This is not a post about Too Human being characteristically disappointing or surprisingly enjoyable. This also has nothing to do with Dennis Dyack's infamy among the gaming elite. In reality, the point I'm trying to make in this blog regards video games in general; Too Human is just the example I'm trying to use to illustrate. This is also a wall of text.

Video game storytelling is incredibly derivative. I don't mean that the stories are cliche, though they often are. I'm referring to the fact that as a medium video games inherit their storytelling from other mediums. The cutscene was ripped from the film. Games like Fallout use descriptive text that echoes literature. We even see comic-book style storytelling mimicked in games like Metal Gear Solid: Portable Ops and the upcoming Infamous. Each of these methods provides a wholly acceptable type of exposition.

Where video gaming does not excel is in its own storytelling identity. When not evoking another medium, video games often seem to grasp at straws. We've certainly seen leaps in the last few years as developers try to integrate gameplay and storytelling in new ways. Half Life 2 provided one of the first great steps by keeping the camera entirely in control of the player at all times. Bioshock took this further be using the removal of that control in a critical moment to full impact. Yet, there is still room for much more development beyond simply stating that the player is "in control." A cutscene that the player can move around during is still unaffected by gameplay. It's a step towards a truly interactive story, but it's not the whole way.


Breaking the wall of text!

Many of you might not know what the title Too Human is meant to embody. Originally, the wording "Too Human" was meant to evoke the idea that the protagonist Baldur was considered "Too Human" by his fellow cybernetic gods. He was unwilling to resort to implants to increase his power, and this made him controversial and subsequently interesting.

Though I haven't finished the game, to the best of my knowledge this theme is hardly represented. The character choice between humanity and cybernetic power is relegated to a simple choice of skill tree. In a medium where choice (which should be of essence) has generally been directly translated to good vs evil and pride vs profit, this is not surprising. It is, however, disappointing.

The team at Silicon Knights had a huge opportunity with Too Human to break that storytelling mold as Half Life 2 and Bioshock did before. Beyond this they would have had the first game to do so outside of the first person (with the arguable exception of Grand Theft Auto 4). The idea was there: a battle between humanity and machine on a personal level directly tied to the player character, a theme never explored before and totally exceptional in possibility.

Humanity and machine each evoke very unique thoughts. In fact, they are often considered polar opposites in our society. However, where good and evil as polar opposites are summarized so largely in action rather than consequence, human vs machine have the potential to result in interesting and dynamic consequences. Humanity is emotion and feeling. Machine is power and cold impersonality.


Breaking the wall of text!

How do we translate these themes to video game interaction? The link is simple to establish. Humanity becomes story and character development. Machine becomes gameplay. Instead of progressing down a skill tree, which purely affects character choice - without consequence - Baldur would be able to make man vs machine choices on a case-by-case basis. The idea of Too Human is that Baldur is indeed too human to effectively fight the monstrous machines. He is forced to augment his body with machinery to hold his own. So the gameplay becomes challenging: a totally human Baldur will find fighting the machines to be intensely challenging, a near-impossible accomplishment. With each implant and augmentation Baldur and the player become more powerful and more equipped to handle the challenges to come. This progression is not linear; Baldur does not become more powerful at a rate equal to his enemies. Instead, another augmentation is always an option. There is a constant temptation to machinize Baldur to have an easier time with the enemies to come.

But with each augmentation, there should be consequence. To begin with, these implants are permanent. Baldur cannot regain the humanity he's lost. But as the player makes concessions and further changes Baldur from human to machine, the story is lost. Baldur is losing his humanity, and his emotion and involvement with the affairs of humanity by extension are reduced. What might be a cutscene for a totally human Baldur would be a few quickly exchanged lines of text for the machine Baldur. The human Baldur has reason and motivation behind his actions, and that exposition comes through in the cutscenes. The machine Baldur is a lapdog, taking orders from his superiors and executing them without individual thought or need for justification. The player is forced to make a genuinely difficult decision: do they continue to implant Baldur to defeat one more boss? Or do they sacrifice his humanity, their own humanity, and show their willingness to give up an aspect of the story. This is the crux of choice, where the player has to option to give up the human aspects of the game to become a more effective killing machine.


Breaking the wall of text!

This model for storytelling is something wholly unique. Choice in games has traditionally meant expanding outward. Good or evil means seeing one of two different cutscenes. Going left or going right results in different experiences. Continuing along these lines means more choice for the player, but detracts from the storytelling involvement of any one scene. If everything is optional, nothing can be important. With Too Human there was opportunity to provide choice within a linear environment, and in doing so keep the strong emotional ties generated by a linear story. Choice in games has traditionally not affected story dramatically as developers do not have the assets to create the millions of scenarios that would realistically result. But by creatively integrating choice with gameplay and story as I've suggested with the example Too Human, video games can achieve that level of personal experience without sacrificing integrity or importance. And they can do so in a way that film, literature or graphic novels cannot.

I could write much more on this subject. There's Grand Theft Auto IV, which surrounded itself with choices that were essentially black and white but did so in a way that forced the player to make a hard and self-aware decision, at times even causing regret. There is also much to be said for the way that games like Bioshock have told stories reliant almost entirely on the player's own initiative. But the focal point of this article is Too Human and how even a traditionally constructed, cutscene-based game can take a simple theme and translate it into compelling storytelling in a way that is entirely unique to the medium of video games. As video gaming matures and more people who have grown up gaming enter the industry, there will be a chance for gaming to tell stories as meaningful as the most important stories of literature or film, and this should and can be done in its own, new way.