Saturday 14 December 2013

Thesis complete and open to the public

Well really it was completed about two months ago.

So here it is: Interactivity and Narrative: the role of a videogame writer.

 My examiners' reports were fair in their criticism - I could have easily been more specific with references, cleaned up paragraphs for better flow, and there were/are typos evenly spread through the thesis.

Overall though pretty good, they recommended further study, with particular attention to the above flaws. So I'm happy about that, how the mark reflected those comments, and how everything worked itself out.

Other than that though this post will be another stop-gap for a little while. I do have a review of XCOM: Enemy Within though if you're yearning for something game related. Everything is finally ending work-uni-life wise for the year, so hopefully I'll have time to recuperate, recharge and write.

Till that time, I'll catch you later.

Sunday 1 December 2013

Intermission

Alright. I know I've been radio silent for the last month, but I do have an important reason for that – finishing up the last bits and pieces of my thesis (which I’ll post after I've received corrections for it), but also presenting, spruiking, and charming people into listening to my PhD proposal.

That is “Narrative Structures in Videogames.”

Here’s the brief:

Research Proposal: Narrative Construction In Videogames
This thesis is concerned with providing a methodology to analyse narrative based games, furthering the already established research of Janet Murray and Chris Bateman to incorporate new forms of narrative. Through providing a methodology for different narrative structures - the linear, multi-linear, and emergent – the narrative direction of various games can be analysed more comprehensively allowing for more critical links between narrative and gameplay. To incorporate this methodology The Last Of Us, The Walking Dead and Gone Home will be analysed in respect to each of these narrative structures.

So far so good in terms of applying (I did so back at the end of October), and in getting supervisors – still all I have to do now is wait. Quick bit of trivia before we let this proposal go, apparently actor guided agency/Barthian viewpoints on narrative is the "in" thing currently (I discovered this through the response of a potential supervisor).

Other than that I've been writing up reviews for AuReview, in their VideAU section. So far I've published two articles on Bioshock: Burial At Sea, and Assassin’s Creed 4 Black Flag. So that’s pretty exciting.

I should have another coming out this week for XCOM Enemy Within.


Currently, due to the wait of both results, graduation and the PhD for next year things seem to be in a state of purgatory – I’m tempted to write more about the independent games scene in Melbourne. But for that I want to do it properly and have it as a project that continues onward regardless of how busy I get (unlike a certain blog). Regardless I should have some more posts coming up in the next couple of weeks.

For now I'm holidaying in Canberra, before Christmas, and work grab hold of me.

Wednesday 16 October 2013

The Ludonarrative divide - or the ludicrous separation of elements in a game

Say you have a book. A nice ordinary book, with white pages a Times New Roman font and maybe even a cover with a picture on it.

You read it and you enjoy the overall story, although you're not very ecstatic about it. So you ask a professional what he/she thinks, a reviewer of fine literature.

They tell you that there is a format-narrative divide in that the reading of the narrative the font distracts from the overall story - they say they need this font to adequately reflect the story, strong cursive for romance, or red dripping text for horror.

You agree with these wise reviewers because they know what they're talking about, so you try another book, this time one where the font adequately reflects the subject manner, going smaller with whispers and louder with shouts. It's a great read, but you still wonder how you can improve upon it.

Back to the reviewers you go questioning what could possibly be the matter with the book.  They reply with knowing exclamations of shock and patronizing, along the lines of "well it's obviously a book, just look at it." You are a little confused at this divine truth that has just been bequeathed upon you and you look up at these figures trying to work out what to look for next.

It's simple - well at least according to those wise reviewers.

"Find a book that does not look like a book."

So you search, you look for texts printed out on hundreds of playing cards, books written from wall to wall inside of buildings around the world, you attempt to interact with the new electronic ink tablets that change on input. They're fun and interesting, but the story... it still doesn't grab you.

So you go back to the reviewers, head low, pride beaten into the ground, your eyes slits from the tears and reading that you've attempted to keep up.

But...

It's too much, there's nothing you can do, you have failed to improve upon the act of reading, the art of books, your perception of reality.

With a heavy sigh you return to the reviewers.

They are happy though, happy beyond all reason. Positively ecstatic.

What could it be?

They parade around a simple normal book that each of them snatches and claws at, trying to read the content. But why? The book is the most stereotypical thing that they could be reading, it has the same font as the first book you read, the same presentation, it even lacks a cover to compliment it's form. You ask your question louder.

"Why?"

The reviewers pay little to no heed to the shout, all nodding their heads acknowledging that the issue was a delicate one.

"The book works, because it is what it says it is. A book, about a book, that's in full awareness of it's book like nature. In this there is no format-narrative divide, because the divide is precisely the subject matter."

You stand there blinking for a while, your anger slowly rising.

"So books about books are the way to go? The search for new media, new representations of books is not at all important.... What's important is the self acknowledgement of the medium, a hyper-aware novel that knows its limitations?"

"Yes."

The anger bubbles through to the surface quickly.

"So why bother with anything else? Why try for interesting stories that push their creativity to the forefront, that aren't concerned about whether the typeface matches the story? All you're doing here is congratulating books on being hyper-aware of their existence, or who are bluntly about themselves. There's no nuance in that."

The reviewers look on for a few moments, blinking at your outburst. Then they return to their book.

###

So, a parable, metaphor, whatever you want to call it is presented to you. How are we going to analyse it,  there are a bunch of different ways:


  • The ludonarrative divide is a cosmetic one?
  • The ludonarrative divide can add meaning and should be pursued?
  • Reviewers can be dicks and close minded (in particular on ludonarrrativity)?
  • A game or story that is self aware enough (or blunt enough) to point out its existence is good (but shouldn't be)?
  • Ludonarrativity is just a buzz word?
  • Story overall is what you're after, therefore in order for there to be no ludonarrative divide there needs to be a strong story.
  • Gameplay overall is what you're after, therefore in order for there to be no ludonarrative divide there needs to be a strong gameplay.


Let's start at the beginning though, books here are meant to be a metaphor for games. Format-narrative divide is something I made up, and has links to ludonarrative divide, but also, and far more interestingly multimodality (which is a great term used to explore the relationship between pictures and words in comics).

Originally games are happy to be games, this is where the book angle comes in  and a normal piece of literature is seen to be on equal footing to videogames - in particular narrative based games (this sort of makes the analogy better to understand, gameplay is hard to represent elsewhere).

Here is where anyone who likes the idea of the ludonarrative divide can come and strike me down, because, foolishly and simplistically, I've represented the idea of gameplay/story as the one thing (so side stepping the issue completely), or made the divide between the two ideas of story and gameplay wider, with me using the presentation and aesthetic qualities of a book to represent gameplay. This admittedly is where you can shoot down all my ideas, but I think that's a bit too close minded.

For the purposes of taking one medium, videogames, and providing a comparison to another older medium, books, I've managed to put a point across about how we accept the conventions linked with media. People don't expect to be able to access books in any other way than reading, with videogames (even though we can change our interaction through haptic controls) also has this accepted method in which we access them through play.

To complain about the method of interaction not matching up with the gameplay/story direction is a bit like complaining that there's too much alcohol at a bar, it's an accepted part of what makes games intrinsically games, and books, books.

However this is not exactly what the ludonarrative divide distinctly talks about, and already I'm getting way too deep in my analysis of interacting with different mediums.

Back to explaining the parable/metaphoric connections with books/videogames.

With the idea of changing font, in order to enhance the readers immersion, I gave a nod to the idea of messing around with para-textual elements (this is a weird niche element of creative writing/publishing). Basically para-textual elements refer to the extra bits in books, so the font, the blurb, the publishing information, the titles, the footnotes, etc. Basically anything within the book that isn't considered to be part of the text, or critical to the enjoyment of the story.

In videogames these para-textual elements exist as well in terms of menus, title screens, setup screens, readmes, manuals, online communities, etc. They all have something to do with the game, but on their own they aren't that important - together though they can make some really cool narrative story arcs or explain gameplay. (Think Left 4 Dead's opening, that can be argued to be a tutorial, as it sets up the game.)

In this changing around the para-textual elements is a cool way to enhance either gameplay, or narrative, but most people don't consider that to be part of the ludonarrative divide. Which sends me up the wall, because it is a good way to enhance the story/gameplay, even if at times it can seem a bit gimmicky.

Where you get into the ludonarrative side of things - which admittedly is not what all ludonarrative people promote -  is when any one particular element, say how the character moves, or reacts is deemed to have a huge standing within the scope of the game - this is supposed to be reflected in the change of font. Certain narrative or gameplay allowances have to be made for the medium of the videogame. That doesn't mean we have to be inconsistent, just a little forgiving with certain elements. FPS narrative heroes become monsters because of their gameplay actions - the same thing can be said about the Indiana Jones movies, or Star Wars films, the characters by their actions aren't heroes, but the narrative makes them out to be.

Though that's not to say that videogames shouldn't try to address these problems of incongruous narrative and gameplay. I just don't think the issue lies in ludonarrative dissonance, rather it's a product of stereotypical narrative or gameplay.

Anyway here is where I think I'll leave my metaphor explanation/critic/rant of ludonarrative dissonance. The other two issues that  I wanted to get into (but haven't because of length) is the explorations of new depictions of videogames (a cool and good thing), and also the trouble with appeasing game critics (or how videogames should be wary of being too self aware of themselves).

Anyhoo till next time. Till then I'll be mulling over those aforementioned points. And to boot I'll actually write up a proper academic paper on multi-modality and videogames (with references and everything).

P.S: I handed in my thesis, so I hope that it all goes well.

Saturday 14 September 2013

Gone Home, Emergent Narrative





Gone Home is an elitist narrative, with its open world complexity merely a costume, to hide the shallow plot. There's no way for you to proceed through the game than a simple A to point B, acceptance of the plot, follow the bread trail and you'll find out what happened.


Gone Home is an open narrative, where its freedom of choice becomes the ultimate agency - you choose what you want to explore, you construct the narrative how you want to. The entire procedure is chaotic, with the simple task of going through a house bringing up all sorts of questions - what does this mean, what's this? Who was that? Why is that here? A strong vignette of mini stories unfolds in front of the audience's mind. There is no straight path to follow, just whatever shape we can make out from the clues.


Hmmmm.... What else has been said?

Cameron Kunzelman from This Cage Is Worms  provides a list of 28 perspectives on the game, ranging from ludo-narrative harmony (which is as buzz wordy as dissonance), to a discourse on abuse. They're all right in their own way about the interpretation of the game. It can be seen as a success, as easily as it can be seen as a disaster.

That's the problem with emergent narrative.

Narrative is always characterised by a beginning, a middle, and an end.

Emergent content, or rather your ability to create content, is limitless, you could go on making suppositions about any particular object or series of events (I'm looking to you causation), with no external pressures because people are innately curious and empathetic.

Now, Gone Home, taking out all the extra features of a 3d engine, a graphical display, voice overs, to the barest elements of plot, you find yourself with a simple tale of going from A to B "What happened in this house," turns into "what happened to my little sister," especially when the high beams of a voice over beat you over the head with the fact that Katie IS THE FOCUS OF THE GAME.

Now is that a bad thing? The game is deeper than it first appears, narrowing its focus down onto one character, don't books do this a lot? Don't they hit you over the head with the use of a Proper Noun or first person viewpoint? Yeah but that's.........

Different is what the emergent aspect is. Although you could liken it to a Roland Barthes analysis of what the audience does to literature, or any theory of character or place (that of being thin, or round characters), but in the end it's just how the reader goes about interpreting the events presented. In this we have our subjective viewpoints upon narrative, ala This Cage Is Worms. The problem with this is that people can only get out of the story, what they're willing to find - be that ludonarrative harmony (ergh! buzzword disdain for another time), or an analysis of social hegemony of white middle class.

What the writer or designer here does is simply present a framework on which the audience can work upon - what's different is that the writers are much more traditional in the way that they provide narrative.
The writers here provides clues, and even outright state (through telling not showing) that these hunches or constructed narratives are right - but not for all of them. In many cases writers (of any kind) will leave grey areas open for interpretation. What they don't do is provide any dynamics to these revelations.
In most videogames, feedback is given instantly on the main plot, through the in-game characters who give the player an almost chorus like analysis of how the narrative. In more gameplay focused games its, health bars and point meters. Gone Home, while it provides us with the tools in which to construct our interpretations, doesn't interact with our discoveries. (This is somewhat ignoring the small combination puzzles, which are of the "find blue key to blue lock" variety).

Gone Home succeeds in both the telling of the narrative of Katie, and through providing a framework for players to explore the rest of the family. The only room for criticism that it has is in the past tense nature of the plot, everything has already happened, and nothing will ever happen - your agency is limited to observing rather than interacting. Though all of that is tied up with the intrinsic nature of stories, we tell them because they're based off events that have already happened - plot is to a large part predetermined, the ending, along with the start pre-written. Though videogames could change that.

Nevertheless, Gone Home is a great narrative game, with the depth that you can delve into its shadowy rooms, there's always a skeleton to be found - (note the allusion to the horror genre *wink wink*). The discourse around it alone has made it an interesting case study for how people respond to narrative in videogames.

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Next up! How I hate the phrase ludonarrative dissonance.


Thursday 12 September 2013

Gameplay and Guttered narrative, XCOM: The Bureau







XCOM: The Bureau isn't the game it was back when it was first shown at E3 2011. Edgy neat, reeking of the Hitchcock Hour and The Prisoner, with an air of survivor horror.

It was, supposedly, going to rock our socks off. It was going to be as great as Firaxis' remake, a real show stopper.


But it wasn't.

It was a well polished tactical 3rd person shooter, as clean shaven and square as any game before it.

It didn't do anything new.

Under the hood it seemed to be a poor man's Mass Effect with none of the scale. A better shooting and gameplay mechanic in ordering your squad with enemies around, but ... it just wasn't enough to tide me over into thinking that it was a good game.

Just a good tactical shooter, not a good game.

The slow motion effects when issuing orders and the cleverness of the AI to flank, to pull back and forth, with the rise and fall of battle, to have cover change in an instant with the movements of the enemy.

It pulled that all off with flying colours. The battles went across the fields, out from streets and into barn houses. Not in any spectacular way, just solid, actions would force enemy aliens to move across from you in a sinister dance of war.



But its story.... it just brought it down to its knees, the whole spectacle of U.S. military bases being blown up, your secret weapon to destroy the alien threat, the lack of any nuanced guerrilla activity, it all just seemed to fall away in the execution.

But there was still that something, a small element of storytelling that makes  it to the end of The Bureau and ties up your technical abilities. Through the presence of the Ethereals (the ascended/incorporeal "good" aliens), or as the game states, through your presence. This clever, player within alien, within character makes the decisions of your character and the divide that he has of different choices all explainable and relevant to the plot.

In probably one of the best immersion/out of nowhere moves, the main character collapses as you're running down a corridor, Carter runs, trying to get away from something. Then, all of a sudden you notice the camera pulling back from Carter, refocusing as a first person viewpoint with four outstretched tentacles. You are the alien creature, pulling the strings of Carter. From then on, the game progresses quickly, Carter refuses to host the alien presence any further and attempts to blow up the facility, the ethereal takes control of another member of the staff and continues to fight off the invading aliens. The conspiracy, along the lines of  Bioshock's (2006) "Would you kindly.." is nice twist in an otherwise boring game.

<I'd have a screenshot here, but the section in question is in this link)

The problem is that it's too little too late. A small reminder of what the game could have been, if the pro-America, freedom or death, linear path hadn't stopped it from becoming the game that it could've been.

Perhaps it was  comment on the very conformist suburbia of America's mid 50s? A homage to the black and white tales of pulp science fiction tales? A satire on America's homeland defence? I don't know, but with that small segment, I almost saw what it could have been.

####

Not too much of a deep analysis here, but if I slaved over it, I'd probably end up hating the game. In all fairness it's a solid game, 2K just didn't really go all out on what they wanted - it seems as though marketing or someone smothered it in it's infancy and all we're left with is an oxygen starved shell.

Anyhow, next up Gone Home (since everyone is talking about it, and it has decent characterisation of female characters).

Saturday 24 August 2013

Dystopian, or just merely bleak? Paper's Please




The faded colours and muted sounds wash over you as the steady thumping of rubber stamps lulls you into a false sense of security.

Accepted - you don't notice the mistakes, perhaps there are none.

Denied - you notice the date, the mismatch of photo ID, the wrong Passport numbers.

You do not break out of your rhythm, instead steadily keep up with the pace that you've set yourself - more than 15, better if it's 20. But those are goals that you do not think about in this medley. You keep to the task at hand. You ignore the pleas, you do not see the end to a the line, you do not worry about what happens within your country's walls.

All is put down to the simple query of "Papers please."


Recently I've been playing Papers, Please, a dystopian paper thriller, that locks you into an endless (well 31 day) cycle of accepting and rejecting entry into Arstozka - as well as whatever story elements sneak their way past border security.

And it's a great. Not just because of the tedium of bureaucracy (which somewhat paradoxically is one of it's highlights), its variation of plot, or the complimentary aesthetic, but the steady decline (for the player) into simply being a cog in the machine of Arstozka.

Much like Hotline Miami, or Spec Ops: The Line, the game coerces the player into a subtle devaluation of human lives, towards viewing them as simply objects of monetary value. Faces, by the end of the game, are made into no more than bar-codes for you to scan, process and move on.

The game does this in two ways: the mechanised interaction of immigration, and the motivation of your family's well being. For the time being we'll focus on the motivational aspect, as while the game mechanics are the actual game part, the storyline, or character imperative to continue in this bleak existence is based upon the family.

Family

Every day after your shift, you are presented with a table of sorts listing the money that you earned, and the various costs of food, rent, heat, and whatever else pops up. To the right there are four circles, coloured green just like the text with the words "Ok," imprinted within them, underneath lie their names. Wife, Son, Mother-in-law and Uncle. These are the four beings that rely upon your bureaucratic efficiency to protect them from the threat of starvation, sickness, or homelessness (the player's character, interestingly enough, does not suffer from sickness, or hunger, only bankruptcy). These are the people that need your job, that you accept and deny immigrants and other foreigners. These are the people that you agonise over whether to keep fed, or warm, because you don't have enough money to pay for everything. These four green dots, provide all (or at the very least most of) the emotional motivation  that encourages players to keep going for 31 days.



Mitigating the harshness of Arstozkan life as well, it is possible to raise the player's family's quality of living with various extra costs, alongside the necessities of food, heat and rent. Failure to do so results in either the death of one of your family members (due to sickness), or your imprisonment.

This game mechanic is the motivation for succession in the game, the suggestion for self improvement  and the reprimand against laziness. It works well as an emotional tool, especially when you consider that you never actually see your family, instead they're all represented by one word states "Ok," "Sick," "Cold,""Hungry," or even, if you've forgone food, or heat, enough times "dead." A very impersonal emotional tool, if you think about what represents them, but an effective one nevertheless. It works towards the players self interests and allows for the player to rationalise their behaviour for denying people entry into Arstozka.

Border



Overlaying this emotional motivation is the border guard interaction, where you actually interact with people. Here you provide asylum to people fleeing persecution, put a halt on smugglers, pass through diplomats - all provided they have the right papers. Unfortunately this means that a lot of entrants are denied based upon incorrect paperwork; whoever issued them made a mistake, the entrant wasn't able to renew his/her passport, etc. At the start of the game, this isn't so much a problem, if you're feeling particularly generous you can allow people in regardless of the state of their papers - maybe their words convinced you; a mother anxious to return to her son, a citizen forgets their ID card. In any case you can let them in, you'll suffer a penalty of course (no fines for the first two, then five for the next two, then ten, and so on), but you'll have the satisfaction of helping out other individuals. Soon though, money becomes tight, and the opportunities for "letting one slip," become smaller and you start to begin moral triage. This person hasn't explained themselves DENIED, this person isn't convincing, DENIED, this person... hasn't offered anything DENIED. It becomes a form of self preservation, and slowly, stamp by stamp, you begin to care less and less about these people, and more about what they represent - money.



In a way the whole endeavour becomes a metaphor for a bleak life, an unending march to the promise of a brighter future, while forever becoming harder and harder to progress, until your corpse is just another one of the hundreds trampled in the entry line to Arstozka. Never mind the warning about dystopian governments, or the moral analysis of  boarder security operations (trusting people vs. the harm that they can do) - Paper's Please, for me, was a waring about emotional priorities; between an impersonal family, who you prioritise for, and entrants who, wear the effects of that prioritisation. You are, for most of the game trading lives (this presumes that on denial their lives will suffer), for the lives, and then happiness of your family. But why does my family (your family, the family) deserve any of that? Compared to what goes on at the border, there's less of a bond with them, than with the strangers that you process. At least there's conversation.

Of course there may be technical, and game mechanic consideration that could easily be the reason for this development in the game. Certainly some emotional interaction with the family is addressed in Paper's Please, in the form of gifts received from the family of photos, or pictures - but I shy away from this, as it is based upon you spending money on extra things. In this you're still trading in lives, for a family that you know little about.



Friday 2 August 2013

The Use Of Agency in Dragon Age 2 and The Walking Dead


Agency is often lauded as the one special feature of videogames in that it allows for the player (ie you) to determine their avatar’s fictional fate. 

But is this really a black and white case which all games seem to have in ample quantities? 

I would say no, as the agency depicted from one game to another is radically different, and enact different expectations in their players, both heightening and lowering expectations of the games plot, character abilities and the enjoyment of the game.

For the rest of this post I will set up what agency is (because there are soooooooooooo many different types and descriptions of agency), and analyse the types of agency present in both Dragon Age 2 and The Walking Dead, setting myself up for an argument to why Dragon Age 2’s ending was more disappointing and less emotively driven than The Walking Dead’s ending.

Note: I do realise this is a subjective opinion, but yet at the same time there are reasons for my opinion and I’m expressing them. Note too that I did enjoy Dragon Age 2, except for its usage of agency and where the  plot fell (WHICH WAS IN A BAD PLACE) at the end.

Note Note 2: There will be spoilers, but to be honest I don't think that anyone reading this will care that much about spoilers for games that are no longer recent.

Agency

Agency is, for the purposes of these games, narrative choices that affect how other in-game characters react to a player's character, as well as choices that determine the player's morality. For more discussion about agency refer to the previous post.


Dragon Age 2
In Dragon Age 2 agency is expressed as it normally would in any Bioware game, you express choices based upon (usually) two different characters’ points of view and decide upon that how to deal with a particular issue.


Agency and disposition in a side quest.

For the most part this exists in a fairly formulistic way, good options are highlighted in blue, bad in red. In later instalments of Bioware games there is a deepening of the impact that these choices have upon your companions. In Mass Effect some alien factions wouldn’t join your cause, in Neverwinter Nights 2 some characters’ specific side quests wouldn’t open up, it goes on. For the most part the agency or choices offered to players are signposted with a lot of exposition, in-game cinematography, and a highlighted UI (showing good as blue and bad actions as red. Furthermore when the particular option is chosen the effects thereof are shown almost immediately with different “good,” or “bad” points assigned to the player with a notification.

For the most part this display of agency is “empowering” of the player in that everything the player does has immediate feedback, and goes the way that the player expects the events to go. In essence it’s a sort of wish fulfilment for the player. Certainly the player has to work towards these goals and do the hard yards of killing x amounts of enemies to get abilities which then affects their character and the plot. But in the end the choice becomes earned, and subsequently the result of that choice is earned as well.

This rarely goes bad for the player.

There is no other option!


That is at least until the end of the game when you are given no other actions, but to accept the fact that there needs to be a war between the two magic groups the Charter and the Apostate groups (due to some terrorist activity by a group member that would otherwise listen to your advice). Even though you’re clearly given the options to try and circumvent it, there is no way that you can prevent the war, or stop your companion from becoming a terrorist. This didn’t feel in line with the games previous indications of agency, and while the non-agency can be explained away by saying that it’s a narrative device (The game has to end this way), the denial of agency felt false. Especially since at other points in the game you are given full control of your agency.  This ruined the game somewhat for me, the game had lied to me.

The Walking Dead
In The Walking Dead, agency is whole other kettle of fish. Agency is presented as it would in other games, the player has a list of possible actions and the in-game character does those actions. You tell Lee to do something and he’ll do it, to the best of his abilities.

Including slipping over on blood and backing away very slowly from zombies.

The key difference here though is that the agency that is attempted by the player isn’t all encompassing – just because you decide to do something, doesn’t necessitate that the action will be successful, your character only has so much control of the events that surround him.




(For the above picture since the formatting is playing up) : One of the first pivotal moments where your agency determines the future result of the game - choosing between saving saving Shawn or Duck – except not really, Shawn Greene (Hershel's son) will die either way.
  

Regardless of Lee’s actions in certain sections, there is no possible way for him to circumvent some situations, because his agency isn’t all encompassing. Lee while certainly directed in the same narrative arch that the Shepherds and Grey Wardens were, is further hampered by his own abilities, and the characters around him. Lee’s inability to stop Shawn's death, Larry’s or even the suicide of Katjaa, are events that in other game universes would simply be a matter of fact. Added to their impact is the agency that other characters have over Lee’s survival, he doesn’t dictate the group, he can only guide, each character is their own unique agent, that as often as not, will go rogue.

The game conditions you with this by firstly denying full agency when an apparent choice is given (the above example of Shawn and Duck), and thereafter only providing the barest hints of choice. Many players, myself included, were not accustomed to this and when this denial of agency was encountered, tried to circumvent it by trying the same scenario again – it took me 20 minutes to realise that there was no way that I could save Hershel’s son. The thing that mattered though was that I could try to prevent that, I was given agency, but only to the extent of Lee’s abilities.

Mass Effect 2 seems to try to supply these complex characters in the idea of the loyalty missions in which Shepherd could win their loyalty over by completing a mission concerning the individual’s backstory. But all of these missions were clearly signposted and easy to navigate, the characters in The Walking Dead were not so logical in the opening up of their loyalties and past histories, instead you have to deal with unstable characters.

Regardless, The Walking Dead through its denial of agency, and actions of their individual characters conditions players to acknowledge their limitations in the game and narrative, as being part of the game world, and so when actions weren’t able to be performed in the Walking Dead, I was much more ready to accept them. Dragon Age 2, on the other hand, alongside other Bioware games, seemed to have narrative agency loss in arbitary circumstances causing immersion and characterization to break, as the situation would appear to be similar to other ones in which my character had control.

Conclusion

 The Walking Dead through its entire arc acclimatizes you to the available actions within the game, whereas Bioware games, Dragon Age 2 in particular does not, and as such, suffers from it. With this acclimatization comes a more ready acceptance of loss and lack of control, repercussions become more personal, loss actual - Dragon Age 2 attempts to do this, but without the preamble making it's ending unexpected and unfair to the player.

Sunday 28 July 2013

Predetermination, agency and narrative



Hey all!

It's been a month, and I've been slack. So here's a little something about agency to make up for it. It's a section taken from a paper on Bioshock. Just note some of the formatting might be off due to the quick word-to-net copy:

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What is agency? What is predeterminism?

Agency in the traditional sense is the ability to be in control of one’s actions, the general belief that what human’s will to occur, or work to occur will generally happen if logically right (George Wilson, 2002). An example of this would be the decision to not eat soup on Tuesdays, as you do not will it to happen, and you have no desire to – you are in control of your actions. Aristotle in his Nicomachean Ethics (Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics III, WD Ross) places that our actions, regardless of upbringing or nature, is firmly under our control, and that any other placement of responsibility or supposed control of a person’s actions are “unvirtuous.” For many people, this control of our actions leads to a sense of moral responsibility, and furthermore allows people to be the masters of their futures.

Predetermination is the opposite to this notion of agency, in that it presupposes that your decisions are predetermined by some force that you have no control of. Traditionally this was thought to have been due to religious:“God works in mysterious ways” Or due to a spiritual beings, such as fate: “There is nothing which the Fates do not dispose… everything that comes to pass is controlled…” (Lucian Volume II, Harmaon AM, Cambridge). Overall the philosophy seems to stem out from the notion of causation being a logical, irrevocable march on from the prime mover, or original action of the universe heimarne “an ordering and series of causes, since it is cause linked to cause that produces a thing from itself, and this is an everlasting truth, flowing from all eternity… Hence it can be understood that we are talking about the fate not of superstition but of natural science, the eternal cause of things.”  (Cicero, On Divination 1, 125 126).

Simplified the above statement reads something like:
1. Causation is a logical outcome.
2. Events are caused by previously causation
3. Events can be determined by logic.

This notion when laid out in such a fashion seems to dictate that through being logical enough about an event, all actions past, present and future of that event will be understood. This all hinges upon the fact that events hold some sort of permanence quality, without an ability of chance/luck, but Cicero’s point if this permanence holds then all events, logically, should be able to be understood. For people this permanence of causation is the foundation of many sciences and mathematic, and also underpins our understanding of logic.

How does this link back to video games?

The link between these philosophical notions and the aforementioned games are as follows:

Agency

This idea of “controllable agency,” for computer games, is the driving force behind controlling/playing a character – your actions have meaning and are firmly within your control (Wardrip-Fruin, 2009, E. MacCallum-Stewart, 2007, Jim Bizzochi, 2012). In this idea of agency there are two different fields, gameplay agency and narrative agency.

Gameplay agency is the ability for players to interact with the elements of a game world and have it react back in regards to gameplay mechanics, e.g the player being able to move around in game, shoot, or interact in a way that affects the overall gameplay.

Narrative agency is the ability for players to interact with the narrative of the game world and have it react back in terms of setting, character development, or any over arching theme to the game, regarding narrative, e.g. the player is able to save a characters life, to do a good action instead of a bad one, to have their motives regarded by something in the game. (Sean Hamilton, 2007)

Most games will allow for the gameplay agency (so as to have some interaction with the player), but only optionally have the narrative agency. This narrative agency rarely is given fully to the player, instead a limited amount of narrative agency will be given, enough to sate the demands of the player to have control of a games narrative. Too much narrative agency can radically change the nature of a games story to the extent which the game designers are no longer the writers of the game, but rather it is the players. As such the narrative agency that the player is given is often considered to be illusionary compared to what games purposely offer.

Predetermination

This predetermination, for computer games, lies in the very code of games, leading to the construction of the world, the cause-effect flow of any action (moving, or doing a certain action in an area triggers an in-game result), the flow of the overall plot, the overall game – it dictates the scope of action in the game (Jim Bizzochi, 2012).   Games are predetermined in construction, and in the overall ability of players, but yet players seem to enjoy agency that is at odds with this – their actions aren’t free from the whims of the game designer (Rowan Tulloch, 2009, E. MacCallum-Stewart, 2007).

This is the same with a lot of traditional media, the plot construction of beginning, middle, and end is always predetermined, as it is defined by an author. The outcome is set from the end of production of the book, film or game, but yet we wish to experience these texts, dimly aware of the lack of agency we have, constantly being surprised by the twists and turns offered to us (Janet Murray, 1997). Furthermore we accept the predetermination of books and film without question, and ignore the lack of agency, while computer games are somehow granted this role of agency driven media, while the predetermination aspect is ignored.

Bibliography:



  • Bizzocchi, Jim, and Joshua Tanenbaum. "Mass Effect 2": A Case Study In The Design Of Game Narrative." Bulletin Of Science, Technology & Society 32.5 (2012): 393-404
  • Murray, Janet Horowitz. Hamlet On The Holodeck : The Future Of Narrative In Cyberspace / Janet H. Murray. n.p.: New York : Free Press, 1997., 1997.
  • Harmaon AM, Lucian Volume II. Cambridge, 1961. http://www.archive.org/stream/lucianha01luciuoft/lucianha01luciuoft_djvu.txt Tues. 14 May. 2013.
  • Ross, David. The nicomachean ethics. OUP Oxford, 2009.
  • Tulloch, Rowan. "A man chooses, a slave obeys: agency, interactivity and freedom in video gaming." Journal of Gaming & Virtual Worlds 2.1 (2010): 27-38.  
  •  Sharples, R. W. "Cicero: On Fate and Boethius: The Consolation of Philosophy IV. 5–7, V, edited with translation and commentary, Warminster: Aris & Philips.——(1996) Stoics, Epicureans, Sceptics: An Introduction to Hellenistic Philosophy." (1991).
  • Wardrip-Fruin, Noah, et al. "Agency reconsidered." Breaking New Ground: Innovation in Games, Play, Practice and Theory. Proceedings of DiGRA 2009 (2009).   
  • Wilson, George and Shpall, Samuel, "Action", The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Summer 2012 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/sum2012/entries/action  Tues. 14 May .2013.

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This is mainly working  as a preliminary piece to explain my conceptions of what narrative and agency are and how they play into each other. Stay tuned a discussion of the types of agency that are in play will be coming sometime this week.

-Dan

Sunday 30 June 2013

A sense of where I'm coming from

There's a game which helped me in this discussion of games as narrative, or just generally for why I enjoy games and that's Alpha Centauri (1999). Easily written off as simply a Civilisation clone, it incorporates some of the best dialogue and back-story that I've encountered from a turn based strategy.


Observe the Razorbeak as it tends so carefully to the fungal blooms; just the right bit from the yellow, then a swatch from the pink. Follow the Glow Mites as they gather and organize the fallen spores. What higher order guides their work? Mark my words: someone or something is managing the ecology of this planet. 
Lady Deirdre Skye, "Planet Dreams"

The story starts off on a fairly well trodden trope, the end of the world, a desperate last ditch effort of humanity to reach the stars, factional infighting, sabotage, and finally planet fall (this is where the player starts the game). It all seems relatively simple, yet for the power of the voice acting, the mini-series back-story which led up to the release of the game (still on the internet), and the utter alienness of the world you're drawn in, you care about your survival, your people, even your ideology.
https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSX27Tw2DIQth8kTcskoR6V3gXWGltu_Ljqvwf7ecIzXiCoAnEH

Resources exist to be consumed. And consumed they will be, if not by this generation then by some future. By what right does this forgotten future seek to deny us our birthright? None I say! Let us take what is ours, chew and eat our fill. 
CEO Nwabudike Morgan "The Ethics of Greed"

Players choose between 8 different factions - separated not by geography, but by ideology - and the benefits of each seem that of any other strategy game. A military bonus here, an economic one here, etc. But the factions, with their ideologies encompass entire philosophies throughout the game. Miriam, the fundamentalist, wary of technology and greed is downright militant when approached in the game, demanding technologies, for her survival and dominance in this new world. Her background of reasoned sensibilities makes sense though in the light of her former comrades abandonment of temperament in embracing new technologies.
https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ_y-IKPd-D6NnkimpRxL4AFAdMzGxTBoYQxeaImJAzs4cfqk2FVA

Already we have turned all of our critical industries, all of our material resources, over to these...things...these lumps of silver and paste we call nanorobots. And now we propose to teach them intelligence? What, pray tell, will we do when these little homunculi awaken one day announce that they have no further need for us? 
Sister Miriam Godwinson, "We must Dissent"

And it makes sense throughout, in diplomatic dealings, in the search for new technologies it all flows correctly towards this world that is Alpha Centauri. The AI in game accurately represents the characters that they depict, they make decisions that fall into line with the ideology - in terms of ludo-narrative divide, this game combines the two in a way that ties up the loose ends. Of course it can be argued that this game is intrinsically linear and what narrative does for the game is merely aesthetic - but underneath all of that critic there seems to be a failure to recognise that the aesthetic of story (if it can even be called that) contributes to the game in such a way that it makes it seem alive.

From the technology, the buildings, and even the random encounters with the planet's indigenous wildlife, snippets of narrative, both as text and voice acted, come through.

Some civilian workers got in among the research patients today and became so hysterical I felt compelled to have them nerve stapled. The consequence, of course, will be another public relations nightmare, but I was severely shaken by the extent of their revulsion towards a project so vital to our survival. 
CEO Nwabudike Morgan, The Personal Diaries

The above quote comes from building a research hospital, nothing else, a small snippet into the life of Nwabudike Morgan, and the colonists that he supervises - what are these research projects so vital to survival? What does nerve stapling pertain? And am I the one facilitating this? Mostly unanswerable questions, yet the brutality of the colonial life pervades through the game. You can sedate riots in your city with the aforementioned nerve stapling - an unknown procedure that appears to be similar to a lobotomy. No overdone questions of morality here, just the ruthless efficiency of survival on a hostile environment.

I could go on about the prevalence of philosophy and literature throughout the game with quotes from Machiavelli, Hume, Coleridge and Melville. Or rail on about the positive effects of voice acting on a game - provided that you have a strong enough team. Or, the fact that the technology and research provided in game was based on current scientific theories. I could go on and on about all these qualities individually, yet that's distracting from the main point that I'm trying to make about Alpha Centauri.

It's good, and you should play it.

Though before I go, I will say one more thing. A game like Alpha Centauri with its emphasis on literature, philosophy, science - all real world things - can and does promote an outward look at the world, instead of keepin the player focused solely on the game. If anything it tries to educate (in an entertaining way) people about issues and ideologies without cramming it down their throats.

Wednesday 19 June 2013

Hello World

Hi all,

I've started this blog to explore video games and writing for my final year thesis (thus the title). So for the most part this blog will be trying to niggle out some of the intricacies of that - whilst also hoping to be an ongoing endeavor exploring the narrative of games (which of course includes ludology, in the cases that it is present).

The thesis, for those that are interested is concerned with the role of writers in video games, and the impact that  player has on the narrative. And to be honest that question deserves a bit more  length than a thesis dissertation. There's just way too much. Especially for a relatively young medium, that changes definition all the time.

So I've tried to nail that down, with a focus on narrative games (games that are mostly driven by narrative) The Last Express, and Planescape: Torment. I've tried to focus the academic discussion on what's relevant (read ten year old narratology), and provide a context for it (the 90s, ludology, rise of personal computers and the internet, a back-story of interactive fiction, etc).

I think.... I think its working itself out. What's hard is not getting stuck up on the ludo-narrative dissonance argument,  the intricacies of narratology, or other non relevant issues. They're interesting just not pertinent.

But that's what this blog can be for the non relevant, not pertinent,  un-thesis, somewhat meaningful in it's own little world. That and anything else game writing related that takes my fancy.