Where Do You See Gaming Going? Part 3: Game Writing

Editor's note: As part of his ongoing series "Where Do You See Gaming Going?" Isaiah examines game writing — from actual storylines to implied narratives seen in games such as Left 4 Dead. Be sure to answer his questions at the end of the article. -Jason

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We have come a long way from Tetris. I remember trying to decipher the canned speech and scrolling story of Streets of Rage; it was a welcomed change to the yellow circle eating the blue ghosts. I can recall trying to make sense of the plot in NES's Rescue Embassy Mission and why it was important to avoid those meddling bullet-filled spotlights. I would like to think that with this history of writing in games, good writing was just as important then as it is now. Only "then" constituted a vastly different audience than the diverse demographic of the "now" we live in.

As with the evolution of graphics in video games, game storylines and plots appear to have entered their own uncanny valley. With every attempt to further immerse players in a world, the average and even the exceptional writing in games shows the many hurdles that have consistently shown this media in limited dimensions.

The funny thing about our current multifaceted gaming culture is that there is still a need for games that rely on their bare-bones components more than its story. We still need our Marios, our Street Fighters and of course our Tetris. These games emphasize what all games need to be at their core — fun. The concept of a game or any form of entertainment being "fun" doesn't necessarily mean you are erratically waving your arms around trying to get a pixel from one spot on the screen to the next. The concept of games being fun should be because they are engaging, challenging, and in some cases, simple. Aeris dying in Final Fantasy VII and losing Argo in Shadow of the Colossus are both moving points in those respective games. Some have cried at those moments. Thanks to a competent writing and development team, both of these games are still fun.  

 

I do take issue with games that do not know if the story will be "a part" of their lure or if the story functions "apart" from the overall experience of the game. Halo 3: ODST is a prime example of a game within a franchise — better yet, a game that exists within a genre that has had several issues determining how important the story is to the enjoyment of the overall game. 

 

ODST serves as further proof of how features like a multiplayer mode can "save a game." Developers treat games as four-course meals. If you don't like the salad, just wait for the desert. This isn't complaining; this is acknowledging what the "larger game" has become. 

 

In today's feature-heavy world, risk is scary. Few big budget titles only offer a single-player mode. When they do, they practically turn the game into an MMO. Sidequests and downloadable content, coupled with achievements within achievements, have helped evolve gaming but seem to be pulling us all away from the story.

A couple months back I read an interview in Edge where developers from the game studio Ninja Theory talked about how often storywriting conflicts with game development. This theory-turned-fact, that storytelling in games is more obstacle than necessity, was never made clearer than in the climax of the very games heralded for their artistic narratives. Our BioShocks, Uncharteds, and Batman: Arkham Asylums aren't capable of keeping us "fully entrenched" in their worlds without throwing an "impossible final boss" scenario at us. I accept this.

 

But when games throw us terrible endings — an ending so contrived and derivative it screams "how video gamey is the video game you're playing?" — the sore thumb eventually sticks out. It is nitpicky, and a multimillion-dollar game is going to have parts where the developer sacrifices cohesiveness for fun.