The Last Of Us – Interactive Digital Narratives

Final Reflection

Throughout the semester, I found our unit on the portrayal of race and gender in videogames to be one of the most interesting topics we covered. In my previous exposure to videogames, I have always been more of a passive absorber of subliminal messages. I was never really aware of the problems with the decisions programmers make about race and gender until experiencing this unit. As such, many of my posts critiqued the portrayal of gender in the videogames I played, and I was extremely happy to see posts that did the same, or critiqued the portrayal of race in videogames.

I noticed that the majority of the games critiqued for their portrayals of race or gender by our class were big-budget, console games. Chris, points out the sexist lack of agency in the female characters of Skyrim, while Desmond points out the villainous and weak portrayal of Arab soldiers in Metal Gear Solid V. Sam critiques Grand Theft Auto for including the mechanic of easily obtaining a prostitute and sleeping with her, sexualizing the few female characters in an extremely successful game franchise.

I think that Sam really highlights the main question that everyone should be asking of the decision to sexualize females, give them no agency, or to portray race in certain ways: why include the mechanic? In a videogame the creators must code everything that happens, so no decision is made “just for the heck of it.” Even a game that attempts to break stereotypes like Paul claims The Walking Dead does still fall into racist assumptions.

I think that it is extremely important to engage with videogames so that we can learn the effects they have on society. Players must take note of the underlying assumptions found in games, so that they can then take note of the underlying sexist and racist assumptions that permeate our society. As Violet points out in her post, the assumption that only white, heterosexual males can make believably strong characters simply illustrates that society only values white heterosexual men.

The more people that notice this problem, the greater the chance will be that differences can be made. With my final project, I was inspired to make a game that works against these tropes thanks to my eyes being opened to them. As we teach people to draw attention to problems, we increase the chance that people will work to solve these problems. If we have more people inspired to engage with—and even make games that subvert—painful assumptions in videogames, we begin a path that can lead to society correcting these assumptions.

Game Log #11 (Reflection): Summing it All Up

Looking on back on the various topics I discussed in my Game Logs, I am actually surprised by the lack of constant themes that tie my logs together. I find it pretty impressive that the games I chose were able to spawn unique topics of conversation that did not overlap with each other, especially when considering the fact that one of my games was Ratchet and Clank (not exactly a work renowned for its intellectual musings). There are some notable similarities, however, between some of the topics I discuss in my posts and posts authored by other members of the class. While on a base level this is perhaps not the most earth-shattering revelation, given the fact that as a group we studied the same topics and read many of the same assignments, I do find it interesting the Game Logs of my classmates actually serve to support some of my arguments and suggest that my posts were not simply incoherent ramblings.

For instance, Patrick’s post on death in Infinity Blade III relates to the concept of death in games that I discuss in Game Log #10, specifically in how we both explore how games can use death as a mechanic that ultimately leads to the development of a player’s skill. While Patrick tends to focus more on how this mechanic assisted his immersion in the gameplay, we both come to similar conclusions that death does not always act as a simple punishment for the player. Instead, it can provide a player with greater knowledge, skill, and power that will assist their next attempt. Another one of Patrick’s posts discusses the definition of a casual game in a way that mirrors my thoughts in Game Log #5, in that we both played iPhone games that defied the simplistic tropes tied to most mobile experiences. Several posts also discuss race in a manner that reflects some of the discussion I attempt to carry out in Game Log #6. Sam’s mention of potentially unintentional racial undertones in the intro of Grand Theft Auto V and Desmond’s exploration of Arab representation in Metal Gear Solid V point to the sort of conclusions I make concerning the depiction of Lee’s character in The Walking Dead.

I found Violet’s take on The Last of Us to be particularly intriguing. While her analysis tends to center around feminist critique, it also shares some interesting parallels to the popularity of zombie media I discuss in Game Log #7. I argue throughout my post that the recent decline in zombie games and the continued popularity of The Walking Dead can be attributed to a lack of public interest in the same old shoot-em-up gameplay that has characterized zombie games for years. The personal, human issues discussed in The Walking Dead are at the forefront of its appeal, with the apocalypse setting eventually fading into the background. I found it interesting that Violet’s distain for The Last of Us’ inability to accomplish anything interesting with its protagonists’ relationship resulted in her calling the game “another tired hyper-masculine experience.”

I am satisfied with the similarities that cross between my posts and the posts of my peers, as they allow me to fill in the gaps where my Game Logs fail to speak to each other. If I had to find a significant similarity that exists between two of my blogs, however, I would have to point to the personal anecdotes I use in Game Log #3’s discussion of Bioshock’s music and the gameplay of Halo I mention in Game Log #10. In both of these instances I used memories of my old gaming days that I had not thought of in years in order to prove my points. In writing Game Logs about them, I was able to determine what it was about these memories that made them so special to me in the first place. This was certainly an educational and valuable experience, as I was able to greater contextualize the joy I felt playing Bioshock and Halo for the first time all those years ago.

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.

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?