The State of Play: An Industry Dead on Arrival
As appreciators of art–with all of the technological advances available–we truly live in interesting times. It goes without saying, art itself has had a particularly fascinating development, and manifests in many ways. Music, literature, film, and the endless variety of visual modes of expression are all available at our disposal in order to convey fathomless pits of ideas still yet to be found. However, there are even newer avenues for these expressions, one where all can combine to be something complete–a Gesamtkunstwerk of the former varied mediums–but with the added element of intractability. By this I call to question video games, an artform that, unfortunately, I believe for many reasons has been squandered as a serious medium.
Initially, a potential argument against my assessment of games as this complete art comes from their reputation. They remain unsavory, commercial, and juvenile, similar to products for children that should probably be placed adjacent to board game isles or the toy section. But this does not have to be the case! Be it the Kafkian horror of the early Silent Hill series, or the endlessly rewarding literary chops of sprawling interactive novels such as Disco Elysium or Kentucky Route Zero, it is apparent, with some discernment, that with the right creative team, true lasting experiences can be made. Unfortunately, I must admit, the dearth of true masterpieces is discouraging, but this is not the fault of the medium, this is the fault of a culture, the conceptual limitations of genrefied developers, and the overwhelming time, effort, and costs for what could be an engrossing interactive art experience required to reach fruition.
It cannot be ignored that there is a necessary investment for engaging in video games, be it a commitment to one of the larger console brands, or, more costly, the need for ever changing parts in a PC or similar capable computer. Unlike other arts, maybe other than photography or filmmaking, the investment and knowledge, considering games are perhaps the most multidisciplinary creative projects within commercial spheres, leaves creatives interested in said medium stuck in a daunting decades long project, not to mention the many problems that arise from ambition and attempts at new boundaries during development. This commitment, and requirement for commercial viability, be it a humbly priced independent project, or a blockbuster hundred person team crafting some digital world, makes the investment a more serious risk and so is less smiled upon. This results in most games having the main gameplay element be violent, guns, swords, military, fantasy, or visual elements typical of nerd hobbies or derivative of dungeons and dragons. Genre is key. When the medium is marketed as toys, then the buyer, the player, wants to know exactly what they are purchasing. Surprise is less appreciated, and anything truly innovative or ineffable within a game experience, is lost in translation to the player.
Institutions may also be to blame for the narrow scope of games. Typical of larger universities, courses, and degree tracks for video game development have grown more popular, but they offer no more than introductory to more detailed guidance on the coding and design of games and their combined elements. This situation, which defines the making of games as purely video game development, limits a creative’s vocabulary. A dialogue amongst the newer intricate, maybe even avant-garde elements of game development, in conjunction with other established mediums of the past, visual arts, cinema, music, etc. is muddied. If all that is taught amongst game developers is how to make games like the ones they have played, then there is an insular development, one that takes less influence from outside the medium and thus grows stale. For example, these days, the narrative complexities of games borrow mostly from similar age bracket pastimes–ones that through equal cultural significance have managed to overlap into the gaming sphere–such as comic book films or episodic anime. This pop formula for inspiration, and more importantly commercial reliability, renders narrative portions of games, as potentially predictable, unexciting, secondary to the flashier visuals and immediately apparent tech advances that truly sell the player concerning the product, and the graphical fidelity is not relieving either. An emphasis on photo realism seems to be another fixation that the industry and the consumer loves to use as benchmarks of technological progress, one that sacrifices vision or style for cold hard performance numbers and polygon count.
Lastly, there is no standard, no archival sanctity amongst larger developers and industry heads. To them, most of all past works serve as lucrative intellectual property rather than timeless accomplishments. This brings a similarity to the blockbuster film industry, but a cynicism with further repercussions. Remakes–and in many cases more sinister remasters–put an exciting label on an old classic, one with a team’s vision and intention behind the very many decisions and attempts to strip down elements into what was “core” to the experience. Developers who handle these revisionings mention so often that they faithfully study and handle originals with care, but that is so rarely the case. A blatant disregard for the artistic intentions and outcomes is the most typical result. Graphical modernizations that aim to erase a stylistic era of design or technique are all too common. Some games feel “old” to a contemporary audience so are reworked from the ground up to have the experience become described by vague boardroom terms like “smooth,” “fluid,” “responsive,” when in fact, so many examples are never the case. Modernizations and updates are the inherent issue. It is a lack of respect for a rationale of design that came to be because of the hardware limitations of the time. Limitations can inspire innovations, and to disregard these historical developments by ignoring this character of the work proves beyond disrespectful. Without a vocabulary to grasp on to, some history or narrative for a burgeoning new art form, a quality of innovation and vision withers into pap, some spreadsheet pool of buzzwords and flavor of the month products.
This has happened all before. Oversaturation of the market in the Atari home system years of the seventies brought a deluge of copycat products, all similar, all expensive, and all a fad. This time however, this burgeoning young medium has so much more potential. With an established design language already developed, it should be obvious that innovations could be blossoming from a multitude of directions. But, at least in the commercial sphere, video games as an art could not be any more rigid. After Atari–it took a handful of years–Nintendo launched their entertainment system to reinvent the field. They indeed changed the game, but now they rest on their laurels and churn out the familiar, their tried and true Marios and Zeldas, toy products ad nauseum. I am rather pessimistic about the state of the industry, very much indeed. Perhaps another crash is necessary. Perhaps we start anew. Or maybe there is hope in the avant-garde of the devoted underground independent creatives. My complaints stand, and as with anything only time will tell.