I've not done much formal writing on games for some time. It's strange though, because a good chunk of my time is spent pondering the difference between story and narrative, or conjuring up ways that mechanics can tell a story. I've only scribbled ideas on a .txt pad for the past 24 months, and now, I want to unleash those ideas to the world. I want you--yeah, YOU you silly non-gamer--to tell me what you think. It will help us both grow.
Know first that this blog was started in a writing class with the intent to carry it over to the real world of blogging in the future. Now is that (all too late) future, but realize that it still reeks of assignments that I have yet to exterminate. Yuck. (I jest, Mr. Feagin, as I have you to thank for starting this blog in the first place!)
I've decided that the blog will be updated weekly: at least every late Sunday night with a sort of opinion piece, sprinkled with small thoughts, findings, and other tidbits from the world and the wide web.
In celebration of this event, I will provide the last big paper that I am quite proud of. As of this point in time, I've had no feedback on it. Some of it is pretty old news in game studies, but there are ideas that I've enlightened myself to come back to. I wrote it for my Intro to Interactive Entertainment class during my freshman year at USC, and it clocks in at a whopping 8.5 pages! Be jealous, graduate students. Be very jealous.
Where We Are: Player Inscription in Games
By Bryant Cannon
Gaming culture today in is generally about escapism. To escape the stresses of our everyday lives, we enter a more exciting, vibrant world by playing a game. We embody a character as literally as possible, simulating ourselves in the game world. The buzz-word qualifier describing a quality interactive experience tends to be “immersive:” something that requires all attention and mimics reality with a 1:1 correlation. Conversely, many games still insist on abstracting the experience in some way, separating the player from the character he or she controls. These games have been criticized often, though, for their linearity and lack of “choice.” This issue is primarily present in discussing role-playing games, in which the player is meant to physically and socially play the role of a character.
But rather than look at it in terms of what is “immersive” or “not immersive,” we should find a different angle, instead focusing on the aesthetic principles of “implementing” the player into the game world in different ways. This idea references a classic paradox in game design: if a game is trying to tell a story, how can the main character have personality that fits into the game world when a player has control over it? In truth, games must therefore have a very different approach to telling a story than, say, film, even though film remains a primary source for inspiration in recent games.
Perceiving the Roots
In fact, the easiest way to see the different modes of player inscription is as an offshoot of film’s formal element we call “point of view.” In film theory, point of view (POV) is characterized by what the audience is able to see and when; by how the scope of characters being filmed is limited to certain fields. The categories of POV are mostly restricted to a first-person perspective and a third-person perspective, with both having a few sub-categories.
A literal use of first-person perspective in film is relatively seldom. Here, the camera is placed in the position of a characters head, as if we were actually seeing through his or her eyes. More frequently, we see a film narrated by a character that may or may not be seen in the frame. This is considered “first-person outside,” as the character we see from is “outside” of the story, typically telling a story or recalling an event from his or her past. Third-person perspectives, on the other hand, are found in the vast majority of films. In such, the characters are separate from the camera’s perspective, so the camera can take a more objective view of the story at hand. Third-person can then be heavily deconstructed into sub-categories. First, there is omniscient vs. limited perspective. Where an omniscient view is open to following any character anywhere at anytime, a limited view only allows a certain character to be followed. Second, the third-person view can be either primarily objective or various shades more subjective. An objective view takes little formal effort to change a portrayal of the story, merely recording reality for the viewer’s interpretation, while a subjective view does just the opposite.
Being Who?
Though we can adopt a piece of this model for role-playing games, its application is a bit different. Rather than point of view being a matter of perspective, we might say it’s a matter of inscription. The “point of view,” then, is where the player is in relation to the game fiction or game character. So on one hand, we have first-person inscription. This is when the game attempts to create an in-game version of the player, or avatar, that the player uses to interact with the world. Often, this character is created by the player. In The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, the player begins by design this avatar, and then goes to adventure in the world. In addition to that, there are no cutscenes nor any instance of the player losing control of his or her character. With this, the player has a unique since of agency in the world, and forms a new story all on his or her own.
We might also say that RPG’s have a version of first-person, outside inscription. Simulation or “god” games, or even some strategy RPG’s, put the player in a position that directly effects the parts of the game, even though the character they play as may not be clearly articulated. A game like Black & White puts the character in the shoes of a god, and gives the ability to manipulate the objects and characters as he or she feels fit. The god has little to no recognition from the characters, but he—being the main character—acts on the game from OUTSIDE of the story.
In stark contrast, a third-person inscription puts the player in the control of another character. The character’s ego is nearly complete, and it is up to the player to perform linear tasks that are usually action-oriented. Final Fantasy X, for example, has a completely functioning story with little malleability for the player to experience. In order to progress the story, the player needs to move through the different areas of the game world in a chronological order and complete battles, which are generally story-unrelated. The player is merely guiding the character through the story, acting as the “hand of fate,” determining the success or failure of each battle. We can go a step further to say that Final Fantasy X also inscribes the player as an omniscient entity, as throughout the game, the player is given control of up to 7 different characters simultaneously, and occasionally control is given to two smaller parties who are physically separated from one another. These choices engage the player in a full exploration of the game world from a variety of viewpoints, or inscriptions of themselves, but it does not necessarily “immerse” the player in a one-to-one correlation with real-world interactions.
One discrepancy to note, of course, is that, while related to the concept of emergent or progressive rules in a video game, inscription has implications beyond this. A recent illustration is Valve Games’ shooter Half Life 2. The game puts the player clearly in the shoes of Gordon Freeman, and is void of any cutscenes that remove the player from the action: the game is told purely through the use of game engine scripts. Therefore, the game inscribes the player in first-person. But a more in-depth look sees that the game is almost purely linear, and is a true game of progression, as “reaching the end” and “beating the game” are the clear goals. Thus, this lack of “choices” or branching story events does not remove the game from first-person. Neither should we confuse inscription with perspective. Perspective does—as in Half Life 2—establish the inscription as first-person, the terms are not synonymous. In most MMORPG’s such as World of Warcraft, the primary viewpoint is outside of and behind the character, though the experience is clearly first-person. The character is customizable, and, by the very definition of an MMORPG, the character embodies the player in every way, especially within the chat log.
Applying Our Perspectives
So, in general, player inscription can be seen on a scale between two different extremes: that of mimicking reality for the player and that of abstracting the implementation in some way in order to allow the same story to recur during each play through. The general trend of the day is to associate full immersion with the mark of a quality and innovative game. Many believe that predefined roles in games, such as the one found in Final Fantasy X, “violate one’s sense of self and detract from the gaming experience” (Smith). At the same time, most of the Final Fantasy games—including the tenth installment—are critically acclaimed all over the world. There must be significance to this, but what is the use of having a third-person inscription in a game if it doesn’t fully immerse one into the experience?
First, there is hardly ever a game that squarely fits in one of these categories. Usually, certain specific choices are made to obtain a certain unique inscription. A prime example is Nintendo’s The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker. The player is given mostly third-person control over the character. The character (collectively known as Link) has a somewhat extensive pre-determined background; he has lived with his grandmother and his sister on Outset Island, until his sister is captured embarking him on a quest to rescue her. Initially, we might say we are inscribed in the third person, seeing the character from the outside and merely guiding him through the required progressions of the game. On the contrary, two aspects of the character lead to question this assumption. First, the character’s only “spoken” dialogue (aside from his various grunts and screams during combat) is user-entered answers to in-game questions. Second, the character’s name—though called by the name “Link” on many occasions outside of the game—is user-defined at the start of a new game. Thus, the game puts us in a position much closer to the psyche of the character, and gives us a sense of the character being an incarnation of ourselves; we get to customize him to our personal liking. All the same, we never “become” this character, as we do in a game like Oblivion. Since the makeup of the character and the actions available in the game world are relatively static, we should still classify this type of inscription as a kind of player-authored third-person experience. The player is not using the character as an implementation of his or herself, but rather is assisting in the authoring of that character in the game space.
A similar but contrasting instance of inscription is the recent FPS-RPG from 2K Games called Bioshock. Just the same as Link, and though there exists little exposition revealing this to us initially, our character Jack is a pre-determined persona with a written history. It is true we are playing as a different, fictional person, but that does not keep the piece from inscribing the player in the first-person. Rather than ever using cut scene to tell the story, every event is revealed in the game engine and is open to the responses of the player. We are essentially put in the shoes of another person. The game then uses this to its advantage. Our motive to complete the story lies in being reunited with our family: a history detail that actually has the potential to influence our actions in the game. But when, midway through the game, we find that Jack’s memory was altered, our only next motive is to kill Frank Fontaine. In addition, the player is forced at points to either harvest the ADAM (powerful substance needed in-game) from creatures called Little Sisters, thereby killing them, or rescuing them and receiving only small traces of ADAM. These moments utilize the player’s emotions and incorporate it into how the game is played, therefore allowing us to experience the game from the first-person.
Which is better?
So what does a third-person inscription do for us that a first-person inscription can’t? First, the common misconception about inscription is, again, that first-person inscription—or realistic “immersion”—results in a generally better experience. We generally see role-playing games as a way to literally “play a role” in a world by implementing ourselves in the first person through a usually customizable avatar.
In order to see past this, we must see games as having distinct purposes as interactive experiences. The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion looks to create a world and let the player live freely inside of it. In order to tell a story, the game uses a dynamic story that is never the same twice (though bits and pieces are static). In order to accomplish this, full control of the character is given to the player, along with the utmost customization: a first-person inscription. The game rules become the manipulation of the plot. To be more succinct, we might say that Oblivion intends to create story without using a plot, allowing depth and breadth to the world.
On the other hand, Final Fantasy X and many games similar to it have recently been criticized for their frequent cutscenes and lack of malleability to both the story and world. Though this may be true, we need to look within the bounds of what the game does do. Final Fantasy X has a static story, but what is there to criticize about that? Square-Enix—the developer of the game—has a history of masterful storytelling. The purpose of the game was not to allow the player to determine the story, or allow them an avatar, or a first-person position in the game. Rather, the game uses a third-person omniscient inscription to tell the story from a bit of a distance, keep the story constant, but still have control over all characters at once. The game is, first and foremost, a story, rather than an interactive playground in another world. Some may say that a work like this would be easily transferred to a movie format, and that it has no business being a game. On the contrary, the interactive aspects of the game are integral. Though the game is linear and non-malleable, allows it to be experienced at a variable rate, and with different levels of detail. Though a plot point—such as Tidus’ blitzball game near the beginning of the story—may be close, the player is allowed to advance to the next part at his or her choice. Interactivity also allows for the specific manipulation of fate for the characters. Obtaining a stronger sword in the game, for example, allows the player to guide the characters through the story with fewer struggles.
Conclusion
Ultimately, the “good” or “bad” of different inscriptions comes down to how the game is a work of art in and of itself. We must see the game as having its own purpose and not discriminate between methods of doing such. That said, inscription is an extremely integral part of crafting an interactive experience. Looking at inscription as a strategically aesthetic choice will allow us to understand how the game accomplishes the seducing and hypnotization of its players, along with any other more sophisticated effects an interactive game might have in our digitized 21st century.
Works Cited:
Smith, Harvey. Character Representation in Computer Games: The Case for ditching the Back Story. Nov 1999.
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