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Do you remember the television program Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip? Likely, you don’t. It premiered on NBC (you know, that network notorious for running great programs into the ground) in 2006 with a truly stunning pilot episode. Its opening minutes are some of the most honest and intense moments of entertainment in recent memory, absolutely crucifying the now-tepid Saturday Night Live, network television, and television audiences in general. I would ask you to watch a short clip here before continuing to read.
Wonderful, right? Then something happened. The show tossed aside the sharp sword it initially wielded in favor of an olive branch to viewers, saying, “We fixed everything! Isn’t television great again?” It wasn’t. In reality, it proved exactly what was wrong. We think we need olive branches. Really, we need sharp, angry swords.
The videogame industry desperately needs swords, as well. In the face of recent controversies like Medal of Honor, it’s easy for anyone truly involved in the medium to see the state of the industry from both inside and out. It’s seen as offensive by those who don’t understand it and untouchable by those within. We think everything is right; they think everything is wrong.
In this scenario, everyone loses. We are all losing right now. Strangely, this four-minute monologue from a failed television program is as applicable to videogames as it is to network television. There’s a whole hell of a lot wrong.
Let’s start with the part that I’m most hesitant to discuss -- the audience. After all, I’m a very active member of the videogame industry’s audience, so if there’s something wrong with it, there’s something wrong with me. All the same, there is something wrong.
In the monologue linked above, do you notice that as Wes delivers the opening lines in his angry tirade, the audience continues to laugh though nothing is funny? He struggles to convince his audience that this is not part of the sketch, but they continue to chuckle just as they do every night. “I know it seems like this is supposed to be funny,” he says, “but tomorrow you’re gonna find out that it wasn’t.”
Comedy is not the only issue. Sure, the show isn’t funny, just like Saturday Night Live hasn’t been funny in a long, long time. The problem is that the show isn’t good (we’ll get to that later), and the audience applauds and laughs along like zombies.

There are too many times when we, the consumers of videogames, engage in the same behavior. We clap along to the comforts we grew up with, failing to see that we’ve forgotten what exactly we’re clapping for. We celebrate things like the inclusion of Taliban insurgents in Medal of Honor because we believe them to be advancements for the industry.
They aren’t. And when the dust settles, we’re going to look back and say, “I know that was supposed to be great, but it wasn’t.”
The Taliban in Medal of Honor does absolutely nothing for the advancement of videogames. It affects the game’s quality in no way, appealing only to those who feel a need to hold signs protesting the release of the game or those who feel the need to mock those protesters to legitimize a pointless inclusion in a videogame.
But it works, and that’s our fault.
We aren’t asking for the right advancements out of our videogames. Yes, our games tell longer stories with more epic music and better gameplay, but these demands are implied and unending and stand as nothing more than white noise. We have controversies like sex scenes with aliens that get people angry and give us a reason to call people stupid, but each controversy comes and goes with nothing to show but a tally etched in our memories either as a victory or a loss.
So, what should we be asking for? Let’s return to Wes’s monologue. He laments the current direction of the show, which he states “has gotten lobotomized by a candy-assed broadcast network hell-bent on doing nothing that might challenge its audience. We’re about to do a sketch you’ve seen about five hundred times. It’s just thrown in the towel on any endeavor to do anything that doesn’t include the courting of twelve-year-old boys -- and not even the smart twelve-year-olds. The stupid ones. The idiots, which there are plenty thanks in no small part to this network.”
Damn.
Here’s the thing: absolutely everything said here can be applied to videogame publishers, developers, and, well, twelve-year-old boys.
But I’m most interested in this idea of being challenged. When we think of being challenged by a videogame, our minds most often wander to those experiences that offer difficult gameplay. Battletoads is challenging. Demon’s Souls is challenging.
Gameplay challenges are fine, yes, but that's not the only way to challenge your audience. Games too often feel like they’re developed for twelve-year-old boys who have no intention of developing intellectually past that age. We’ve become too content with games and game series like Gears of War that continue to offer the lowest common denominator of quality: passable gameplay, pretty visuals, and ridiculous gore. Otherwise, it’s the same thing we’ve seen five hundred times.

But this is what game developers and publishers have come to expect. The industry rewards the lowest common denominator because it appeals to the widest range of consumers. I enjoy Gears of War because it looks and plays nice even if I leave the experience with nothing of any true value. Twelve-year-olds, the stupid ones, the idiots, play Gears of War because they connect sawing enemies in half with quality.
Wes points out that “there has always been a struggle between art and commerce. Art is getting its ass kicked.” That’s just the reality, whether you want to call games art or not (honestly, I’d prefer it if that topic were never discussed again). The struggle is between advancement and commerce, quality and commerce, meaning and commerce, risk and commerce. And commerce is winning again and again.
I don’t want commerce to win anymore.
In 2008, LittleBigPlanet was delayed by a week to remove a song that contained lines from the Qur’an. We all remember Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas and Hot Coffee. Game publishers are paranoid about controversy -- at least the type that doesn’t quickly and easily make money.
But those controversies almost never benefit the gamer. I don’t care about a song in LittleBigPlanet, and I don’t care about having sex in Grand Theft Auto (maybe the idiot twelve-year-olds do).
As for the beneficial controversies? In videogames, we have none. The closest industry example I can think of is the firing of Jeff Gerstmann, which made many of us question the current structure of videogames journalism, leading us to new outlets for our industry coverage. I know it did for me. It made me think, and it made me change the way I experience games coverage.
But the industry itself lacks guts. Six Days in Fallujah lost Konami as a publisher after questions were raised concerning its appropriateness. No publisher has been willing to touch it since, nor has any developer been willing to try something similar aside from Medal of Honor. “Guys are getting killed in a war that has theme music and a logo,” Wes says in Studio 60, and from what we’ve seen so far, Medal of Honor doesn’t rise an inch above that.
It takes guts to make a videogame set in Iraq that comments on whether it was a mistake to start the war in the first place, something that Atomic Games (developer of Six Days in Fallujah) was very adamant about the game not doing. It takes guts to make a gamer think about something important. It takes guts to buck the trend of feckless attempts at controversy that take the medium nowhere and half-hearted moments of meaning that are underdeveloped out of a fear of consumer alienation. So far, no company has shown us that it has the guts necessary to make something truly powerful.
The videogame industry is already incredibly influential as an entertainment industry, but its power is far greater than what we have seen. A game in the hands of an idiot twelve year old or an idiot 25 year old is a piece of entertainment with no less efficacy to provide meaning than a book, film, or television program. It has infinite potential to provide historical commentary, social and political satire, and riveting entertainment. We may think that we don't want games to do this, but it is a game's responsibility to make us want it.
We all just need to have the guts to make it happen.
But whatever, Studio 60 was an awesome show.
We need to stop relaxing and start kicking ass.
You want a real challenge? Put down the TV/Game controller and try fixing the world around you.
This is me talking to me, by the way. Not directed at the author, the readers or any other comments.
On the topic, I'll have to agree. Nothing has really changed from the past decade in gaming in terms of internal advancement of the genre.
With guts and risk comes the potential loss of money and success and thus developers these days don't want to risk it. Publishers are not interested in backing up such an idealism, if it doesn't carry immediate benefits and a large portion of it's target audience will complain with whatever is uncomfortable (See: Medal of Honor) which takes down the confidence in such an idea.
EVERY industry has this problem of risk aversion. History has proven only individuals and small, tight groups can create great art. The more fingers you have in the pie, the more you fuck that pie up.
Also, PUPPIES!!!
You have people that hold Silent Hill 2 as the standard of the Silent Hill series and want every game in that franchise to bring back the feeling of that exact game. But that was Silent Hill 2. Silent Hill is kinda like the Twilight Zone of video games. Every character that goes to Silent Hill faces their personal demons in a different way based upon who the are.
BUT DON'T YOU DARE CHANGE HOW PLAYS.
I liked Shattered Memories, for example, because Harry Mason wasn't magically proficient with guns and crowbars. The man is is a writer, he has no training with guns or hand-to-hand combat. When he sees a monster, he should run like hell.
But the twelve year-old wants him to fight back and overcome great odds physically. You know what? Leave that shit to Resident Evil, let Silent Hill redefine how things unfold based upon who visits the place. A marine can and should be able to be combat, capable, but a sixteen year-old girl is another matter entirely.
And we do this to all kinds of franchises that may want to grow beyond a particular definition of gameplay. Final Fantasy goes this route all the time and people always complain that isn't like this or that Final Fantasy.
And yet, Mario is always Mario and people will complain about that, too, but the second you change what he does its out with the torches and pitchforks. At least initially it is.
But for 50,000 dollars you don't get that from a game. Usually you get crude or even ugly graphics, and even if you get clean and decent graphics, you're not going to stand out to some frat boy who sees games like Gears of War and Call of Duty on the shelves.
I personally think that someday, when making realistic looking games is cheap and easily doable, we'll have our risks taken. Why? Because there won't really be a risk. I just don't see today's big publishers changing anytime soon. It's unfortunate, but we'll get there someday.
I just hope it's while I'm still alive.
You wouldn't sing those songs if you could have what he has? I would in a heartbeat, except I can't sing nor do I look good to teenage girls.
In fact, I don't look good to anybody except my wife. What the fuck is that bitch smoking?
Silent Hill 2 was great because it had a interesting and dark take on sexuality. You don't see that a lot in games.
Some people are happy with things the way they are, you know? Some would be perfectly content with better graphics every 5 or so years so long as the games that are released involve guns and shooting people with those guns.
And you want a videogame to challenge me? You have lost your damn mind.
The problem with pushing boundaries and actually advancing video games as an art form, is that we continue to treat them as "games". That may seem like an odd thing to say, but we as gamers and the rest of the buying public at large, expect that no matter what games deliver at least one thing, and that thing is fun. In order for games to stop pandering to the lowest common denominator, developers have to get cozy with the thought of games not always entertaining.
Movies, books, music, and every other artistic medium aren't afraid to push buttons, to make their public feel a little uncomfortable, or to make them think. Videogame devolopers embrace this idea to a point, but are still overly concerned with the thought of, "is what is going on right now fun?".
Silent Hill is the perfect example. I remember playing SH2 and thinking it would be great if there wasn't any combat in this game, but I'm sure Konami was thinking that combat is what makes the game fun. I really enjoyed Shattered Memories for that reason, although I wished it would have been a new entry in the series instead of a re-imagining.
Unfortunately, I don't think that developers are going to be ok with letting go of the idea of fun anytime soon, and I'm not saying that they should ever abandon it entirely. It just wouldn't make financial sense, and that's ultimately what they have to be concerned about.
@doos: I agree...to some extent. Entertainment will always be here, and people will always use it as a replacement for actually doing anything. The same will always be true of games, That's why I think games are in such a fantastic position to say, "Hey, I'm glad that you're playing our game, and I hope you keep playing our games, but when you're finished, you might want to think about X." Don't need games to save the world or anything, but any game that makes us change our behavior for the better after we put down the controller is a pretty amazing achievement.
@The Silent Protagonist: I absolutely love Shattered Memories, and I agree that it was a game that took a lot of great risks, and it's a game that really made me think. It really brought to light a lot of the horrors of raising a teenage girl in our modern times, and I really, really applaud the game for it. I wish the nightmare sections had been more fun, but it's still a wonderful videogame.
@Silent Protagonist: I tip my hat to you too sir.
@Super Drybones: maybe, but the point is that fans got so damn fixated with that game that everything after it is never good enough, SH: Homecoming's combat was "too good for a SH game", SH: Shattered Memories "shouldn't have lacked combat at all", SH3 "wasn't as good", you see where i'm going?, it's the same for almost any franchise, "no Zelda will surpass Ocarina of Time", "RE2 was the best, then it went to shit" .
On the other hand the industry seems to be unable to analyze and realize what it's doing right and replicate it in other games, you mentioned that SH2 had an "interesting and dark take on sexuality" which is true, but just like you said, that's something very rare, even Konami itself seems to have missed that and instead all they seem to have taken from SH2 are the busty nurses to the new entries on the IP.
I swear sometimes i think i'm mentally challenged or some kind of freak for actually enjoying SH:H, SH:SM and SH2 just as much for the good points each had, but then i realize it doesn't matter because if i am at least i'm happy.
It reeks of unnecessary, overblown social commentary that just doesn't have any realistic bearing that I can decipher.
What is this "risk" factor in this industry? Why are people always calling for it, and demanding that "risks be taken"? Risks are being taken all the time. We're fucking SURROUNDED by risks; near every capitalistic venture in this industry constitutes a risk. In fact, at the moment, I'd say the risks are higher than ever with the amount of companies in competition and the dollars being shelled out in development. There are inventive, risky moves being made all the time, but they're tossed out or maybe just easily forgotten in the seemingly ever-constant lack of satisfaction in the game consumer market.
Risk and innovation surround and penetrate this industry perhaps more than any other out there; there are advances being made all the time, ideas being tested, and concepts being floated. There isn't a day that goes by that somebody doesn't have an idea or two that stretches the boundaries. You want risk? Nintendo's Wii and now the 3DS are incredibly risky concepts, one of which has already paid dividends beyond even the wildest of dreams. You want risk? World of Warcraft seemed like a completely insane proposition at the time and has become a self-regulating money-printing machine. You want risk? Innovative or simply imaginative titles like Little Big Planet, Scribblenauts, Mass Effect, Brutal Legend, or the upcoming Kirby's Epic Yarn, and more. You want risk? Splinter Cell: Conviction constituted an entire re-imagining of the franchise design philosophy up to that point, taking it in a completely new direction. That's just a meager handful from the last couple of years, not even vaguely representative of the kind of aggressive changes pursued in older games through patching or through modding communities.
It seems to me that this article isn't asking for risk so much as begging for a change in writing philosophy, and it's a change that isn't even necessary. We live out the entirety of our lives in the mundane; every once in a great while there is a jewel of a moment that has some sort of lasting, penetrating effect, and then that moment is gone, suspended alone again in a sea of monotony, vaguely connected in some kind of cosmic connect-the-dots that we call our life. So it is with all things, including all arms of the entertainment industry.
Asking for, or rather condemning due to a perceived lack of, "risk" is a bunch of self indulgent crap. Not every thinker will be an Isaac Newton, an Aristotle, or an Einstein. Not every book will be a Lord of the Rings, or a Dune. Not every movie will be a Full Metal Jacket or a Terminator. Why in the Hell should we expect more from games? You have a Half-Life here, a Metal Gear there, and the occasional Valkyria Chronicles to round out the mix. Get these things into perspective, because what you’re experiencing is the very essence of history repeating itself in an easily observed algorithm. Look to the universe; how much empty space to every spatial anomaly, star cluster, planet body, or galaxy?
I don't know about any of you, but I don't need a game making stunning social commentary to me about the Iraq War or most things, really. I get plenty of that just talking to people or keeping up on current events. What I want from most my videogames, both as a consumer and as a person, is an engaging, and more importantly fun experience. Every now and then something deeper can be good, and there will always be games that represent these deeper philosophical designs, but most of the time it's just nice to jump around as Mega Man and blast the shit out of some Robot Masters. The games market overwhelmingly reflects that; for every Shadow of the Colossus you're gonna see 20 Mega Mans, and I don't think that's a bad thing. I also don’t think there’s anything expressly wrong with dreaming of a different ratio, but… keep on dreamin’.
I was one of the people, looking forward to what Atomic Games wanted to do with Six Days. As a gamer in his 30's I actually give a damn about what goes on in the world, its unfortunate that those outside of the industry, misunderstood their intentions or those of gamers. I was more disappointed with Konami, for not growing some balls and sticking to their guns with Atomic, and see the game released (its not like the catalogue is risky at all). The smaller developer loses out once more.
Its ironic that it takes the likes of EA, who have enough financial muscle and brass balls to try a similar thing with Medal of Honor. I knew it would draw the fire of those same objectionists to games doing anything other mediums do, but for once I'm glad EA are getting MoH to shelves, and will also buy it. I think what they have produced in single player will prove interesting, and its best to judge it then
Yes, the greatest shame of those in the power seats of this industry, is that they didn't get behind fellow developers and publishers, in times of great need such as this, when the non gaming, fox whipped vultures circle us and attack with next to no proof and hear say bs about a game. I still remember the poor chap on Fox News, coming out in defence of Mass Effect and getting a verbal beat down, when Bioware and MS should have been doing what he did. Where were they, or Peter Molyneux or Warren Spector (big smart industry names with good media training and knowledge of the industry)?
Putting out statements is the best we get (I'm glad EA responded to the MoH biz), but even that seems a bit pussy whipped and faceless. Get on the news and defend your product. I hope MoH does well, because we need game media that pushes the boundaries. A gamer that thinks about the world, after walking away from a game, is a richer one in my opinion. Bioshock was great at this, though in a made up world (made me check out Ayn Rand's works too). Its about time we see the same, from a game based in the real world events.
I recognize that I don't have a choice in the matter. The fact is, the majority of entertainment as a whole will always be mundane. This isn't necessarily due to the fact that mundane sells, so much as the fact that there's just so much out there. I wish I had a figure to throw out, but take a moment to consider how many television programs are produced in a given year; how many new seasons of old series, how many new series brought to life or given a shot via pilot, and all that waits in the wings drawn up in scripting or just as concepts. And not just in the United States, but everywhere, all over the world.
I can not even remotely attempt to consume that much entertainment product in my entire life, and it only represents one year's worth. Imagine the amount produced during a lifetime of a single person; there are certainly going to be gems contained therein, but statistically speaking everything can't be good. In fact, I'd wager that the greater majority of it isn't all that palatable in general. Factor in personal taste, and the number of universally amazing content is marginalized even further. The very nature of our existence is that of mediocrity. Take a hard look at human lives; your own, or someone close to you. How many days are spent going through the motions, and how many are truly memorable because of some incredible discovery, either personal or universal; how many things have really moved you, and how many days in relation to that are basically marginalized by comparison? For me, I know that the day to day motions make up the majority of my life, and there are a few golden instances that break up that monotony.
Or how about the world around us? Brilliant strides in intellectual understanding of the world around us are not a dime-a-dozen, which is a painfully sad thing considering how many human beings are living on this planet as we speak, and how many have come before us.
Mediocrity, with brief, spellbinding moments of understanding or awareness, is just the nature of things. We can, and will, always demand more. The slightest taste of that sweet elixir, even by proxy, drives us to newer discoveries or intellectual heights. The reality, however, is that the majority will still suffer mediocrity and marginalization, because that is the best that nearly any given majority is capable of.
Sad it may be. Hell, it is sad. But try as I might, I always seem to find it the truth.
But at the same time, I can't deny that I find satisfaction in the lowest common denominator, too, especially when the gameplay feels great to me. Gears of War is absolutely one of my favorite series on a gameplay and stylistic level (save for the bulk of the main characters -- it would've been much more convincing of their desperate struggle to save humanity if they'd not been so huge-necked and large-armed).
So in a way, I'm a bit of a hypocrite on the issue -- that's the honest truth. I do feel some degree of regret when we celebrate all of these super soldiers in the face of a tough, real-life war, especially since my childhood home is near two military bases and I hear the honorary song play across the base when stationed personnel die in the line of duty. I've heard it many, many times since March 2003. I grew up alongside many people who are soldiers now, and knew families growing up that had to suffer the loss.
And then we virtualize it, with heroes that can come back from taking bullet damage after staying in cover for a few seconds, blah-blah. I know I come off as ranty, but my experience is that many gamers have NOT been closely related to the actual horrors of war. And it goes both ways -- we're causing the same exact devastation to innocent families abroad, but it's not completely black and white. It's very gray. These games try to make it so black and white, but making the enemy playable and getting comments from CoD's military advisor about the courage of the enemy's troops isn't saving lives, people: Instead, we're just changing our thoughts to "Oh, well it sounds like both sides are honorable in killing one another, may the most courageous warriors win!"
It's hollow and cold to feel that way, folks. It's like stepping back and watching two stubborn, angry animals fight to the death. If you can't see otherwise, I'm sorry that your lifelong passion for videogames has utterly failed you in your capacity for a decent level of compassion.
C'mon, they do the same jokes as Studio 60, but funnier/broader/worse (delete where applicable).
The worst part of it all are the enthusiasts within the medium who are protecting how it is right now. People like Blindfire get enraged about this, when really there's nothing to be super upset about outside of the idea of changing things, but those people exist within the industry itself.
The first that comes to mind is Ryan Davis over at GiantBomb. He's a smart guy and I agree with him about a lot of things, but he seems very down on the thought of games being anything more than what they are now. At one point he was defending Mercenaries 2 for being shallow and action-junkie focused because "that's what games are." If one of the big voices people listen to about games thinks like this, then what is the audience supposed to think?
The most depressing part of this tale, is the history itself. Studio 60 was canceled, and television still sucks. What does that mean for us?
@Roek: I don't think the way you feel is at all hypocritical. After all, if fun has to be sacrificed to give us a different type of Gears game, then it would be a failure. That's not at all what I want. For what Gears does, I think it is fine, but it just doesn't appeal to me on a stylistic, story, or gameplay level. Same would go for a "horrors of war" game. If it's so horrific that it's not fun, no one will want to play it, and its message will be entirely wasted.
It's a horribly slippery slope, and that's why it's such a risk to try something different. But I know when a risky idea is executed extremely well, it's going to absolutely blow us all away.