We’re still playing with toys when it comes to video games.
Confession time. I was a G.I. Joe kid, growing up. Not the cartoons. God, no. Couldn’t care less about the whole “America, fuck yeah!” army propaganda. It was all about the toys, you know? Completely poseable hand-size dolls, that’s the thing. Perfect for staging intricate Dragon Ball-like fights, pitting bionic army men versus out-of-shape wrestlers, with the occasional teenage mutant ninja turtle thrown in the mix. All the while, ad-libbing dialogue with half-baked punchlines, from all the movies I wasn’t supposed to see (but nevertheless found their way into my VCR). Some of those toys (should I call them action figures, out of respect?) still exist, collecting dust inside a forgotten storage room. Tragically waiting for their master to return and give them meaning. There’s no Toy Story happy ending here, though. They’ll just rot away. But the truth is I didn’t outgrow my toys. I just started demanding more from them. The paper thin plot of an impromptu fight between Roadblock and Rocksteady just wouldn’t cut it any more.
I needed more than empty boredom killers. So I grew up and so did my toys. I even stopped calling them toys. Nowadays I refer to them as entertainment. Sometimes even art, when they manage to go beyond ludic. Because that’s the thing, you know? Toys are supposed to encourage growth, not stifle it.
This is a 50 plus year old medium whose artistic highpoints still involve rescuing damsels in distress and jumping over concrete blocks.
Except, none of this happened with video games. When it comes to games, we’re still playing with glorified G.I. Joes (even the word “game” has a childish undertone to it). The argument “video games as mere toys” isn’t just an empty slogan from gaming’s detractors. It’s a (possibly subconscious) reality among creators and players. Think about it. This is a 50-plus-year-old medium whose artistic highpoints still involve rescuing damsels in distress and jumping over concrete blocks. Let’s compare to Cinema, shall we? This not-so-distant cousin also started as a technological novelty, something to marvel at and then quickly forget. But by the time Cinema reached its fifties, Citizen Kane had come out and the French New Wave was on the horizon. Cinema was universally recognized as a storytelling medium and was starting to dabble in the world of arts. But while Cinema had Orson Welles and Fritz Lang, we have obese nerds and arrogant Japanese men in leather pants.
Even the critics who are supposed to shield and guide us are as old fashioned as the mechanics they review.
Video games have been rehashing the same mechanics and themes for the last 30 years, stuck in a sort of pre-teen limbo. This may be a consequence of the nostalgia-fueled society we live in (which is just a fancy way of promoting a return to childhood). We want to go back to our stupid but fun toys. And, sure, who doesn’t miss the inherent lack of responsibilities and freedom associated with childhood? But we were also dumb as fuck back then, and I, for one, don’t want to go back to that. Yet, enter any gaming chat room or multiplayer match and you’ll find yourself in a kid’s playground, with all the fake macho bravado and dick measuring. Try to start any real discussion on a forum and you’ll immediately be booed out as a party-pooper (when did fun become the enemy of evolution?). Developers and publishers create events that would be more at home in a wrestling arena than as product showcases. Console manufacturers impose restrictive measures to promote childish fanboyism. More and more we don’t buy products, but services that are solely dependent on our loyalty. It’s impossible to be objectively critical, when you’re constantly in a position where saying no to one thing means losing access to everything from a particular brand (I’m looking at you, Xbox One). Even the critics who are supposed to shield and guide us are as old fashioned as the mechanics they review. How many times have we heard the argument “good story, not so good gameplay”, and then watch the review score tumble down? While the opposite is accepted and praised in a matter-of-fact kind of way that drives me insane! There’s this ludicrous overvaluing of the “play” aspect of video games (another childish undertone), to the detriment of everything else. And yes, Remember Me’s mixed critical reception was an inspiration for my rant.
We’re not even creating new products anymore; we’re just feeding an addiction.
Like the children that we are, we crave the immediate reward. We’re not even creating new products anymore; we’re just feeding an addiction (which accounts for the crazy number of sequels that developers keep pumping out). There’s no time for horizontal growth because we keep moving laterally at an incessant pace. No time to breed and refocus our priorities. Even Citizen Kane only became Citizen Kane years after its conception. But this instant-pleasure society is too busy moving on to the next big thing (read: next sequel) to properly analyse what has been done before. We’re all responsible for the current state of gaming. But it’s hard to grow up when everyone around you still seems content to play with action figures.
Featured Image: clry2 via Flickr
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