Showing posts with label genre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label genre. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

EXP Podcast #416: Dark Souls and Genre Defining Games

"Have you met my sister Quelaag?"
This week we are inspired by a Waypoint article arguing that Nioh proves that Dark Souls has created a genre. If so, what does that genre include and what should we call it? Does it bring any value to games to classify genres like this? These are important questions, but not half as important as this one: What ever happened to the Bro-Shooter?

Thanks for listening and feel free to reach out with your genre defining games!

- Here's the show's stand-alone feed
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by clicking here, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format, or click play below.





Show Notes:

- Runtime: 35 mins 24 sec
- "'Nioh' Suggests That 'Dark Souls' Actually Invented a New Genre,' by Patrick Klepek via Waypoint
- Music by Brad Sucks

Thursday, July 25, 2013

Good Sci-Fi in 'The Swapper'

Image from PopMatters
This week at PopMatters, I talk about one of the best games I've played all year: The Swapper.

I tend to agree with Dan Teasdale's recent thoughts on the overabundance of sci-fi in video games, but I think The Swapper shows just how useful the genre can be when it's used for more than simple set dressing. There's no doubt that instant-cloning and swapping consciousnesses are squarely in the realm of fantasy, but The Swapper grounds them with just enough seriousness that they can be used as tools. The result is a game that is a great exploration of morality and individuality. These sci-fi tropes also make for some excellent puzzles.

One thing I didn't get a chance to touch on the article was the game's art style. It actually reminds me of stop-motion animation: things are textured photorealistically, but the proportions and even the items themselves are stylized and fantastical. The shuttle pod looks like a tin can and some of the environments seem like they could be made of cardboard (in a good way). All these materials and shapes offer just enough familiarity to be recognizable but also unnerving. There's just something "off" about the way things feel. Where LittleBigPlanet used the same techniques to effect warmth and playfulness, The Swapper uses them to transmit uncertainty and alienness.

The Swapper doesn't take dozens of hours or require elaborate set pieces to get its point across. Combat is nonexistent, yet the game is both challenging and suspenseful. It puts sci-fi themes to excellent narrative and systematic uses, which shows that perhaps the misuse, rather than overuse, of genre conventions is the actual problem with the gaming landscape. After all, if all sci-fi themed games were as thoughtful as The Swapper, I don't think we'd have much to complain about.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

EXP Podcast #129: The Search for Sci-fi

Two weeks ago, I wrote about the state of Science Fiction in modern video games. It turns out a mere smattering of words is not enough to thoroughly explore the veritable galaxy of topics regarding this ripe genre. Joined this week by Grayson Davis of Beeps & Boops, Scott and I discuss the good and bad of science fiction, a bit of Star Trek, time travel, and sources of excellent Sci-fi gaming. As always, we encourage you to leave your thoughts in the comments section below.

Discussion starters:

- What are your favorite science fiction games?
- How should we approach the genre as it relates specifically to games?
- How do you see the state of modern science fiction games?

To listen to the podcast:

- Subscribe to the EXP Podcast via iTunes here. Additionally, here is the stand-alone feed.
- Listen to the podcast in your browser by left-clicking here. Or, right-click and select "save as link" to download the show in MP3 format.
- Subscribe to this podcast and EXP's written content with the RSS link on the right.

Show notes:

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

The Sci-Fi Blues

Along with my collection of “normal” books about urban malaise, medical practitioners, and feuding families, a hefty portion of my yearly reading list includes science-fiction and fantasy novels. Many of these works approach the subject with a scalpel, selecting the strangest and most revealing aspects of the genre to both confound and surprise the reader. The best works of any genre understand the contributions of predecessors and contribute to a conversation between work; they play with expectations and surprise readers. Sci-fi in particular is rife with astounding literary works taking an array of approaches to the genre. Why, then, does the sci-fi genre of videogames seem so mute? Why is the future so predictable in games?

Ask my co-writer Scott why Star Trek is such an influential television program some time. He will tell you how the show’s creators tackled nearly every element of science fiction possible, wrangling the concepts to their will and influencing a generation of sci-fi writers onwards. The utility of genre in the first place (and here I refer to thematic conceptions of game genres that I furiously espouse), lies not just in its suite of common elements, but in its ability to foment a conversation across time, between both creators and consumers. Sci-fi games, however, tend to collect the genre’s cliche’s without contributing to an ongoing discussion across art forms.

Mass Effect, for example, is a space opera, and an amazingly successful one at that. I absolutely adore this franchise. Yet while it adds a great deal to the games industry, it adds little to the sci-fi genre. The “bad guys” are scary-looking aliens who can raise the dead, and a rag-tag crew of humans and aliens, unsupported by the galactic council, must defeat them. To be fair, the game’s minor quests play with the genre more than the main story arch, but even these tend to be homages to past sci-fi works, not contributions to an ongoing conversation.

Dead Space, although predominantly a horror game, also fails to defy or play with sci-genre expectations. The dangers of interstellar mining operations have been thoroughly explored (all the tentacled zombies that will arise from their depths have done so). Yet the game’s protagonist is named Isaac Clarke, an allusion to Arthur C. Clarke and Isaac Asimov, two masters of hard sci-fi. Where are the explorations of fate and control of Foundation? Where are the enigmas of Rendezvous with Rama? Like Isaac in the first Dead Space, the games are mute.

Braid, of course, stands as a genre success, incorporating time travel with the sensations hope, loss, and regret. Achron manages to work time travel into strategy games as well, incorporating paradoxes into the mix. Yet these games are not indicative of the whole, and I do not think sci-fi is the only genre suffering. Are fantasy games that much better off? Do they engage with the history of fantasy fiction? Have games rightly abandoned genre conversations or are we languishing in the doldrums of genre isolation?

Monday, February 8, 2010

In Pursuit of Adolescent Genres

My appreciation and interest in Children's Literature was recently piqued by an article titled Juvenile and Adolescent Games by David Carlton of Malvasia Bianca. Sparked by his interest in MySims Agents, a admittedly "childish" game, David reexamines, among other things, the idea of juvenile games as they relate the literary genre. I highly recommend reading the very interesting original piece. As expected, defining and analyzing what makes a juvenile game is no easy task. Anything from Zelda to Bioshock can, in some ways, be considered adolescent. What follows is my own attempt to explore the genre of adolescent videogames.

To begin with, I want to abandon the term 'juvenile' as a genre title. Firstly, it carries too many negative connotations. Secondly, it abandons the existing genres of "children's literature" and "young adult fiction". I understand the idea of categorizing works of art is itself contentious. In a series on modernizing genre, I discussed this conflict extensively. To quickly summarize, I believe current videogame genres are largely useless. Genre itself is still useful however. Genres offer exploratory maps that foster cycles of interpretation, design, and analysis. This creates a valuable conversation across time between consumers and creators. With the use of mechanically descriptive sub-genres, videogames should embrace thematic genre classifications.

That being said, categorizing a 'young adult' game is particularly challenging. As David points out, books are similarly difficult to encapsulate with easily understood monikers. The Harry Potter books, for example, are more intellectually rigorous than many airport-available mystery novels. Likewise, while The Cement Garden features young protagonists, it is most certainly not a children's Novel. David states:

"So, while I can come up with ways to tell that a books isn’t juvenile literature (because of the style of language, because of sex, because of certain other topics), I found it surprisingly difficult to come up with a positive and non-banal description of what it means for a book to be juvenile literature. And that carries over to video games as well."

Videogames are burdened with another barrier to simple classification - gameplay. A children's book may be judged poorly if it includes excessively esoteric vocabulary or inappropriately adult themes. A narrative driven game built for children can also be criticized for including unnecessarily difficult or complex gameplay. This is not to say exactly how difficult a game should be, but these concerns should be taken into account while judging young adult and children's games.
There is no easy way to know what makes an adolescent videogame - which is part of the fun. Genres are not well defined outlines. A genre is a commonly recognized suite of thematic and structural decisions shaped by the creator's intentions. A skilled auteur may toy with conventions, including and abandoning them as she sees fit, responding to and building upon a genre, while commenting on society and culture along the way. As such, for some analysis, it may be useful to divorce game mechanics from narrative themes.

The mechanics of a children's game should be appropriate for its target audience. A younger audience may not have the educational or gaming experience to easily interpret and implement complex mechanics. Similar to literary reading levels, this does not preclude adult enjoyment. A game may have many mechanical layers, satisfying a young and old audience at the same time. Alternatively, simply mechanics can be implemented in robust ways by an older gaming audience, giving them complexity without confusing the younger players.

Similar to literature, young adult and children's games should share common thematic elements. We should see literary conventions repeat themselves within their videogame genre counterparts. As David points out, many kids books include young protagonists, often coming of age or having an adventure free of familial relationships. Again, this need not be the case. These are merely several, albeit very common, elements from a suite of options. Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH is a notable literary exception from the young protagonist trope. It is a children's novel with an adult protagonist and themes of parenting. It does, however, use many genre conventions to its benefit. Children's games can achieve this same diversity while safely building upon an existing body of work.
The thematic elements of one genre can absolutely bleed into another. I have discussed the 'lack of family' trope in videogames once before. Similarly, the 'coming of age' tale shares storytelling characteristics with the common game structures that gradually empower players. So, while I agree with David that Bioshock has similar genre characteristics, its adult themes and mechanics firmly separate it from the young adult genre.

Zelda, on the other hand, is certainly a young adult game. I'm in agreement with David when he says "they're about boys growing up (literally, in the case of Ocarina), forced to be men a little earlier than they’d like to, but rising to the occasion, finding out who they really are, finding unexpected depths inside themselves." Zelda informs other young adult games, and can be analyzed alongside other young adult novels like A Wizard of Earthsea and Sabriel.
Accordingly, we can analyze and critique games with their genre in mind. Lucidity, for example, is thematically a perfect children's game. It's mechanics, however, are far too punishing for success amongst the appropriate demographic. Final Fantasy VIII is an excellent young adult story with a great deal to say about family, friends, school, and growing up. Like J.M. Barrie's novelization of Peter Pan however, some of the more adult themes may be inappropriate for younger audiences.

Genre boundaries are porous, videogame genres even more so. The relative age of the medium is such that no broad repertoire of masterful children's and young adult works exist. While there are plenty of childish games out there, few are considered classics. Children's games as they exist now, including MySims Agents, are largely discredited. Children's literature has overcome some of these prejudices and the videogame medium must do the same. Game's like Little King's Story, seek to break the mold, entertain multiple age groups, and contribute to a larger cultural conversation about growing up and the lessons that come with age. With genre in mind, games and games criticism only improve.