Wednesday, April 11, 2012

What's In a Game?

(This is the introduction to an ongoing series of articles concerning the question of the what qualities we look for in video games and whether those qualities, when found in games, actually make them good and worth playing. These are the closest things I will ever do in this column to reviews.)

Remember when I said that I was going to write about the games in the Humble Indie Bundle that I had downloaded a few months ago? Of course you do, because you are a faithful and loyal reader, and I love you very much. Well I have made it through a couple of them so far (I know it's taking me a while but give me a break. I'm busy) and I have come to somewhat of a realization. Some of these indie games aren't actually games at all. And if they aren't games, then what about the games I play on my consoles? Are they games?Based on this massive existential quandary in which I am now finding myself, I have been inspired to go through the games I am playing and the games I will play to determine if they do indeed count as video games.

To clarify, here is what I believe a video game to be: obviously there are certain technical criteria that must be met. As the very term implies, video games should be visual. There must be some kind of graphical representation of the events that take place. One notable example where this is not the case is the Xbox Live Indie game In the Pit which removes graphics from the equation completely and forces the player to navigate the world using only his or her sense of hearing. It was an interesting experience to try and solve the puzzles that way but to call it a video game would be equivalent to referring to a radio drama as a movie.

Another aspect that a video game requires to be considered a video game is a player. We play video games. The conduit through which we do it might change; it might be a physical interface device like a mouse and keyboard or a console controller or it might be a non physical, highly sophisticated technology that measures your body's presence within a three-dimensional space. But whatever the means there is a person or people who have a certain degree of control over the events within the game. Otherwise you are merely watching events unfold. There is a sub-debate about whether gamers actually have any agency in video games and to what degree games are actually interactive, but the point is that nothing happens in a video game without the player instigating it. Every art form requires that initial investment of interest by the audience. You need to press the play button for a movie, you need to start reading a book, and you need to stand in front of a painting and look at it. The difference between all of those media and video games is that in gaming the audience/player is required to perform actions to keep the game moving along. If you let a movie continue to play, or close a book, or walk away from a painting, each work will still exist and continue to tell its story on its own with no input. If you stop playing a game, the game does not go on. At best, one could say that the game's AI will carry on its duties, but once the character in the game dies, the "game over" screen comes up and it never gets to conclude. Games need active participants.

Now this is where things get a little hazy. Video games must give the player something to aim for and a reason to do so. This is a weird, abstract concept that I, even after some twenty-odd years of playing video games do not fully grasp. It might come in the form of a cheap, phoned-in narrative story, it might be the quest to fully level up an RPG character, or it might be the chase for the top slot on the high scores list. Whatever it is, it is all tied into each game's particular systems. Look at some of the games from the earliest consoles. Know one cares about the story behind Mega Man. That's not why people play it. People play it for the challenge of going after some difficult enemies and bosses. They play it because there is a level of pride and satisfaction they achieve by upgrading their skills and weapons and a further sense of awe when they see how big the explosions they can create are. Go back even further to something like Asteroids. Asteroids is a brilliant and perfectly legitimate video game. Yet there is no story behind it. There are no characters. The graphics are rudimentary at best and there is barely any sound. The systems are simple, but at the same time compelling. Shoot things and avoid getting hit by them.

All of these qualities are required for crafting a game. There are certain recipes that can be followed as well, and developers who do not create good recipes will not create good games. There are different recipes that use the same ingredients that cook delicious and unique dishes, just as there are different ways to combine visuals, player agency, and systems/purpose to create delicious and unique games. Bearing all that in mind, in future posts, I will be embarking upon a quest analyzing the elements of various games. If that is indeed what they can be called.

Until next time, happy gaming.

Monday, April 9, 2012

Let's Talk About Shep, Baby: Part 1

This has been a long time coming. A long time for me to complete two plays-through of Mass Effect 2 and a long time to get my thoughts organized and put into words. And now that Mass Effect 3 has been recently released I am counting on a partial relevance factor to provide an interesting piece.

I got the idea to write an analysis of the gender differences in Mass Effect when I first fired the game up. In the best of circumstances, games that offer a binary choice from the very start have two different experiences to offer. One thing that has been on my mind ever since I was made to choose what gender I wanted my commander Shepherd to be was that if I played the game only once, I would be playing only half of the game. Knowing ahead of time also that I would be venturing down either the paragon or renegade pathway, I was curious to see how those choices would reflect on Shepard's gender and vice versa. What I found was that gender and morality were integral to the mood of the story and to my reception of the overall gameplay experience.

When I played through the game the first time, I chose to play as a man because it was the simpler choice for me to make. I have no problem with playing as a woman in a video game (unlike certain groups of childish buffoons), but choosing to be John Shepard was almost a reflex. I was about to get caught up in a sweeping space opera and I wanted to feel like I was the one on the front lines fighting for humanity's freedom. At a certain level that's what games are all about. There are some obvious exceptions, and of course this gets into the age old debate of whether violent games are actually murder simulators which instruct the players on how to commit acts of violence in the real world. But if I am seeking a certain level of agency in a game, I want as few steps as possible between taking myself out of reality and vesting myself in a character. Playing as a man removes one of those steps, whereas playing as a woman makes me feel less like I am the hero, and more like I am watching a woman carry out extraordinarily heroic actions (my feelings on this have subsequently been altered which I will expound upon later). It is easier for me to think that I am the one inside the game saving the galaxy if I share as many traits with the character as I can. This is also why I chose to perform all of the paragon actions and dialogue options. It feels more appropriate to me to do good deeds and to use conversation skills in order to get people on my side rather than coercing or even threatening others into agreeing with me. It's what I would do if I were actually Commander Shepard, so it's what I'll do when I am virtually Commander Shepard.

I'm Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite pair of cargo shorts on the Citadel.

The male Shepard, when played as a paragon, carries with him a sense of strength and courage without bravado or machismo. He is a selfless warrior, doing his duty not because he seeks the glory nor because he is an adrenaline junkie like the renegade Shepard might be. He does the things he does because he feels that it is to the benefit of everyone involved whether it might not seem as such to someone in particular. Paragon John has a utilitarian sense of morality whereby his actions should effect the greatest net pleasure for everyone involved, while minimizing pain.

In contrast, the renegade male Shepard does things out of a sense of paranoia or because it will benefit him and his team and their cause. His morality is almost based on a Rand- or Locke-esque perspective. Everyone is responsible for themselves and their own well being and Shepard should do everything he can to increase his odds of winning. Both of these angles are illustrated by several instances throughout the series. In Mass Effect 2, for example, you come across someone in the back alley slums of Omega who is injured and dying and you are given the opportunity to give him first aid. In my run as Paragon John I healed him, and apart from the benefit I received in the form of XP and "good side" points, the feeling I got was that I was a benevolent and charismatic leader who was working to improve life throughout the galaxy. From the lowliest thug in the streets to the safety of entire species, I have been tasked with saving everyone's lives. In addition, it made me, as a player, a little warmer and fuzzier inside. I knew that it wouldn't improve my chances with any of my teammates romantically, so that wasn't my motivation, nor was I expecting any money or items from the poor, dying soul. The only thing I knew for sure I would get from the interaction was a boost to my paragon rating. And at its core, that is what altruism is all about. We do good things because they make us feel good. And it is a quality which we look for in our male leaders.

If the renegade male had gone along with his prescribed path and ignored the dying man's plea for aid, he would have come across as cold and heartless which then would have brought about the question of whether he is motivated to carry out his mission for the right reasons, and whether he would be the right man to lead the way. This creates a weird paradoxical state for the believability of the story. Even if you suspend your disbelief enough to accept the whole faster-than-light space travel scenario, the fact that all these alien species speak English (a common staple of absurd science fiction rules), and the notion that the Asari, an all-female species which theoretically should have evolved on their own planet over the course of millennia, are able to mate and reproduce with any gender of any other species in the galaxy and give birth only to Asari offspring, you still have to wonder if either the paragon or renegade John would have been Cerberus' first choice to head up the mission. I know that either way he's super bad ass and physically tough enough to do it, but consider this: Renegade John plays by his own rules. Although the choices you make as a renegade in Mass Effect 2 hinge around helping Cerberus, he does not kowtow to authority, and he is not afraid of the punishment he might be in for if he pursues his own agenda over his orders. He knows that Cerberus is depending upon him (why else would they have expended so many resources to bring him back from the dead?) and that he has the job whatever his mode of behavior. If Renegade John wants to pick up some floozy at Afterlife or blow off some sexual steam with one of his crew members, he will, regardless of what regulations stipulate.


The worst form of reprimanding he will ever suffer will be a slap on the wrist and a stern talking-to from The Illusive Man. Cerberus wouldn't dream of cutting off Renegade John's resources or supplies, because he can justify it all as necessary for the war effort, which is their mutual goal. The Illusive Man doesn't seem like the kind of person who doesn't like having his employees under his thumb. Renegade John is too much of a managerial liability.

In contrast, Paragon John, though he is not the kind of person to fully submit to authority, does not agree with Cerberus' and The Illusive Man's agenda. His first priority is the protection of the galaxy. He wants safety and order to return but not necessarily at any cost. He does not care about Cerberus's goals, and similarly to Renegade John, he uses his position as the most powerful warrior in the galaxy as leverage to get The Illusive Man to keep providing funds and supplies despite the fact that they both have vastly different personal motivations. If Cerberus were hiring for a job and Paragon John was interviewing, I don't think The Illusive Man would have even thought to call him back after his answer to the question, "So, why do you want to work for Cerberus?" And when it comes to romance, frankly I would imagine him trying to avoid it in the workplace. When given the option of choosing to romance with either Ashley or Liara, I actually chose neither.


I chose what I believed to be the path that would lead to the fewest complications and the highest focus amongst my team. In Mass Effect 2 my romance path was guided partially by the conversation options that I felt would come across as the least harsh, as I did not want to come across as a dick. I picture Paragon John as pragmatic yet endearing. But because he does not share Cerberus' ideology and values, I do not think of him as The Illusive Man's employee of the month.

I actually think that Paragon John's qualities make him the best man for the job. His traits lend themselves well to being a good and effective leader. Renegade John might make for a leader but maybe not for a good or effective one. Renegade John is susceptible to his own senses of greed and selfishness which could get in the way of successfully competing the mission. Paragon John is focused on his mission, which is ultimately the safety of everyone in the galaxy, and all of his actions are geared toward that end. That includes everything from his side missions to the way he interacts with his crew members and even total strangers. Alternatively, Renegade John is an asshole. It comes as no surprise to me given that many of the men that I have known to follow a sort of "renegade" mentality have also been assholes, and they almost always make for poor leaders.

I think that the choices I made were perfectly suited for each other during my first run through of Mass Effect 2, and it is my opinion that to play through as Renegade John would make for both an unfeasible and unenjoyable experience. We have yet to see how the morality system affects and is affected by the female gender, though. Stay tuned for more discussion on this topic.

Until next time, happy gaming.