Desmond Niegowski – Interactive Digital Narratives

Closing FMS 321 Post

While my three games were all markedly different and therefore my blogs explored different themes and concepts in the posts, it was interesting to see people’s similar and opposing stances on common themes. For instance, both Violet and I played The Last of Us but had starkly different takes on the game. In one of her posts, she points to how The Last of Us promises to be different than other games, but in her opinion, it turns out to be a stereotypical, masculine narrative. I, on the other hand, believed that Ellie did indeed provide a change in the tropes of first person shooter zombie games. This disagreement gets at the reader-response theory that I thought was essential to understanding The Last of Us, and perhaps also applies to video games across the board. The topic of feminism arose in other posts, such as Sam’s on GTA, and while I did think and write about it in The Last of Us, perhaps my positive spin on feminine power within the game was a fault on my part.

In Paul’s final post on Ratchet and Clank, a game I have not played, he notes that the challenge of the game made him play the game more than the other two games he played. Personally, I am not that adept at video games (In fact, I know Paul is considerably better than I am). In The Room 2, a complex puzzle game I played, the game play is actually relatively easy, but the game is still very challenging. I experienced a similar phenomenon to Paul in that I played my mobile game the most. Perhaps that was because it was the most accessible, but it also piqued my brain the most out of the three games.

In relation to the theme of death, which I touched upon in my writing on Metal Gear Solid V, Patrick’s analysis of Infinity Blade III was interesting. Death in Metal Gear Solid V was not interesting in any way; yes, the playable character had woken up from a coma, but in terms of actual gameplay, dying is as it is in any video game. Hearing that there action-adventure video games that explain death rather than passing it over gives me hope for more innovative major video games. Perhaps interesting takes on video game death will not stay in indie games but enter main stream video games.

Arab Representation in Metal Gear Solid V

In Vit Sisler’s “Digital Arabs: Representation in Video Games,” he introduces what representations of Arabs exist in media and how video games can further the current narrative or change it in a fundamental manner. Sisler quotes Gonzalo Frasca, who writes, “Unlike narrative, simulations are a kaleidoscopic form of representation that can provide us with multiple and alternative points of view. By accepting this paradigm, players can realize that there are many possible ways to deal with their personal and social reality. Hopefully, this might lead to the development of a tolerant attitude that accepts multiplicity as the rule and not the exception.” Here, Frasca shows what video games, or simulations, can do differently than narrative. While playing Metal Gear Solid V, I wanted to see if these “multiple and alternative points of view” existed within the game.

I was playing a mission that took place in Kabul, Afghanistan, a prime location for stereotypical Arab representation. As your player moves into the base, the Arab soldiers you fight are faceless, shooting characters. The voice that speaks to you tells you that this is an insurgent base that needs to be taken. It is all incredibly stereotypical. Furthermore, you are fighting alone against possibly 40 or 50 enemies. This 1 on 40 mission is incredibly unrealistic. No actual army mission would take place under these circumstances. By making it so uneven, it empowers your player as invincible. If you do die, you come back as in most war video games and try again. But the fact that you can and are supposed to beat the mission without any aid delegitimizes the Arab soldiers.

As mentioned in the previous post, I wanted to see if Metal Gear Solid V presented political issues in a thoughtful way at any point in the game. This mission, which is what I spent most of my second time playing the game doing, did not do that in any way. In fact, it represented a political issue, the rise of terrorism from Middle Eastern countries, in an incredibly unthoughtful manner, furthering the common narratives around terrorism.

American Strength in Metal Gear Solid V

Metal Gear Solid V is the most stereotypical video game out of the video games I have been blogging about. It is a typical war, action-adventure game in line with games like Call of Duty and Battlefield. It is also by far the most political game I have played. When playing The Last of Us or The Room 2, it was easy to focus on what the game play and game mechanics did. In Metal Gear Solid V, it is hard to not think about the military’s role in our society, and specifically America’s role in foreign issues.

One of the missions places Venom Snake, the main playable character, in an African village where there is an oil refinery. Venom Snake must destroy the oil refinery, because the company that owns it is refusing to acknowledge that it is ruining the clean water supply in the area. An environmental NGO has hired Venom Snake to do this mission. Though this mission seems like the morally right stance, it is also revealed that destroying this refinery will help another corporation greatly.

This moral dilemma seems to be apt to situations the U.S. military or even the United Nations peace keeping forces often function in. In stopping one evil, they give opportunities for other evils to arise. Yet, simultaneously, because it is a stereotypical video game, you cannot stop play and think about whether to do the mission or not. Yes, you could quit the game, but there is not an option of choosing an alternative mission or doing the mission in a different way. But then again, that is not the goal of the developers of this game. They want to create an immersive war video game. Though they may include political issues in the game, the point is not to address them, but to include them to make the game more realistic.

I want to continue to explore the politics that Metal Gear Solid V addresses as I continue to play. Perhaps they will address it openly and provide different choices for the player. But if they do not, I want to investigate further what it means to present these geopolitical issues within a video game that does not allow much thought about the issues.

Techno-Nostalgia in The Room 2

Professor Sample commented on my previous post wondering whether The Room 2 was perhaps a comment on technology in our society since it utilizes a typewriter within the game. While the whole game is rather antiquated, featuring old, musty rooms with locked boxes, it is interesting that the developers chose to place the game in the past though the exact time changes as one proceeds through the game. Seemingly, The Room 2 could have used modern rooms, placing clues and keys within computers or even just modernizing the look of the rooms. Yet, the developers instead chose the complete opposite, making the rooms dark and filled with old photographs.

Simultaneously, however, technology, such as the typewriter or the laser system, was needed to beat the levels. This technology is also antiquated, but The Room 2 often feels like a mad scientist’s creation, fully equipped with levers, pulleys, and elaborate locks. The technology used to design the game is clearly high-end for a mobile puzzle game; the graphics are intricate and artistic and the overall feel of the game is incredibly convincing. But it also seems that the developers have a fascination with early modes of technology. They are more interested in how an old complicated locked box opens than the modern equivalent.

This contradiction, modern game developers focusing on old technology, makes the game fascinating. They apply our modern technological skills to make the brilliance of old technology come alive again. It is, as Professor Sample put it, techno-nostalgia. I think this techno-nostalgia makes the game much more appealing. It adds another layer to an already complex puzzle game, perhaps making the player think about technological advancements, but also the similarities between the game mechanics and the technology within the game. For instance, when a box opens with multiple inputs needed i.e. a key, a button, and a photo placed in the right position, the code written for that box to open had multiple inputs to create said box and make it function the way it does. The old technology is tied in with the new in a fascinating manner in the game, creating a nostalgia for old technology, but showing how modern technology can enhance our appreciation of that old technology.

Character (reader) response in The Last of Us

In David Mason’s “Video Games, Theater, and the Paradox of Fiction,” Mason writes “What seems to be different about video games is the active and direct participation the medium allows its audiences” (Mason, 113). Unlike a play, where an audience member observes and exists in the play’s world, a video game player can affect said world, making it theirs. Mason also argues that many art forms make the reader or viewer feel real emotions even when we know what is happening is fictional (Mason, 1110). Yet, in video games, because of our direct participation, that emotional response is heightened.

Keeping this heightened emotional response and reality in mind, The Last of Us’ power grows exponentially. Yes, the game is a first person shooter game where the player kills zombies. But, really, it is a game about surrogate fatherhood/daughterhood. The player gets to control both Ellie and Joel, building our “active and direct participation” in these characters. In an earlier post, I discussed “watching” The Last of Us, due to its cinematic qualities. While that reading still applies, it neglects Mason’s point about the larger emotional power of video games. We do not just watch Ellie and Joel; we are Ellie and Joel.

What meaning or character (reader) response comes out of this being? Well, the way one interprets a text, or video game, reveals his or her identity (Johns Hopkins Guide to Literary Theory and Criticism). For me, as a heterosexual male, I constantly felt more when playing as Joel. Though playing as Ellie provided a good second perspective on the game, emotionally I was much more invested in Joel and his constant desire to protect Ellie, which became my intense desire as well. Being Joel showed me this game was not about survival, but about connection. The game developers had to make the game exciting, i.e. getting to kill lots of zombies, but the game’s real power was building a relationship between Ellie and Joel that the player comes to care about.

Making Texts in The Room 2

As mentioned in the prior post, I want to investigate A.S. as a character within the game. In the 4th level of the game, entitled Seance, there are the usual riddle letters left by A.S. Throughout the previous 3 levels, the player learns that A.S. is involved with these various rooms in some way. He … Continue reading “Making Texts in The Room 2”

As mentioned in the prior post, I want to investigate A.S. as a character within the game. In the 4th level of the game, entitled Seance, there are the usual riddle letters left by A.S. Throughout the previous 3 levels, the player learns that A.S. is involved with these various rooms in some way. He knows informations about the rooms that help the player solve the puzzle and move on to the next level. But it is still unclear his exact relationship to these rooms.

In Seance, however, the player discovers what has happened to A.S. Seance, an apt title, ends with A.S.’s corpse in a chair at a table of tarot cards. In this level, the player must use a typewriter to type out words, which illicit an automated response from the typewriter. Though these clues are not signed, it is fair to assume that A.S. has set them up prior to his death, which the player is still unaware of. This call and response makes the player a text maker too. While the words, INFINITY, VOYAGE, and HOPE, are given to the player, he or she still has to manually input them into the typewriter, making the player an author as well.

This call and response shows the importance of A.S. within the game. If the words that came back on the typewriter were merely automated, the allure that A.S. embodies would be lost. During Seance, we are instead communicating with the dead A.S.’s message, a much more captivating puzzle to be solving.

Additionally, though we are given the words, we become a part of his story. We ignite what he has left us through the typewriter; we become a part of his story. Simultaneously, A.S. has managed to live on through the words he has left. Though probably not intended by the developers, they have touched upon the theme of what it means to die in the digital age. Of course, A.S. is not a real person, but just as his words live on within the game and give him some sort of afterlife, social media enables humans to “live on” in some sense. The Room 2 creating such grand meaning through a puzzle game shows the immense power that some video games, which seem “casual”at first, can create.

Immersion in a Casual Game: The Room Two

For the most part, casual games distract players from everyday life. They provide a break for someone: a little fun on a bathroom or coffee break. However, The Room Two is the first casual game that I have played which requires intense focus and attention rather than mindless swiping on a 4 inch screen. After finishing … Continue reading “Immersion in a Casual Game: The Room Two”

For the most part, casual games distract players from everyday life. They provide a break for someone: a little fun on a bathroom or coffee break. However, The Room Two is the first casual game that I have played which requires intense focus and attention rather than mindless swiping on a 4 inch screen.

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After finishing playing The Last of Us, I assumed that my casual game would require a different type of analysis when thinking about how the game functioned. While The Room 2 is a puzzle game that does not need a large screen or a captivating narrative, it does employ many functions that more immersive console games tend to employ. For instance, there is eerie music throughout gameplay, adding an element of suspense, as well as a character known as A.S..

Without this music, the game would function as a stereotypical puzzle game. The music, however, adds a narrative element that puzzle games do not normally have. Where is the music coming from? Is it part of the mise-en scene, as in is it actually playing in the various rooms, or is it something the developer added to increase the overall attractiveness of the game?

The Room also has text built into the game. These letters both provide clues and add narrative to the game. T chapter-1-intro-letter he author, only known as A.S., speaks to the player through these letters,
but there are also unsigned texts, which offer instructions to the player on how to
move through the levels. These texts implicate A.S. as the in-game auteur. A.S. leaves riddles to help and confuse the player, granting him narrative power. These riddle texts work in conjunction with the clues you can use, which come from the developers of the game, rather than A.S., the in-game auteur.

As I continue to play this game, I want to further explore A.S’s role in the game. Is he essential to the game play, adding components that enhance the game’s intrigue? Or is he merely fluff, who distracts from the puzzles the developers have created? Does a character within a puzzle game benefit or inhibit game play?

Broken Mimesis and Unlikely Fatherhood

As mentioned in the first post on The Last of Us, I am intrigued by the mimetic breaks within the game. These moments stop and continue gameplay simultaneously, allowing the player to learn but not necessarily play in the classical video game definition. As I continued to play the game, I realized that many of these breaks … Continue reading “Broken Mimesis and Unlikely Fatherhood”

As mentioned in the first post on The Last of Us, I am intrigued by the mimetic breaks within the game. These moments stop and continue gameplay simultaneously, allowing the player to learn but not necessarily play in the classical video game definition. As I continued to play the game, I realized that many of these breaks occur in moments of emotional intensity for the two main characters, Joel and Ellie.

In my opinion, these moments are tied to Joel’s unlikely fatherhood role in the game. The game’s prologue shows us his dark, fatherly past, that of losing a child. Everything after the prologue distances Joel from this past. On the surface of Joel’s new identity, he is the antithesis of a father. Placed in an apocalyptic world, he serves himself only: everything he does is an attempt to survive. His world has taught him to trust no one and to be self-reliant, not the marks of a stereotypical father figure. And yet, as tends to happen during the apocalypse, Joel is thrown into an entire new situation.

Once again, he must care for a young girl. She is not his biological daughter, but he must serve a paternal role to her. When mimesis breaks within gameplay for the first time between Joel and Ellie, the camera shows us her perspective looking up at Joel. While little is said between the two, this camera angle shift from Joel’s perspective to Ellie shows Joel as a powerful, essential figure in her game world. We see for one of the first times through Ellie; no longer are we in the perspective of strong, masculine Joel, but rather small, courageous Ellie.

Additionally, Ellie is the key to the game. You must get her to the Fireflies to win. You need Joel to do it, but she is essential to success in the game. Looking through her perspective, or breaking the mimetic flow of being Joel, forces us to feel while playing a video game. Just as the indie games we played in class cause thinking and questioning about real world issues, The Last of Us through these mimetic breaks causes empathy and emotions to enter a video game. You no longer don’t care about dying, even though you know you’ll return right back to the screen. Joel, and especially Ellie, have started to matter, because of broken mimesis.

When I play next, I want to keep in mind reader-response theory, because I think these empathetic, caring moments can tie directly into reader-response criticism. Just as texts affect readers and those reactions are legitimate responses, which can and should be analyzed, The Last of Us affects players differently than other video games. Those reactions are what’s special about the game compared to other zombie-apocalyptic games.

Watching the Last of Us

As the Last of Us begins, one does not play the game for a considerable period of time. We watch an apocalyptic tale unfold as a father loses his daughter, merely clicking a few buttons and running for a little. As a player, we are given time to settle into the world of the game rather than being thrown into challenging gameplay. Due to this viewing rather than playing, we begin to empathize with the various characters more so than controlling them. Joel is a faithful father and relentless survivor, not the back of someone’s body that we control and kill with.

Throughout the beginning of the game, there are poignant moments that allow the player to pause and reflect. For instance, when Joel and Tess reach the roofs of the buildings, the camera pans to a view of a modern city, which has been destroyed. The two characters reminisce on what used to be. As a player, one knows nothing of this previous world besides the night 20 years prior to the majority of the gameplay. Yet, due to this break in gameplay, we get an insight to that prior world.

Why does the The Last of Us make this choice and what impact does it have on the gameplay?

Firstly, it is a choice that most video games do not make. Games like Call of Duty and Halo only stop when the player pulls out into the menu or pauses. This choice therefore sets the game apart from other video games just by the fact this difference in relation to other games.

Secondly, when The Last of Us gives a panoramic view of the city, the game is still happening. While you aren’t clicking any buttons during these shots, you are gaining information and learning more about the characters. You are caring about the game more than you would if these shots did not occur during gameplay. Playing without clicking is a seemingly novel concept within games. This mode occurs in other places in the game when Joel does actions on his own without any input from the player.

As I continue to play this game, I want to further explore what these mimetic breaks mean for the game and the player. Does these breaks continue and evolve as the game continues or are they a tool used at the beginning of the game to introduce the player to Last of Us’s world?

The Implied of Portal

While playing Portal, I kept harkening back to the narratological concept of implied author and implied reader. This idea, developed by Wayne Booth, addresses who the author, or game designer, thinks of while creating his or her work and who the reader, or game player, imagines the creator of that work to be. In terms of … Continue reading “The Implied of Portal”

While playing Portal, I kept harkening back to the narratological concept of implied author and implied reader. This idea, developed by Wayne Booth, addresses who the author, or game designer, thinks of while creating his or her work and who the reader, or game player, imagines the creator of that work to be.

In terms of implied author, Portal gets messy quickly. As we play Portal, GLaDOS is our narrator, the voice structured and created by the auteur of said game. Yet, in some ways, she can be the implied author as well. The implied author is “the author-image evoked by a work,” allowing for subjectivity when determining this implied author; this figure can be different for different players. If Portal truly convinces a player of its world, its rules, its design, GLaDOS becomes the implied author. The narrator seamlessly melds with the image the player has of the game designer. This melding is the sign of a truly immersive, intense narrative experience.

Yet, most likely as players, we know that GLaDOS is a construct of the game. While within the game, she is “the author-image,” we tend to understand that someone created her. Then, our implied author image begins to morph. When we turn on the developer commentary, it gets even messier. This commentary claims to be the true authors of the text, not some idea we have of the author. But, we, as players, can never truly know the author even if they present themselves openly and honestly within the gameplay. Their commentary slants our view of them; each commentary is “perceived and evaluated differently by each reader.” While they attempt to be objective commentators on the game they have given us, these comments themselves changeand alter our view of them as auteurs, thereby making them into implied authors rather than authors.

In relation to implied reader, it is unclear who the game developers had in mind when designing Portal. In thinking about our class of diverse, implied readers, considering we have a wide array of video-game backgrounds, it seems that Portal tries to access as many implied readers as possible. Perhaps, they did not consider who would be playing the game, but rather focused their time on the game itself, hoping that it would have something for a first-time player and an experienced player.