New Review Posted: The Godfather

[Daniel Weissenberger]

Hias Wrba takes a look at The Godfather, and starts with some film trivia for the uninitiated:

"According to the ever popular Internet Movie Database The Godfather by Francis Ford Coppola is the best movie of all time—debatable I guess, but a very good movie nevertheless that spawned an entire sub-genre of epic Mafia dramas. It is the blueprint for all following tales of immigration and integration, the pursuit of happiness, morale and honour, filth and fury, us versus them, inside versus outside, the family versus the rest of the world. It shows us what happens when traditional values are confronted with a yet unknown, liberal society; that the urge to uphold these values can turn someone into a criminal. And most of all, it is the story of one man's decline (or rise, if you like) from an innocent bystander to a feared powermonger ruling his own with an iron fist."

From movie review to game review, all right here.

[Andrew Fletcher]

From review

It is not a downward spiral, a fatal, self- destructive journey into hell, but a plain old success story. For a videogame, that's usually enough.

Or perhaps necessary. How would one go about making a tragic videogame, since success is naturally the impetus behind gameplay? Is it merely a matter of framing the action in a tragic and non-heroic light with unfavorable situations and unpleasant goals (a la Manhunt or Silent Hill 2), or could gameplay itself ever be knowingly counter-productive in some way?

Consider Jesper Juul's hypothetical advertisement for a game based on Hamlet: "Your father has been murdered! With much effort, fail to avenge him and die a meaningless death!"

An unavoidable limitation on games as a narrative form..?

[GC_Hias]

Hi Andrew,

actually i think Shadow of Colossus did exactly that. i knew right from the start that sth. was wrong. That these colossi weren't the evil creatures I was told. But i kept going on anyway although i felt more and more sorry for them and insecure if it was justified to cause so much harm for pure selfish reasons.

best,
Hias

[Andrew Fletcher]

You're right Hias, Shadow Of The Colossus is a good example of a game in which the player is made to feel like they're acting out a doomed prophesy and does in that sense carry a tragic air.

However, I am suggesting that this tragic trajectory is a "framing" in the same way as my examples (Manhunt and Silent Hill 2) are; yes the narrative ultimately leads towards ruin and the PLAYER-CHARACTER motives are inauspicious, but everything the PLAYER does is, in essence, a positive step towards their goal.

Shadow Of The Colossus is a particularly good example of the distinction I'm trying to make, in that whilst the narrative has a tragic trajectory (little argument about this really, without getting into spoilers) the crux of the game's gameplay--namely, felling the giant colossi--does not feel tragic, but heroic. Dramatic, yes, but not negative.

Perhaps you could think of my distinction as being like the difference between cut-scenes, where the narrative takes over from the gameplay in order to "frame" it, and embedded narratives (like Half-Life) where the player experiences that narrative as a part of the game. We've seen the odd game with a tragic tale to tell or an unhappy ending, but has there ever been a game mechanic that exhibits these traits?

Could a game ever truly be downbeat in the act of playing it and by virtue of what the player is having to do? Is the medium simply too embedded in the notions of fun and entertainment to really offer gameplay that is not about achieving goals?

This is, I think, what makes an adaptation of something like The Godfather problematic; as soon as the player is introduced, it is assumed that they must have goals to achieve in order for gameplay to exist.

[Snack Eater]

I don't think Silent Hill 2 or Manhunt (both of which are brilliant works of art BTW) are just depressing and oppressive in their framing. Practically every goal except progress through the world ends with grief and anguish. For example, in Manhunt there's the level where your family has been kidnapped and you have to save them one by one. If you are spotted by a guard patrolling around one of them, they are shot in the head. Most games will make you start over if that happens, but Manhunt makes you deal with that loss on your own--which is why I'd always get myself killed so I can go back to save all of them. But then a level or two later, you find out that they were killed anyway. So either way, it didn't matter. The feeling of futility there and throughout the rest of the game is overpowering, and colors the entire experience, gameplay and "framing" alike.

The Godfather game just pisses me off. Way to bastardize a movie, EA. Coppola hates what you did to his movie, and that fat fuck directed Jack.

[Andrew Fletcher]

Originally Posted by Snack Eater

Practically every goal except progress through the world ends with grief and anguish.

But all the while you are achieving goals, succeeding, progressing, winning etc. You're just doing so through a tragic/twisted story. I call this framing, and am looking for a tragic game mechanic that accurately reflects real tragedy in that the player does not succeed.

One example might be a "going out in a blaze of glory" shoot-out scenario that the player cannot possibly win and will die during. (Presumably the final level )

I'm torn two ways by your very interesting Manhunt example:

I suppose what you are suggesting is that if the player can fail and thereby precipitate a tragic event, but continue playing, then they are being allowed to actively play a part in failure and tragedy and experience it as a part of the gameplay. You have a point.

However, in the section you describe, Cash is (unusually) playing the classic hero role: he must save his family before they are killed. This is the game objective. The fact that you can allow them to die by being too slow is indeed tragic, but it remains merely the failure state for the heroic/positive gameplay goal; a consequence, not the objective.

That the player can make it their own twisted objective to see the family murdered does not matter because there is no gameplay to support this--you are merely failing to achieve the set objective.

Nevertheless, in both examples, if failure is accepted or inevitable, then you could argue that this is not really gameplay as such because success is either irrelevant or impossible.

I love the discussed games for the way they skew the boundaries and question the goals we are aiming for, but there does seem to be an inherent contradiction between goal-based gameplay and negative goals.

Ooo! What about a game in which 2 important characters were put in peril and the player was only able to save one of them in the allotted time? One of the characters would have to die and the best the player could do is to save the other. This is still heroic gameplay because the player is trying to save one of the characters, but the tragedy is inevitable and concurrent (without actually hindering the player's progress).

[Boy]

Originally Posted by GC_Andrew

Ooo! What about a game in which 2 important characters were put in peril and the player was only able to save one of them in the allotted time? One of the characters would have to die and the best the player could do is to save the other. This is still heroic gameplay because the player is trying to save one of the characters, but the tragedy is inevitable and concurrent (without actually hindering the player's progress).

Granstream Saga on the PS1 did that, sort of. In the ending, the main character had to choose one of the female leads to save, and one to sacrifice to save the world. What's more, the hero is instructed to sacrifice the one he loves most. You have to choose one, and the ending is different depending on who you choose.

[shun]

Originally Posted by Boy

Granstream Saga on the PS1 did that, sort of. In the ending, the main character had to choose one of the female leads to save, and one to sacrifice to save the world. What's more, the hero is instructed to sacrifice the one he loves most. You have to choose one, and the ending is different depending on who you choose.

I remember that! And yes I loved that game. One of the more underappreciated RPG's of the previous generation. Great music, great story, great characters, great combat. Too bad it's a little too easy and the graphics isn't exactly the most logical. Remake, anyone?

Also, I have always preferred the pirate grrl.

[Sajon]

Originally Posted by GC_Andrew

From review
Or perhaps necessary. How would one go about making a tragic videogame, since success is naturally the impetus behind gameplay? Is it merely a matter of framing the action in a tragic and non-heroic light with unfavorable situations and unpleasant goals (a la Manhunt or Silent Hill 2), or could gameplay itself ever be knowingly counter-productive in some way?

Consider Jesper Juul's hypothetical advertisement for a game based on Hamlet: "Your father has been murdered! With much effort, fail to avenge him and die a meaningless death!"

An unavoidable limitation on games as a narrative form..?

Gah. :P

People citing Jesper's Hamlet example drives me nuts. A) Because it's something he said years ago and has heavily revised is view of videogames and narrative since, and B) because it never made sense to begin with. There are several unspoken assumptions in Jesper's (at the time) logic, one of them being that the only meaningful choice a player can ever be given is between success and failure.

Read Jesper's new book. He explains pretty quickly that things aren't as simple as he used to think they were.


-Matt

[Nicato]

Originally Posted by Snack Eater

For example, in Manhunt there's the level where your family has been kidnapped and you have to save them one by one. If you are spotted by a guard patrolling around one of them, they are shot in the head. Most games will make you start over if that happens, but Manhunt makes you deal with that loss on your own--which is why I'd always get myself killed so I can go back to save all of them.

I'm I the only one who sees the irony in this? If so then I'll elaborate: Though Manhunt, (a game which I have criticized but never played) according to Snake Eater, soliticits a feeling of loss on the part of the player when a family member is shot, that same empathy is apparently absent with the protagonist, which can be easily killed for such a trivial reason as an undesired outcome. This disconnect is a problem that games have been suffering from since their inception. Though Leon Kennedy (of Resident Evil fame) can be decapitated in many many ways, is there ever more than a brief moment when you actually mourn his death? You say Manhunt is a brilliant work of art, and that may be true, nevertheless, I say if games are to attain the high level of emotional investment held by their peers in other media then they best recitify this. How to go about that seems to be a mystery, though an interesting subject for debate (as illustrated by this thread).

The closest I've ever came to mourning a character's death was in Pikmin. When I would accidently drown a group of the critters, I would restart; even though they were all expendable on paper, in practice I couldn't help but become invested in them. However, Captain Olimar acts as more of an agent, so when/if he dies there are no such feelings. On the other hand, Olimar is completely useless without pikmin so though he may be a simple manifestation of the player, everyone knows who the real stars of the show are. I would be interested in seeing which side of the consequence/objective dichotomy GC_Andrew sees Pikmin.

(A rant: As a testament to how emotionally involved I was, I found that Pikmin 2 didn't do for me (in part) because I felt like the little guys were being exploited. Perhaps if another adventurer were stranded on the planet besides Olimar and co. the game wouldn't have lost it's charm. Unless there is some amount of interdependence in regards to the survival of the agent then all you have are a series of RTS-esque objective-based missions. Nintendo essentially traded in the core peril of the first game into core profit, as the motivation for Olimar's return is to use the pikmin as cheap labor.)

Good review, btw.

[EnduroGamer]

This disconnect is a problem that games have been suffering from since their inception. Though Leon Kennedy (of Resident Evil fame) can be decapitated in many many ways, is there ever more than a brief moment when you actually mourn his death? You say Manhunt is a brilliant work of art, and that may be true, nevertheless, I say if games are to attain the high level of emotional investment held by their peers in other media then they best recitify this. How to go about that seems to be a mystery, though an interesting subject for debate (as illustrated by this thread).

Very interesting point. I think, for me, a big part of the problem with this is that when the player-character dies, rather than feeling sad or mournful or, even guilty for letting him down (which is probably how I should feel) the immediate reaction is "oh shit, now I have to play through that area again". And the emotional response we should feel on behalf of the characters is interrupted by the frustration we feel as people looking to enjoy a game and move the story along. Not to say a death in a game is always a reason to get frustrated, but our own personal repercussions (having to reload, backtrack, etc.,) supercede the mournful regret the designers and storytellers would probably like to coax out of us.

[miscellaneous]

Nicato, you should write an editorial developing/exploring that very question, and submit it to the site. At the very least, it raises culturally and/or aesthetically relevant issues for public discourse, or as a matter of public record (irrespective of whether anyone can or will discuss them with you).


If you want, I'll proof read what you write and make suggestions, etc. It would be nice to see the site critically discuss issues that aren't self valorizing.

I wouldn't mention, though, that you criticise games that you haven't played - that just makes you look like a dickhead talking out of your arse.

[Andrew Fletcher]

Originally Posted by Sajon

Read Jesper's new book. He explains pretty quickly that things aren't as simple as he used to think they were.

The Hamlet quote was actually taken from half-real (p161 in my edition), and is not discredited by the author from what I see.

Incidentally, just because I'm picking a quote doesn't mean I believe everything the man says to be bulletproof, although I actually like Juul's willingness to revise his own opinions. What did you think of half-real?

Also, could you explain what you mean when you say that this quote doesn't make any sense?

[Andrew Fletcher]

Re: Nicato's post

It's a very good point and I think EnduroGamer is right to say that our instincts as a player quickly supersede our feelings of empathy for the character. It's hard to see how this can be easily solved. Whether trivial due to quick saves or frustrating because of widely-spaced save points and game difficulty, the player reactions are felt strongest and one is tempted to suggest that games would be better off avoiding death as an outcome (yeah right!) if they want to remain emotionally involving and coherent.

But personally, I think losing is such an integral part of the grammar of gaming (from way back before videogames) that perhaps we need not feel a gut-wrenching pang of emotion upon our player-character dying. Since interactive stories are not finite, linear series of events, do we need to feel the same dramatic sense of loss as cinema or literature can evoke when a main character dies?

Dying and getting caught are game elements that denote a failure state, which is itself unique to gaming. If a writer wants to tell a story that delivers a powerful blow to the audience when the main avatar dies, then perhaps they shouldn't tell it through a game in which the player is liable to die dozens, possibly hundreds, of times.

I don't necessarily think this is a sign of gaming's inferiority to other storytelling medium's, nor does it denote less emotional attachment. If I get beaten up and captured while playing as Ryo in Shenmue, then I am automatically taken back to before I failed to try again, which is disappointing for me as a player, but it doesn't weaken my connection with his entire story. Unfortunately, there are times when gaming and traditional storytelling collide and the result is messy--for instance, upon dying for the 10th time on a carefully orchestrated and crescendoing denouement there is obviously a real rupture in the player's connection with the game, narrative and character.

So do we want to change game designs to fit conventional storytelling traits, or change the kinds of stories we tell through games?

Interestingly, commonly cited examples of poignant deaths are often associated with non-playable or minor characters, e.g. Yorda, Pikmin, Aeris. In the case of Aeris, this is no surprise because the event occurs during a cinematic cut-scene and, as in cinema, it is assumed that the death is final and non-retractable. But more generally, perhaps we have become so accustomed to the flimsy mortality of our main avatars that it is the other characters in the world that we feel a duty to keep safe, since they are more intimately associated with the narrative world (Yorda is an ethereal spirit trapped in the castle, whereas the boy is me) or do not immediately seem bound by the same save-load security blanket that we are (Pikmin die, Olimar re-loads).

[miscellaneous]

So, Andrew why don't *you* write an editorial on the nature and extent of our emotional identification with videogame 'characters'?

Go on, I dare you.