First of all, I’d like to thank myself for making that (hopefully) fine
distinction between art and entertainment last week, and taking
care of a lot of grunt-work for this week’s column. I couldn’t have
planned it better. And so, fair reader, it may help you to read that post if you haven’t already done so.
Multiplayer is Soulless
This week’s topic is the multiplayer phenomenon, and how it
relates to narrative. Games almost always involve the construction
of a narrative, even if said narrative is merely a paragraph-long
excuse for killing numberless crowds of Enemy Type A. However, simple
excuses have become blasé in most video games, relegated to Serious
Sam, vicious old-school nostalgia-inducers, some indie games, and most
of the puzzle genre. Even games like Gears of War, which would
probably have been better off just telling the player to “kill the
Horde while your characters quip in man-like fashion,” (NSFW)
make an attempt at serious narrative, even weaving theme and
dramatic sequences into its otherwise uninterrupted bloodbath.
Why? One can only hope that they assumed that they had to, because if
that isn’t the case, then somebody must have thought that the Gears of
War story was worth telling. In the attempt at narrative, all such
game modes become candidates for “art”; they are telling a story, and
thus that story is subject to established methods of judgment built
for that style of experience.
Constructed narratives are much less common in multiplayer
experience. Multiplayer is more often interested in
mulching/beating/shooting/destroying other players and/or the computer
with or against one’s fellow player, or in other words, achieving
usually arbitrary and abstract goals with minimal story
significance, and it typically remains only entertainment, with
little to no artistic aspiration. It is not uncommon to see entire
titles released for this purpose (Left 4 Dead
is the obvious culprit here, which is really not much fun to play on
your lonesome, but there are plenty of other titles, mostly FPS,
in which the single player campaign is there mostly because it helps
sell units). Multiplayer modes are almost always devoid of cutscenes,
meaningful story progression, character growth, and really
anything that could be remotely considered “storytelling.” That
means that multiplayer is bankrupt in the narrative
department, yes?
Maybe not. At this point, however, it becomes necessary to split
up multiplayer games into a few categories. It’s a really wide net
I’m casting here, and a bit of distinction will help. Some games will
probably fit into multiple categories, or have a mode that fits
into one, and another that fits elsewhere.
Competitive Multiplayer
Street Fighter through Starcraft. These games are
designed to be a test of mettle in which the more proficient (or
lucky) player emerges victorious. The goal is to defeat all comers
and to stand atop the pile of their corpses with banner held high.
Team versions of such gameplay also exist in this realm, though
Deathmatch is really the pure form. These modes are high on
entertainment and low on art, and tend to emphasize the skill of the
player over and above all else. Some players approach these titles more
casually, seeking an experience of fun and not of domination.
Cooperative Multiplayer
Gears of War 2’s Horde Mode is
the iconic cooperative model. Generally, the goal is not to be
declared the “best,” but rather to work alongside other human beings to
accomplish a shared goal. Most of these tend to be much higher in
entertainment than in art. The differences between competitive
and cooperative multiplayer modes are, perhaps, minor, but I want
to make the distinction because I, at least, have a notably
different experience between the two styles. Cooperative styles of
play force a player to think of the other members of his team
constantly and that state of mind does change the experience of play.
Cooperative Story
Resident Evil 5 and Left 4 Dead 2
are good examples of the cooperative story. The player
experiences a narrative alongside other human beings. By virtue of
its narrative, Cooperative Story games offer an experience of art,
even if that isn’t necessarily the “point” of the game. Left 4 Dead
is not about the story of the survivors; it is about teamwork and
shooting zombies. If anything, the story provides a setting for
that subject, but by virtue of that setting, Left 4 Dead has narrative qualities. What’s more, the characters are generally interesting, consistently portrayed, and easy to empathize with.
In addition, the atmosphere is appropriately bleak and moody, with
some interesting (albeit entirely environmental and optional) asides
to the stories of other survivors, giving a slightly wider scope to
the apocalypse story being told. What little bit of art there is to
be found in the narrative of Left 4 Dead
is quality stuff. And, since it’s not trying to be anything else, we
can’t fault them for amount of content; in fact, the game probably
works best with the little traces that we do see, since its primarily
a survival experience, not a story about the origins of the zombie
plague.
Where There Is No Story…
So far, I haven’t exactly covered anything new. But this is where things get crazy, folks.
I want to argue that, while no narrative is necessarily intended
in multiplayer modes outside of the cooperative story umbrella,
simple narratives DO exist for the player.
The player creates these narratives with the images and sounds that
the game provides because it is the natural way of interacting with
a series of synchronous events. Though empathy with one’s avatar
character is certainly lessened in most multiplayer experiences
(even in L4D,
I rarely feel all that connected to Ellis or Zoey), but it’s
definitely still there, even if it’s just a desire to survive and
succeed. In multiplayer, empathy is more situational than
personal.
For example, one of the reasons Gears of War’s Horde mode
succeeds so well is because of the sensation of holding out against
a superior force. That story is firmly planted in our history, and has
thus become a story archetype. Horde mode allows us to experience
that archetype first-hand. We can see the monstrous hordes advancing
on our position, and we are certain that death has come to claim us.
This makes the breathless combat of Horde all the more satisfying.
While this is a fantastic example, not all multiplayer modes
contain such an archetypal situation to empathize with. However,
players will STILL create narrative for them, even if the game does little to reinforce that narrative.
For this purpose, we will look at Starcraft’s multiplayer. On the surface, Starcraft is
all about the mastery of abstract resource management and
successful micro-management which, essentially, aims to get the most
damage output and take the least amount of damage for each
individual unit, or to utilize a unit’s special abilities in the
most effective way possible. That sounds really cold, but the actual
experience is a little more intimate than that. This is especially
true in games with multiple opponents, since shifting loyalties and
strategies require you to constantly re-assess opponents’ stances
against you and their force make-up. I argue that the player is
building a narrative as the game progresses. It is a simple
narrative, perhaps expressed in something like, “I am winning, and
I am pressing the offensive, but he is a strong defensive player, so
I need to be careful or I’m going to lose too many of my ground
troops.” This is perhaps most obvious post-game, when, in
conversations with one’s opponents, one naturally gravitates
toward the moments in the game when a loser came back to win big.
Moments like these also exist in the social consciousness (all the big
football upsets, for instance, ride on this same archetype). If the
game only existed as resource management and micro-management to the
players, there would be no such thrill. Obvious, perhaps, but hey, who
actually thinks about these things?
So What?
Good question. Just because we build a narrative for our
multiplayer experiences doesn’t mean that the modes are art. We do,
after all, tend to build narratives about lots of things that aren’t
art, like football, as mentioned above. But that does mean that we
have the same basic response to multiplayer modes as to story modes;
the story modes simply provide additional and more elegant tools for
the building of narrative. This also means that multiplayer modes
have the potential to become
art, if the narrative experience evoked by a multiplayer mode
does allow for reflection and revelation. Such a game would be
difficult to build, particularly if you want player control to
matter, simply because allowing the players to have control and
also reliably creating a satisfying and revelatory experience
is tough as hell to accomplish. But it is possible. Roleplaying
games accomplish it all the time, and with a greater degree of player
control.
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