If you were to show someone whose never seen a video game before a highlight reel of the past few years’ greatest hits and biggest sellers, what types of words would they use to describe what they saw? After witnessing the escapades of Marcus Fenix, Master Chief, Kratos, Soap MacTavish and even The Dark Knight (Oh you better believe I can work a Batman reference into any article), I wouldn’t doubt that the first thing out of their mouth was to call games hyper-masculine and violent.
Now hold on. Before you close the tab because you think this is about to be some rant about sexism in games, let me assure you that this isn’t that article. I just wanted to point out the reality of that reaction. Not only is it a realistic reaction, but it’s also a fairly reasonable one. After all, the person probably just witnessed Batman beat a criminal into submission, Master Chief impale a few Covenant with an energy sword and Marcus Fenix fill a Locust grunt full of bullets just before chainsawing him in half. So let’s be clear in saying it is fair to say that hyper-masculinity and violence are two general trends in a large portion of popular games. I’m here to tell you that there is a pretty huge reason why it’s a crying shame that those would likely be the first words out of an observer’s mouth.
Stay with me now. I said I wouldn’t be burning my bra in this article, and I am a man of my word. Let me start by saying that playing both Indigo Prophecy and Heavy Rain made me feel something that I had rarely felt before as a player. It’s possible that I had truly never felt this way in a game at all. That feeling was vulnerability, and it helped me become a part of those game worlds better than any photorealistic graphics or 7.1 surround sound ever have. Creating vulnerability has the power to deliver more immersion through closer relationships between the player, the characters and the game world.
So what does vulnerability have to do with being a violent super man? When was the last time you saw Superman feel vulnerable? How vulnerable do you think Marcus Fenix feels when he’s hefting around a death machine like the Lancer? Not ever and not very should be your answers. The point is that it’s hard to feel anything other than invincibility, both physically and emotionally, in a game when the avatar is built like a truck and has the ability to solve any problem with a hearty helping of bullets and fists. And since I don’t regularly feel invincible in my day-to-day life, it makes it hard to relate to a game as being anything more than just a fantasy. As any writer or director in any other storytelling medium knows, it’s difficult to deliver a compelling story if the audience doesn’t relate to the characters.
Many of the greatest stories throughout history depict an ordinary character put in extraordinary circumstances. This is a lesson that games have yet to learn. Most developers go out of their way to create characters that are just as extraordinary as the situations they are put in. There’s never a situation a player feels they can’t handle when they are a Spartan or “the one soldier who can save us all.” What kind of emotional conflict can arise in a narrative when you know from the outset that your character only knows how to win win win? Think of the last movie you saw that you felt truly connected to. It probably didn’t star Vin Diesel or The Rock. It likely starred an every-man type of actor. You could relate to them because, like you, they didn’t have all the answers and wasn’t always in total control of the situations they were in.
Looking at the violence, let’s be clear. I have no problem with violence in games. Heavy Rain and Indigo Prophecy both certainly have their share. However, there is a major difference between the way violence is implemented in those two games and the other games I’ve discussed. Those two games don’t use violence as the primary or, in most cases, only problem solving tool at the player’s disposal. With most games, it seems that even if the main character really is just a normal person, they have an endless arsenal of weapons or combat skills at their disposal that they are happy to use as the means to any and every end. Got a problem? Shoot it! Something in your way? Punch it! Need to open a door? Roundhouse kick that bitch clean off the hinges! If a game doesn’t give you real guns, it gives you the type of “guns” that your buddies cleverly inquire whether or not you’ve bought a ticket to see while they point at their poor excuses for arms. Bottom line, games tell players that every answer in the world is just a bullet or backhand away. Again, I get that this is empowering, but it’s not very relatable on any level.
And then there was Heavy Rain. If you don’t think that removing some of the invincibility factor can have an impact on a player’s relationship with a game, then you haven’t tried Heavy Rain. Sure the game has the whole “any character could die at any time” hook to make you overtly aware of your stunning normality, but it’s the subtle, in-game things that make this even more apparent. For starters, all of the characters are just regular people. Ethan is just a father trying to salvage his relationship with the world. Scott Shelby is a private detective; surely he must have some firepower at his disposal, right? Wrong. You know what he has? Asthma. Little things like this let the player know that these are characters that they can relate to. They have problems like getting their kid to school on time and refilling an inhaler prescription. The developer didn’t need to hit me over the head with a “death warning” to get me to care about the characters. They accomplished that just by making them normal and putting them in normal situations.
As Alex pointed out with his Indigo Prophecy article, developer Quantic Dream has a knack for making the simplest thing seem intense and action packed. Heavy Rain is no different. I attest that they do this here by sparse and deliberate use of violence in the game. Just like in real life, the player often has to talk their way in or out of a situation. When a bouncer blocked my way at a club, all my previous game knowledge had me searching for the punch button, but how realistic is that? More importantly, how immersed could you truly be when your problem solving skill set is that ridiculous? Just go try and get past a bouncer that way. See if the reaction you get pans out like in most games. Intensity gets created in this game because the two reasons that are stated above are nowhere to be found in this game.
Not making the player all-powerful also has the ability to keep action games, and games in general, from getting boring. Any player looking for more than cheap adrenaline will grow tired of only having the same feelings evoked from them over and over again. Limiting the problem solving set to just violence will also become uninteresting. No matter how pretty the graphics look, it will start to not matter if all we’re going to do is blow holes through them. Not stylizing every character to be a ‘roided out meat-head also expands the situational possibilities for the character and therefore the player as well. Let’s face it; Marcus Fenix is only good for one thing, destruction. Ethan Mars, on the other hand, can believably exist in any situation.
I understand that many people play games to live a fantasy or for escape, and that’s totally fine. However, I also thought that one of the points of games was to immerse the player in another world and different situations. Sensory immersion techniques like graphics and sound will only get us so far. Developers need to start paying attention to games like Heavy Rain that use situational and character-driven methods to strengthen the relationship between the player and the game world. By keeping characters and their abilities grounded in some sort of reality, Heavy Rain was able to make a convenient store robbery feel more intense than a full scale battle ever has, and it was all because for a few moments when I wasn’t sure whether that single gun was going to fire on me, I felt vulnerable.