mfthree

[mfthree]

Blog 6 – Ignorance is... Bliss? 

There are certain qualities that define us as human, and chief among them is our perception of reality and our place within it. But what if that perception is rooted in ignorance? What if the reality we cling to is a carefully constructed illusion—one we create to shield ourselves from the harsh truths of existence? Should we risk everything to uncover the truth, even if it threatens our very foundation, or should we embrace the comfort of ignorance and remain in... bliss? 

Knowledge is the cornerstone of humanity's evolution, propelling us to become the dominant species on this planet—perhaps even in the universe. The ability to explore the intricacies of objects, recount the events of the past, and share these insights with others has driven us beyond our primal state, shaping us into something more. But what if the foundation of this evolution is built on a lie? What if the knowledge we pursue is confined to the constructs of our reality, morphed by our primal instincts to survive? What if the ultimate truth of the universe is so harsh, bleak, and unbearable that acquiring it would demand the sacrifice of all comfort and ease forever? Would you still seek this absolute knowledge, or would you choose to remain cocooned in the relative bliss of ignorance, shielded from the harshness of reality? 

Curiosity has been a defining trait of humanity since the very beginning. In the story of Adam and Eve, the allure of the forbidden apple symbolized the irresistible pull of the unknown—a theme that continues to shape human endeavors today. From probing the mysteries of ancient myths to venturing into the uncharted depths of space, our desire to uncover what lies beyond our grasp defines much of our existence.     

This eternal struggle between ignorance and truth is powerfully captured in the 1999 film The Matrix. Neo, the protagonist, faces a pivotal choice: to live in blissful ignorance or confront the harsh reality concealed behind the illusion. By choosing the red pill, a symbol denoting the apple of Eden, Neo sacrifices comfort for truth, shattering his idyllic life in favor of a grim, unforgiving world. His choice reflects a deeper human drive—not merely to gain knowledge but to validate the unease gnawing at his perception of reality. As Neo's journey unfolds, his transformation into a hero stems from his acceptance of the new reality and his belief in himself. Yet for the millions still trapped in the Matrix, their fabricated reality remains unchallenged, and they continue to exist in ignorance. This raises a profound question: was Neo right? Does his pursuit of truth elevate him above others, or does it reveal a deeper propensity for self-destruction—a shadow cast by his hacking past and rebellious tendencies? 

For some, taking a leap of faith, as Neo did, comes naturally—especially for the rebellious or those dissatisfied with their current reality. For many others, however, the idea of rejecting deeply ingrained beliefs and a familiar existence is unimaginable. After all, their choices and the lives they’ve built are firmly rooted in a perceived reality they consider absolute and thus their reluctance to shake their reality is perhaps a method of self-preservation or a survival mechanism. (Friston & Stephan, 2007) 

This dilemma is explored masterfully in Frictional Games’ psychological thriller SOMA. Set in a dystopian future, the game presents a world where machines have consumed human consciousness, believing themselves to still be human, complete with memories and emotions. Players must navigate a moral quandary: treat these delusional machines as mere software and destroy them to progress, or acknowledge their humanity, making the journey more challenging while keeping potentially dangerous machines operational. Every action hinges not just on morality but on your fundamental understanding of reality itself, compelling you to confront and question your own perceptions of existence. 

SOMA underscores humanity’s dependence on beliefs for survival. Your actions in the game are driven by your perception of reality—casting yourself as the protagonist. Yet, if your understanding of the world shifts, every decision made in pursuit of self-preservation might unravel, forcing you to confront an unsettling truth: you might not be the hero, but the antagonist in someone else’s story. 

Humanity’s oldest fear, as Lovecraft (1927) observed, is fear of the unknown, making the safety of the familiar far more appealing than venturing into uncertainty. Hence, we return to our original question: should we remain confined within the boundaries of our perceived reality, avoiding the struggle to explore the unknown? Or should we dedicate ourselves to uncovering the mysteries beyond, even if it means challenging the limits of our current understanding- potentially risking our future? 

Plato explored this very dilemma 2400 years ago in “The Republic”, through the allegory of the cave (Chalmers, 2022). In this allegory, individuals are chained inside a cave from birth, perceiving the shadows on the walls as their sole reality. When some escape and witness the true world beyond, their newfound knowledge disrupts their understanding of existence. Meanwhile, those still chained resist these revelations, preferring the harmony of their limited, self-perceived reality. One is left to wonder: are those who remain in the cave, ignorant of the outside world, more at peace than those who escape and confront the truth? Does the burden of enlightenment, with its expanded awareness and complexities, outweigh the relative ease of ignorance? 

Humanity has always been driven by an insatiable curiosity. I believe this trait forms the foundation of our existence, enabling us to escape the metaphorical caves of our past and strive to break free from the physical chains of our present. While I understand the appeal of choosing blissful stability over the turbulence of the unknown, there will always be rebellious Neo(s) who take the red pill, daring to uncover hidden truths. Whether the next step leads to a brighter future or a dystopian nightmare, one certainty remains: it will be another step toward unraveling the mysteries of reality 

Sources 

‌ Chalmers, D.J. (2022). Reality+: Virtual Worlds and the Problems of Philosophy. W. W. Norton & Company. 

Friston, K.J., Stephan, K.E. Free-energy and the brain. Synthese 159, 417–458 (2007). https://doi.org/10.1007/s11229-007-9237-y 

Lovecraft, H.P. (1927) Supernatural Horror in Literature. Available at: https://www.hplovecraft.com/writings/texts/essays/shil.aspx (Accessed: 10 November 2024). 

Plato (2013). The Republic. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press. 

[mfthree]

Blog 5 – Semiotic Analysis of Frostpunk 

In the late 19th century, a volcanic winter plunged the entire world into an unforgiving ice age. As a leader, you’re tasked with establishing a new city amidst a wasteland of ice and death. But survival isn’t threatened only by the relentless cold—it’s also imperiled by the social order of this new, fragile world. In this blog, we will analyze the semiotics within Frostpunk, examining how the game's symbols, environments, and mechanics communicate the brutal tension between survival, morality, and governance. 

On the surface, the Frostpunk is a survival, city-building strategy game that allows the players to design and create a city, using resources like wood and steel, during a modern-day ice age in the 19th century. Players are tasked with maintaining a certain heat level in the city which is centered around a towering generator which consumes coal, an extremely precious resource, to produce heat. Furthermore, the populace of the city also has needs like food and morale that require to be taken care of thus adding an additional city management mechanism that the player needs to balance in order to survive in the world of Frostpunk. But it is when you start to peer below the surface level mechanics, symbols, environment, story and gameplay that you start to find the darker and more macabre tone of the game itself, for to survive in the bleak world of Frostpunk one is required to strip themselves of their very morality and humanity. 

Central to the survival of Frostpunk’s city is the generator: a massive, coal-fueled machine that generates life-sustaining heat. This machine dictates real estate value within the city, as areas closest to the generator are crucial and thus allocated to essential structures like research laboratories, which drive technological advancement, and medical centers, which care for the sick and injured. Yet, this arrangement comes at a steep cost—requiring you to push the residential areas for the city’s worker class inhabitants further from the generator, exposing people to harsher temperatures and leading to inevitable cases of sickness, frostbite, and, tragically, death. 

This mechanic mirrors the real-world scarcity and competition for prime real estate, where access is often limited to those with greater economic power, as highlighted by Reis and Coelho (2018). In Frostpunk, heat means survival; in major urban centers, real estate often holds a similar status, with only the affluent gaining access. Governments tend to prioritize high-return developments over housing needs, pushing lower-income individuals into overcrowded, underfunded areas. The dynamic is starkly reminiscent of the displacement experienced by Native Americans, as settlers overtook lands under the banner of "Manifest Destiny," a term heavy with justifications that dismissed indigenous claims to land (Rust, 2023). Both in Frostpunk and history, the tension around resources isn’t just about access but about whose needs take precedence when survival is at stake. 

As players gather scarce resources in Frostpunk, the value of each individual often becomes secondary. The drive to secure resources like coal and steel parallels real-world conflicts, many of which began as battles for land, labor, and raw materials. Chapman (2022) Historical invasions, from Rome’s expansion for slaves to modern-day resource wars in the Middle East, illustrate the brutal extent to which people go to secure what they need to maintain power. Frostpunk starkly highlights this: survival at the cost of humanity, showcasing how individuals can be rendered mere tools in the pursuit of resources— forcing players to face the thematic choice that carries potent social implications, per Hawreliak (2019). 

To sustain the generator’s heat, players send citizens into the unforgiving cold. Labor division underscores the brutal hierarchy, where the lives of engineers hold greater importance than those of general laborers. Players face choices that sacrifice the less "useful," reflecting a theme that echoes through our society: a person’s worth is often linked to their role rather than inherent dignity. Frostpunk brings this unsettling reality into focus, posing questions about autonomy in a society where the ones in power silently determine one’s path through subtle, often invisible manipulations. The game portrays a chilling truth about life: those deemed indispensable are protected, while others, considered expendable, are left to bear the harshest burdens. 

Perhaps Frostpunk's most notable mechanic is the “Book of Laws,” a tool allowing players to shape societal rules to survive in its harsh world. These laws span choices as simple as giving sick patients extra rations to survival-driven decisions like allowing children to work in dangerous coal mines. Every law test both morality and decision-making skills, as choosing one law can lock out more humane alternatives. For example, enacting child labor helps secure needed resources, but passing a law to send children to school would deprive the workforce and demand more staff to support it. While the "Book of Laws" enriches the gameplay, it also serves as a dark commentary on humanity, illustrating the compromise of ideals for survival. The hard truth is that moral choices often come with unbearable consequences, pushing people to abandon values for the “greater good.” History offers unsettling parallels, from those living in autocratic regimes forced to labor under dangerous conditions, to powerful nations invading less-equipped countries, claiming "necessary evil" as justification. (Shaw, 2014). Each choice reveals the frequent victory of necessity over morality, confronting players with humanity’s shadowed past and posing a question: will we uphold our values when tested, not just in the virtual realm, but in reality as well? 

In the end, Frostpunk isn’t just a dark, strategic survival game; it’s a revealing look into our own human nature. Unlike other games that let players emerge as heroes, Frostpunk forces them to confront the weight of every decision, acting like a mirror that reflects the core of our morality. After the 6–7 hours of gameplay, players may find themselves feeling a chill—not just from the game’s frozen setting, but from the cold reality of the choices they made, all in the name of survival. 

Sources 

‌Chapman, A., 2022. Historical Consciousness and Ethical Responsibility in Video Games. Game Studies Quarterly, 6(3), pp.45-60. 

Hawreliak, J., 2019. Multimodal Semiotics and Rhetoric in Video Games. Routledge. 

Reis, R. and Coelho, A., 2018. Games and their Reflection on Culture: Immersion, Gameplay, and Ethical Implications. Journal of Digital Humanities and Videogame Studies, 22(1), pp.15-29. 

Rust, R. (2023). Manifest Destiny, Summary, Facts, Significance, APUSH. [online] American History Central. Available at: https://www.americanhistorycentral.com/entries/manifest-destiny/. 

Shaw, A., 2014. Gaming at the Edge: Sexuality and Gender at the Margins of Gamer Culture. University of Minnesota Press. 

[mfthree]

Blog 4 – Crafting a Reality 

Are we living in a genuine reality, or could it be a simulated construct, a ‘matrix’ designed by forces we perceive as the ultimate truth? In this blog, we’ll delve into what defines reality and examine the fascinating possibility of crafting a shared version of it, whether willingly—or otherwise.  

It’s fascinating to imagine that everything around us—every building, car, bird, and even person—is part of a vast simulation, engineered to gather data or resources for a power beyond our understanding. Although this idea may seem like a direct echo of the 1999 blockbuster The Matrix, that doesn’t make it any less compelling. Some might argue that the movie itself, along with other references to simulated realities, could be part of a larger plan—a test by the simulation to see if its subjects can piece together the clues. Perhaps even this blog is part of that scheme, imitating the shepherd who cried wolf until, eventually, his cries went unheard.    To question reality, we must first define what reality actually is—a task as elusive as drawing something without a beginning or end. Broadly, reality encompasses everything that exists in the universe. But on an individual level, reality is the sum of all knowledge and experiences that shape one’s understanding of the world. This duality creates two distinct forms of reality: a personal reality formed by an individual's acquired knowledge and experiences, and a 'meta-reality,' which Plato described as the ultimate, unchanging truth that exists beyond the physical world (Plato, 2013). 

The nature of our reality has been a topic of inquiry for centuries, captivating philosophers, cultures, and religions alike. This curiosity is deeply ingrained in human nature, although it tends to fade as we grow older and start accepting things at face value. Yet, for many, the urge to question the world’s fundamental reality persists. Are we, perhaps, living in an artificial reality? And if so, could it be possible to create an alternate reality that others could inhabit as well? 

In some ways, the virtual worlds enabled by modern technologies like the Metaverse serve as examples of crafted realities designed for others to experience like virtual theme parks, movie rooms and even training simulations for training new doctors. (Rahaman, 2022) As sophisticated AI increasingly mimics human thoughts and emotions, one could argue that virtual environments may soon simulate every aspect of physical reality. When that happens, does the goal of creating a new reality become fulfilled? And if so, could this mean that our current reality might itself be a construct, a simulation of where we live lives that feel real but are ultimately engineered? According to Plato, even a personal reality forged in a virtual, ‘fake’ world could count as true reality, or perhaps only as a series of experiences without deeper meaning.

A Hindu folk tale beautifully illustrates this theme through the story of the sage Narada. In one version, Narada claims to the god Vishnu, “I have conquered illusion.” Vishnu then promises to show him the true power of illusion, or Maya. Narada awakens as a woman, Sushila, with no memory of his previous self. As Sushila, he marries a king, bears eight sons, and becomes a grandmother. One day, an enemy attacks, killing all her sons and grandsons. As Sushila grieves, Vishnu appears and says, “Why are you so sad? This is all an illusion.” Narada then returns to his original self, realizing only moments had passed since his conversation with Vishnu. (Chalmers, 2022) This story questions whether reality consists of experiences, whether in a crafted virtual world or our physical world . 

Throughout history, humans have sought to craft realities through experiences meant not only for themselves but also for others. The entertainment industry exemplifies this ambition, continuously striving to simulate reality and immerse audiences as deeply as possible. From Wagner’s operas, which used Gesamtkunstwerk (the ‘total work of art’) to engage all senses, to modern 4DX cinema experiences that add physical effects to enhance believability, the goal has always been immediacy. Yet, does this truly replicate reality, when audiences are limited to passive observation with no ability to interact within that crafted world? 

To bridge the gap between passive observation and immersive simulation, more interactive experiences have evolved, such as video games. These allow individuals to step into crafted realities and actively participate in the virtual world. With the advent of augmented and virtual realities, the line between physical and digital realms continues to blur, offering people the opportunity to shape their own ‘mixed reality.’ Movies like Ready Player One depict this hybrid existence, suggesting that, ultimately, experiences—whether in the physical world or virtual space—define our perception of reality itself. 

In the end, I’m reminded of the iconic scene from the 1990 film “Total Recall”, where, after enduring countless trials, Douglas Quaid (Arnold Schwarzenegger) pauses to question whether everything he has experienced was real or merely a simulation. Despite his triumphs and heroic deeds, he remains uncertain if his experiences were genuine or simply fabrications crafted by someone else (Chalmers, 2022). Much like Quaid, we too grapple with understanding what truly defines reality—whether it’s shaped by the physical world or an intricate construct. Perhaps, as we continue to craft our own versions of reality, both virtual and tangible, the boundary between what is real and what is simulated will only grow more ambiguous. 

Sources 

Chalmers, D.J. (2022). Reality+: Virtual Worlds and the Problems of Philosophy. W. W. Norton & Company. 

Plato (2013). The Republic. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press. 

‌ Rahaman, T. (2022) ‘Into the Metaverse – Perspectives on a New Reality’, Medical Reference Services Quarterly, 41(3), pp. 330–337.

[mfthree]

Blog 3 – Does Transmedia Storytelling Harm Original Narratives? 

This blog will explore two distinct types of narratives that emerge from a single story: one crafted by the author's creative vision and the other shaped by outside imagination. By examining the events from the past decades in the entertainment industry, I will explore whether transmedia narratives are detrimental to the original story or contribute to its evolution. 

Contrary to popular belief, especially given the abundance of stories and narratives in today’s market, creating a successful story from scratch is often more monumental than any other creative endeavor. Take Game of Thrones as an example: George R.R. Martin had to craft relatable characters, build a rich world with deep lore, and construct a well-paced narrative with a strong beginning, middle, and (hopefully) an end—an effort that took years. Even then, the trials didn’t stop, as the story was scrutinized by an audience eager to find even the smallest flaws. Only after enduring these challenges did Game of Thrones rise to prominence, with its characters and narrative reimagined and adapted by countless others, sometimes building upon, and in other cases, undermining Martin’s original foundation. 

In recent decades, most entertainment has become instantly accessible to a vast global audience, consumed at an unprecedented rate. With the rise of the internet and streaming services, the majority of the population now has entertainment content at their fingertips, which has increased the knowledge of the everyday consumer. This heightened demand for high quality and frequent content which often puts pressure on creators, who need time to produce something that satisfies their eager fanbase. 

To bridge the gap between major releases, many creators license their Intellectual Properties (IPs) to other studios, allowing for the creation of new and engaging content that expands the universe and its lore. These studios and media houses often put their own spin on the original narrative, creating games, movies, comics, or TV series based on the IP to captivate both existing and new audiences. This practice of narrative franchising is known as transmedia storytelling, has become a cornerstone of modern entertainment (Jenkins, 2007). 

Many acclaimed works of entertainment have achieved stardom in part due to transmedia storytelling and the diverse forms of content created across different media. These not only deepen the lore but also explore aspects the original author may not have touched upon. A prime example is the Warhammer 40k universe. Created in 1987, the franchise thrives not only on contributions from dedicated authors who have expanded the universe through numerous books, but also from fans who enrich the lore with fan fiction, game studios that create engaging games, and lore-experts like Weshammer, Lutin09, and Warrior Tier, who have tasked themselves with piecing together and producing quality content that explores the entire Warhammer universe. Games Workshop, the creators of Warhammer, have publicly acknowledged the value of transmedia storytelling, crediting many iconic moments—including the 'Fall of Cadia' and the events of the '13th Black Crusade' (Henstepl, 2002)—to contributors outside the original creators, including fans. The critical success of the Warhammer franchise highlights the positive impact transmedia storytelling can have on a fantasy universe’s narrative and its enduring future within the community. 

However, such collaborative efforts are rare. Unfortunately, many outsourced works are created with little motivation to enrich the original lore, focusing instead on capitalizing on the author’s creation for personal gain. These products often feature absurd or fantastical narratives that prioritize attention-grabbing over substance, with nonsensical moments designed solely for profit. Instead of acknowledging their work as a form of "multimodality," these studios often insist on canonizing their content, causing fractures in the original narrative. In doing so, they not only harm the integrity of the original lore but also alienate the fanbase. 

“I’ve long been an opponent of fan fiction,” George R.R. Martin remarked during a conference at Brown University. He explained that his opposition grew over time, especially as the internet transformed fan fiction from a harmless hobby into an attempt to capitalize on others’ work. Martin reminisced about the early days of fan fiction in the 1960s, when he and others, instead of using well-known characters like Spider-Man or Superman, created original ones like Radar and Manta Ray, exploring fantasy worlds inspired by his favorite comics. He noted that this approach was intended to respect the original authors' work, not undermine it, and to create alternative stories that might draw new audiences and expand the fanbase of the original material (Aegon Targaryen, 2019). 

Martin also expressed his frustration with transmedia storytelling, using the example of Game of Thrones. He explained that while the TV adaptation was undeniably successful, it frequently strayed from the original lore and narrative, often disregarding his input and warnings. This divergence culminated in a series finale that left many fans dissatisfied, even though the (his) original work remains incomplete. Such experiences have led authors like Martin to distrust transmedia storytelling, prompting them to protect their intellectual property more strictly. 

Yet despite the questionable intentions of some companies, one cannot deny the profound impact a dedicated studio or invested fan base can have on both the narrative elements and the future of a story. Take Valve’s magnum opus Half-Life as an example. Although no new games or expansions were released for nearly two decades, the franchise was kept alive solely through the efforts of its fan base. Despite the cliffhanger ending of Half-Life 2 and the agonizing silence from the creators, the series and its narrative survived thanks to fans who consistently produced Half-Life fan fiction, art, game mods, fan comics, and hosted numerous fan events.     The fan-made remake Black Mesa stands as a testament to this passion. Created by Crowbar Interactive, Black Mesa was eventually greenlit by Valve, who recognized the dedication behind the project. This community-driven effort not only kept the Half-Life universe alive but also reaffirmed its value to Valve, leading to the revival of the series with Half-Life: Alyx in 2020. The new game acknowledged many of the transmedia story elements developed by fans and explored the lore in greater depth, sparking hope for future installments. 

In light of these examples, I view transmedia storytelling as not only a sign of commitment from the audience but also a reflection of trust the author has in his own work. While it may be difficult to believe that outside studios or fans can fully grasp the complexities of a universe crafted by its creator, I believe that, when done well, transmedia storytelling can enrich the original lore with new stories. Much like an interior designer who adds detail to a building’s structure laid by an architect, fan fiction and transmedia elements can enhance the world the author created and should be embraced rather than dismissed. 

Sources 

Aegon Targaryen (2019). George RR Martin on His Problems With Fan Fiction. [online] YouTube. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u5g9-pfIImw [Accessed 16 Oct. 2024].  

Jenkins, H. (2007). Transmedia Storytelling 101. [online] Henry Jenkins. Available at: https://henryjenkins.org/blog/2007/03/transmedia_storytelling_101.html.  

‌ Jenkins, H. (2011). Transmedia 202: Further Reflections — Pop Junctions. [online] Henry Jenkins. Available at: https://henryjenkins.org/blog/2011/08/defining_transmedia_further_re.html 

‌Paras, A. (2015). Gabe Newell: ‘I Understand People’s Concerns About Us Not Ending Half Life’. [online] Wccftech. Available at: https://wccftech.com/gabe-newell-understand-peoples-concerns-life/ [Accessed 16 Oct. 2024].  

[mfthree]

Blog 2 – Gesamtkunstwerk: The Artistic Core of Video Games 

In this blog, I will explore the concept of Gesamtkunstwerk within the realm of video games and assess its influence on their success. Additionally, I will examine different video game designs and their artistic approaches, comparing the success of those that embrace a holistic design philosophy with those that remain committed to medium specificity. 

The success of any video game hinges primarily on one factor: how effectively it immerses the player in its world. If a game can isolate the player from reality and successfully transport them into its narrative alongside the characters, it is considered a success. This idea resonates with Richard Wagner's concept of Gesamtkunstwerk, which describes a work of art that integrates multiple art forms (Wagner, 2001) to captivate its audience—something video games consistently strive to achieve. 

Over the past decade, video games have made monumental strides in bridging the gap between our real and the virtual world. Cutting-edge graphics and realistic visual effects make us question our own reality, while music and sound further blur these boundaries. Games like "Quantum Break" and "Alan Wake 2" utilize techniques like photogrammetry and real-time facial capture, which were once primarily used for lifelike character models, to create entire virtual environments with an unprecedented levels of realism. Music has also taken on a greater role—where once short soundtracks sufficed, today whole orchestras and bands are hired to compose everything from subtle sound effects to bombastic scores for pivotal moments. 

In addition to these advancements, many creators are employing diverse artistic methods and techniques to convey their vision, from distinct art styles to innovative game mechanics, and even interactive hardware to heighten immersion and produce the desired effects. All following Richard Wagnar’s idea that no one rich faculty of the separate arts will remain unused in the Gesamtkunstwerk of the Future (Wagner and William Ashton Ellis, 1994) proving once again the importance of Gesamtkunstwerk in video game design and development. 

One of my favorite examples of a game that masterfully blends various art techniques is Nier: Automata. It uses these methods not only to immerse players in its world but also to effectively convey the intricately crafted narrative. As its designer Takahisa Taura noted, the game’s success can largely be attributed to the fluidity of its art style and mechanics, which evolve to suit the situation. From seamlessly blending 2D and 3D art styles to using the player's actions and playstyle to alter the world itself, Nier: Automata masterfully encourages players to question their choices—exactly as the creator intended. 

Achieving a level of immersion that makes players question their personal decisions in a fictional world—one that technically doesn’t even exist—is no easy task. Yet, through the use of various art forms and techniques, a piece of software can make you forget your surroundings and reflect on your choices (Granic, Lobel, and Engels, 2014).  

In contrast, a 'pure' game, focused on medium specificity, often demonstrates a noticeable difference in both player immersion and emotional engagement. A prime example of this is the visual novel genre, which uses static character models and text to tell its story. Players are typically given the freedom to shape their journey from a set of predetermined choices, leading to one of several pre-made endings. While this genre offers a distinct approach, it has struggled to achieve mainstream popularity, often serving as an introductory tool for aspiring game developers, being used in risk-prone projects, or functioning as a medium for creators with limited time, skill, or budget. Success within this genre is rare and usually hinges on a gimmick or unique mechanic that piques the curiosity of its audience. 

Personally, I view video games as an amalgamation of various art styles and mechanics that come together to stimulate the senses and emotions. It’s easy to see Gesamtkunstwerk—the combination of different art forms—as the true backbone of successful video games. While it’s certainly possible to create games that adhere to medium specificity and strive for purity, I believe doing so is akin to denying a game’s full potential. Unless a particular game demands such restraint, I would argue that it's unnecessary. Instead, I would always aim to achieve the perfect blend of arts to create something truly extraordinary. 

Sources 

Granic, I., Lobel, A. and Engels, R.C.M.E. (2014). The benefits of playing video games. American Psychologist, [online] 69(1), pp.66–78. doi:https://doi.org/10.1037/a0034857.

Wagner, R. (2001). Art and revolution. Mons, Belgium: Sils Maria Asbl.

Wagner, R. and William Ashton Ellis (1994). The art-work of the future and other works. Lincoln; London: University of Nebraska Press.

Wikipedia Contributors (2024). Gesamtkunstwerk. [online] Wikipedia. Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gesamtkunstwerk#Arts_and_Crafts_movement [Accessed 16 Oct. 2024].

[mfthree]

Blog 1 – Balancing Narrative and Gameplay 

Video games must carefully balance narrative storytelling with gameplay to deliver the best experience. In this blog, we’ll explore several recent games and the techniques they employ to present compelling narratives without sacrificing gameplay enjoyment. 

“The first lesson for any game designer is to get the player to stop and look at something you want them to see, and the second is to repeat that first lesson throughout the entire game" (Valve, 2023). These words from Ken Birdwell, gameplay designer at Valve and contributor to Half-Life, highlight the ongoing challenge of engaging players with the game’s lore and narrative while offering them the freedom to explore and enjoy diverse gameplay mechanics. Hence, the task is twofold: creating an environment rich with storytelling while encouraging players to slow down and engage with the narrative amidst the lure of the game’s mechanics. 

To address this challenge, game studios employ a variety of methods—ranging from cutscenes that require players to watch non-interactive story segments, to granting players nearly complete autonomy with minimal narrative guidance. While some players might prefer one approach over another, ultimately, the balance of story and gameplay remains a subjective choice. Many studios have demonstrated that different approaches can successfully integrate storytelling and gameplay. 

One of the most iconic methods used to balance narrative and gameplay is the narrative cutscene. The term 'cutscene' was coined in 1987 by Ron Gilbert when he introduced fully animated story sequences in Maniac Mansion. During a presentation in Germany, Gilbert explained that he chose the term 'cutscenes' because these moments “cut away” from gameplay to focus entirely on storytelling (Elumski, 2012). Games like the Metal Gear Solid and Yakuza series embody this approach, believing that true narrative impact is difficult to achieve if players retain full control, as unrestricted play creates too many possibilities that may dilute the crafted storyline. These games will usually allow their players freedom to explore their virtual worlds in order to enjoy their entertaining gameplay but, eventually, will revert this freedom back when it is time to deliver the narrative.  As Jesper Juul (2001) describes, even if players act out every scene of Shakespeare's Hamlet, they still wouldn’t experience the precise narrative Shakespeare intended, as they would if they simply watched the play unfold. 

But recently, new creators and studios have begun to challenge this traditional approach by crafting vast worlds filled with complex gameplay mechanics that require time and skill to master—while offering little explicit information about the game’s lore or narrative. Games like Elden Ring and The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild exemplify this approach, using only sparse cutscenes or abstract textual cues to hint at the storyline. Despite the unconventional approach to balancing narrative and gameplay, these games employ a concept known as goal-oriented narrative storytelling, where story elements are revealed only after players overcome difficult challenges. They leverage the idea that 'player interactivity is a key dimension of computer game narrative' (Qin, Rau & Salvendy, 2009). By presenting the narrative as a reward for engaging with gameplay mechanics, these games encourage players to actively seek out story elements through their actions. 

While many games succeed in balancing gameplay and narrative, some narrative experts argue that 'interactive storytelling' is inherently contradictory. They reason that a cohesive narrative requires a certain level of uninterrupted focus, whereas video games frequently introduce distractions through gameplay mechanics. For players to truly understand a game’s narrative, they must not only follow the immediate storyline but also grasp the broader world, including its lore and the character's role within it. Games like Heavy Rain and the Dark Souls series have been criticized for disrupting key narrative moments with elements like quick-time events or enemies that attack players during pivotal scenes. These interruptions can momentarily pull players out of the story, diverting their attention and ultimately detracting from the narrative, which in turn can impact the overall experience. 

Yet, despite these potential pitfalls, many games have successfully struck a balance between engaging gameplay and complex storytelling. By employing concepts of embedded and emergent storytelling, games enable players to discover narrative elements within the game world while also crafting their own unique stories through gameplay. This approach brings a certain realism to video games, mirroring how stories in our daily lives are often products of our actions and experiences rather than a predefined narrative. This realism, in turn, deepens immersion, which remains a key aspiration for game developers seeking to create truly impactful gaming experiences. 

Sources 

Elumski (2012). Ron Gilbert - Maniac Mansion postmortem. [online] Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wNpjGvJwyL8 [Accessed 11 Oct. 2024]. 

Juul, J. (2001). Games Studies 0101: Games telling Stories? by Jesper Juul. [online] www.gamestudies.org. Available at: https://www.gamestudies.org/0101/juul-gts/. 

Qin, H., Rau, P., Salvendy, G. (2009) Measuring Player Immersion in the Computer Game Narrative. In: Entertainment Computing [online] https://www.researchgate.net Available at: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/220302079_Measuring_Player_Immersion_in_the_Computer_Game_Narrative. 

Valve (2023). Half-Life: 25th Anniversary Documentary. [online] Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TbZ3HzvFEto&t=3124s [Accessed 11 Oct. 2024].