Moving to the Next Passage

When a new art medium is formed, it is a historical trend for it to draw from the previous popular medium; movies were influenced by photography, just as games are now influenced by cinema. When a new medium peaks in terms of what it can borrow and learn from its parent medium, the new medium will start to develop its own unique traits. At their relatively young age, games continue to mature as an entertainment medium. They are closing in on how long they will need to borrow from cinema. If games wants to fully distance themselves from derived narrative structures and progress into its own golden age, games have to further realize the medium’s potential.

Even from the earliest days of Electronic Arts and Trip Hawkins, game developers have strived to create interactive experiences that could make people cry. It’s a valiant goal that aims to enrich the possibilities of video games on an emotional level. 

“Stop trying to imitate cinema and start utilizing the most basic aspect of games”

Unfortunately, the approach commonly taken by popular games is to rely on cutscenes. Titles like Heavy Rain and Metal Gear Solid are classic examples of games that are able to invoke emotion, but at the same time they are also two of the most cutscene filled games to have been released. Too many games use the cutscene crutch to hobble their way through their epic narrative. Storytelling in video games needs to stop imitating cinema and start utilizing the most basic aspect of games: interactivity. 

Games as an art form have the unique trait of being able to create meaning through the player’s participation. An emergent meaning is the differentiating factor between games and movies. The marriage of gameplay and narrative needs to be ubiquitous in the future of games before the medium can reach it’s golden age.

Indie games are currently at the front of discovering how to get games to this point. Arguably the most important game that aims to forward the progress of game narrative is Jason Roherer’s Passage. This short five minute experience provides no formal narrative structure, but instead relies only on its simple mechanics to create meaning. The player starts as a nameless character in an open world and scores points by traveling to the right of the screen and finding treasures along the way. Early in the adventure, the player may find another character to be their partner to travel side-by-side with. The married movement doubles the amount of points scored for traveling right, but also makes it impossible for the couple to reach certain treasures that are between one-character wide gaps. As the game continues, the characters show signs of aging with gray hairs and slower movement. The game’s most powerful moment comes in the form of death, when the player’s partner passes away and is replaced with a tombstone. Players then have to make the decision to either travel further past the tombstone to score a few more points or to spend their last few seconds by the grave waiting for their own death.

The experience of playing Passage resonates long after the player dies. Within its 5 minute span, Passage can provide an emotionally profound view of life, mortality and marriage. The game uses rudimentary systems inherent in all games to serve as the catalysts for the game’s narrative. There are no cutscenes needed to convey the game’s messages, because the use of the games’ basic mechanics creates the messages. Passage cannot be translated into a book or movie, the game’s meanings can only be gotten by playing it.

It’s time for games to take their final steps away from cinema. The path has already been laid out. Passage, created by one man with no budget, is a boiled down example of what the medium is capable of. Bigger triple-A titles need to break the mold of relying on movies to hold any emotional value. The golden age of games requires masterpieces that manage to be meaningful because they can only be games.

A Lesson in Intrinsic Motivation

Creating motivation is an necessity that all video games require to be effective interactive experiences. Being the one entertainment medium that depends on user choice, games must ensure that users have incentive to confront the game’s challenges. Games can go about this in two ways:

1. Extrinsic Motivation
   Rewarding successful gameplay with collectible accolades

2. Intrinsic Motivation
   Causing the user to form their own motivations for completing the task

Each form has its merits, but intrinsic motivation should be considered the better of the two being that it is the stronger motivator and an efficient result of design.

Half-Life 2 campaign at launch was an example of a game that succeeded in creating intrinsic motivation. With no unlocks upon completion or additional benefits for restarting, HL2 managed to be a game that I found myself coming back to many times.

Intrinsic Motivation Defined

There are a few differing theories on why intrinsic motivation works. Some theorists believe that intrinsic motivation is fueled by the pursuit to enhance the perception of self. Others theorize intrinsically motivating activities are purely engaged in for the enjoyment that accompanies them. Although there are many theories, the common base idea is that intrinsic motivation is driven by positive emotion. Catharsis, self-improvement, and the yearn for acceptance all serve as powerful motivators that are inherent to humans and require no extra inducement. HL2 creates intrinsic motivation through several means.

Challenge as Motivation

Challenge plays two roles in the process of motivation: it is something users must be motivated to accomplish, and paradoxically it is also something that creates motivation itself. The presence of  realistic goals or seemingly accomplish-able tasks increases a user’s motivation to attempt challenges. HL2 and other games with good design all employ processes that create realistic goals. When players are presented with the “Gravity Gun” in the game, players are set in a safe and open learning environment that allows them to practice with the new tool. This provides the player time to understand the metrics of the weapon: its effective range, rate of fire, and visual feedback states. The learning environment comes with a variety of low-difficulty tasks to build up the player’s skill and confidence with the Gravity Gun. Immediately following up this crash course is “Ravenholm”, a level where the Gravity Gun becomes essential for the player’s survival. Failure in “Ravenholm” is severely punished by death, but because the player has built up their self esteem beforehand, these tasks are not overwhelming. Players are best motivated when they are faced with an optimal level of difficulty.

Recognition as Motivation

HL2 employs more blatant forms of motivation through the use of its NPCs. Whenever the player meets up with the supporting cast of characters, the main character receives verbal recognition of notoriety or fame. When the player accomplishes a task, nearby NPC’s will display visible or audible recognition. The cause-and-effect relationship between the completion of a task and praise received creates the positive emotion of satisfaction.

Fantasy as Motivation

Immersion plays a strong role in creating intrinsic motivation for imaginative players. If players can imagine their actions taking place in a real-life setting, the fantasy and conducive motivations become intrinsic. HL2 is set in a world that is very similar to the real world, providing a strong basis for believability. When the player receives affection from other characters, immersed players receive those positive emotions as well. If the player believes in the story and the universe, the goals of the character and the player become aligned and the player inherits the character’s motivations.

Control as Motivation

Control is the one unique feature that games have as an entertainment medium; it is also one of the strongest factors that promote intrinsic motivation. Whether it’s for single-player or multiplayer, HL2 creates clear cause-and-effect relationships between the player’s actions and the game world’s reactions. Player agency, the player’s belief that his/her actions have profound effects, creates reason and motivation for action.

Another conclusion that can be drawn is that the player’s feeling of control also creates a sense of responsibility to use that control. Control as a form of motivation can be expanded upon by varying actions. Players feel greater agency when they believe their specific actions provide results different from other players’ results.

Ludo-Therapy: Showing Trust

When Roger Ebert wrote about how “Video games can never be art”, gamers quickly took to social media to defend that their beloved medium. Gamers brought up how titles like Bioshock and Limbo could hold deep meaning. It’s clear that people are beginning to view our young interactive medium with more respect than anyone would have thought capable 10-15 years ago, but have games earned their new found respect?

A few days ago, a great editorial was posted on PC Gamer describing the safety precautions and "child-proofing" found in modern mainstream games. The article delved into how games were seemingly catered to the lowest common denominator as a result of immature gamer behavior. It stated that gamers and developers are "locked in a destructive cycle of dickification"; where developers act like a dick by restricting controls and gamers rebel by just acting like bigger dicks. It’s crass theory, but it’s arguably correct in defining our relationship and its negative effects. The caveats and boundaries placed in today's games may strengthen the narrative structure and progression pace, but it also displays a lack of trust in the player.

For a medium that has issues being associated with toys, it's surprising how patronizing some of the games are made to be. Notifications in modern games display the simplest of information that even monkeys could keep track of. Rewards are handed out for small menial tasks. Jesse Schell's gamified vision of everyday life is taking shape within the games of today.

Games that trust and respect their players are not impossible to find. One AAA game that I didn’t expect to display trust in their player is 2008’s Prince of Persia. This game was heavily criticized pre-release when it was revealed that the main character could not “die” in the game. Some gamers became livid at this approach to player death because it was seen as removing challenge from the game. While seeming to have another way to baby players, Prince of Persia showed a degree of player trust by simply removing of a button prompt.

In the game, the Prince and Elika must free the land of corruption through the use of Elika’s magic. The player (Prince) has to get Elika to a fertile land tile and press the Elika button to trigger a pretty cutscene of the land being brought to back to life. The first time you encounter a fertile land tile, the game displays a button prompt telling you which button to press. In the later hours of the game, this button prompt is removed.

The subtle disappearance of the button prompt conveys a transfer of responsibility. It's acknowledgement that the player made progress and learned the action for the context sensitive situation. On the opposite end of the spectrum are games like Call of Duty: Black Ops, which will prompt you to press "X" to reload every time you are nearing the end of your magazine.

Games need to start matching the respect we give them, as well as the maturity we expect from them. If games want to be appreciated by the general public like other mediums of entertainment, they must undergo the same scrutiny. Movies are criticized for being too blatant in their storytelling; it's only fair that games are criticized for being condescending in their gameplay.

How and Why You Die in Video Games

Depending on the genre of game you’re playing, how you perceive an AI enemy can differ a lot. The Player-Enemy Relationship Diagram places player-enemy relationships into three categories.

Hate

Hate, often referred to as a “strong word”, is perfect for defining the relationship that players have with the enemies that fit into this category. We have all experienced that moment when we were slain by an enemy resulting in a smashed controller or the exclamation of a curse. The level of emotion that a “Hateable” enemy provokes is reliant on the player’s endurance and their immersion into the game, but these hateable enemies do share characteristics.

1. Unexpected Difficulty Spike
   One of the most obvious traits is the extreme offset in difficulty. In an easy-to-manageable level, the introduction of a tough boss-type monster can make the player feel unskilled and frustrated. After a player's conditioning is broken, every moment/death needed to recalibrate contributes to rage.

2. Omni-present
   Some games will make you feel like your a fish a in a barrel. No matter how many different angles you approach a fight, you'll end up with a similar fail state over and over again. An enemy that seems omni-present chips away at a player’s patience to the point where same mistakes are repeated.

3. Cathartic Relief
   Video games are the only entertainment medium that can make you feel accomplished. It’s a cathartic feeling when a player destroys an enemy that had become the virtual embodiment of their unhappiness. That sough after “Yes! I did it!” moment in a game is suppled by those enemies you hate.

Play

Playful enemies are incompetent at their fictional jobs. They are like stormtroopers or henchmen, in that they have the innate inability of being worthy opposition. The only time this category of enemy should manage to defeat the player is when the player disrespects their player-enemy relationship bounds and plays foolishly.

1. Poor Planning
   An encounter with this type of enemy can range from fair to unfair (for them). This is usually accomplished by giving them tactics that just don’t seem to make sense. Some examples of this are rappelling in while in plain sight of the player and deciding to storm the player AFTER they secured the turret. These strategies are immersion-breakingly stupid, but player enjoyment is put above all else for these enemies.

2. Flawed
   A playful enemy is designed to have moments of human imperfection. He/she will drop a grenade by accident or shoot the explosive barrel that is placed right next to them. It's an emergent display of ineptitude that signals to the player that a deadly fight is actually filled with levity.

3. Sportsmanlike
   Sportsmanship is least expected in a fictional fight, but it is a defining quality of a playful enemy. These enemies have a special set of rules of engagement that ensure the player's enjoyment. The star of the game is the player, and they are to be treated as so. If the player is behind cover; do not simply run past it. If the player is running, miss more often. The price of an enjoyable play experience is often the effectiveness of an enemy.

Defend

With the emergence of the zombie sub-genre in games, the “defend” category is quickly getting populated. The enemies that fit this category simply react to the player. Narratively speaking, these enemies are the ones being antagonized by the player. It is almost inaccurate to define these AI as enemies, but either way they still have a relationship with the player that follows a set of guidelines.

1. Provokable
   These enemies only technically becomes an opposing force when the player triggers them to do so. They are provoked into attack and the player must defend themselves against this newly formed enemy.

2. Numbers
   Because these enemies are not proactive in defeating the player, they can be grouped in enormous numbers. Their size makes them a threat more so than their ability. 

3. Obstructive
   This is a “Defend” enemy's defining characteristic, they are time sinks. These enemies are literally just in the way. It is beneficial to avoid these enemies entirely, which is the base of their player-enemy relationship.