, The Unit. It was a show that never garnered much attention in the UK, probably because - despite a solid cast, prestigious writers and good production values - it could not have been more wrapped in the stars and stripes had it been a military coffin returning from Iraq.

In some senses the anti-Generation Kill, The Unit had the same approach to authenticity as a Tom Clancy novel - obsession with technical details and the nuances of intra-military dialogue in the context of an over-arching storyline bloated with conspiracy, conspicuous heroics and painted in manichean ethical shading. It was at times dishonest (in its representation of anti-war protests especially) but had an earthy, world-weary quality lacking in its ideological bedfellow 24.

Was it good drama? In the sense that it was, essentially, a thinking-man's Chuck Norris film then no. However it was unique in offering a guns-and-bombs thriller with a little more substance than any equivalent on TV. One might disagree with its message, but the message was, on occasion, there.

It heroically stretched the ability of the continental united states to represent settings from Macau to Switzerland, from Afghanistan to the Philippines and never skimped on the action. It featured, briefly, William H Macy as U.S. president and Dennis Haysbert with a shaved head and little goatee beard(for a few episodes at least). It provided a pleasantly jingoistic way of spending the time and showed, terrifyingly, how the safety of the U.S. relies on three minor-character actors, the T1000 from Terminator 2 and that bloke who was president on 24. Semper Fi.