My apologizes for the extended absence. What started off as a holiday break got a little out of control. It’s time to get things going again with this opinion piece on gaming.
Roger Ebert, my favorite critic and yours, somewhat infamously remarked a couple years ago that video games could not be art. He later backpedaled a bit, refining his viewpoint to state that video games could not be “high” art.
There are about a million different directions in which I could go with this topic – the definition of art, the definition of “high” art, or plunging down the rabbit hole of blogs and internet postings that dissect both sides of the argument. Let me sidestep some of this with a link in which the topic is handled very adroitly by Tim Maly of Toronto. He writes to Ebert:
Thank you for jump-starting a discussion about the relative artistic and critical merit of video games as compared to film and books. I do take issue when you argue that video games can never have the merit of a great film or novel. You say: “There is a structural reason for that: Video games by their nature require player choices, which is the opposite of the strategy of serious film and literature, which requires authorial control.”
Where you see a flaw, I see promise. Arguing that games are inherently inferior because books and movies are better at telling stories and leading us through an author-driven experience is begging the question. It’s like saying that photography is better than painting because photos make more accurate visual records.
(snip)
Many people would agree with you that there aren’t yet any games that rival the best films or books that you care to list. Game makers are only just beginning to understand that games are not films/books with action sequences. I think that you’ll see that the more we work that out, the more we will find ways of creating meaningful artistic works that are unlike anything anyone’s seen before.
Bonus points to Tim for the correct use of the term “begging the question.”
I agree with Tim (and to an extent, Ebert) in that while elements of video games are art, the genre has by and large not gotten to the level of, say, film. I think video games are best classified as a skill or leisure activity. Yet as Tim argues, gaming is not inherently disbarred from attaining the level of art, which I would define as something that makes a statement, or is designed to be interpreted or provoke thought. The gaming industry may be on the cusp of that hallowed level, and I submit that Grand Theft Auto IV may be one of the first examples.
To the few people reading this that are not familiar with the Grand Theft Auto (GTA) series, you take control of a thug that pulls off various heists. As the game progresses the character becomes more and more involved in the criminal underworld of the game’s setting, a fictitious version of New York City. The easily-offended might emphasize the game’s crudeness or apparent insensitivity, but keener minds will emphasize the impressive scope and vision of the game. More than any other game I’ve played, GTA IV achieves two things: a terrific sense of comedy (ironic, considering the central storyline is a tragedy), and a merciless parody of U.S. culture. It is the latter that I think bears close attention, and may herald the beginning of a new art form in the coming years.
Simply put, no other game I have played has made such an articulate and effective statement about something relevant. Grand Theft Auto satirizes almost everything you could think of in American culture, including, but not limited to: the country’s obsession with wealth, the disgusting ubiquity of fast food (in the game you can buy a 6 lb. burger called The Heartstopper), the broken aspects of our political system, the rampant use of drugs to medicate away problems, and the American superiority complex. Perhaps these are all easy jabs in the abstract, but they are handled with a relentless satirical bite that Voltaire would have been proud of. The satire comes in the form of TV shows, radio stations, internet sites, billboards and advertisements, and the city’s inhabitants. You are literally immersed in an environment of pure satire.
To me, the most affecting aspect of GTA IV comes in the form of the people you encounter around the city. Everyone is in a rush to get somewhere. If you get in their way, they’ll call you an asshole and maybe look to pick a fight. This too is satire, poking fun at New York’s ultra-urban environment, but one that somehow struck a little closer to home. It shows how sad and mean-spirited this culture can be; it showcases our cultural lack of empathy.
And there it is, right there – GTA IV is perhaps the first video game that actually made me reflect. It reminded me how pathetic it is to be rushing around everywhere, proverbially pushing people out of your way as so many of us do. And the way in which game developer Rockstar delivers this message is so subtle and well-conceived that the game attains qualities of a work of art.
Other fans of the game might also cite the game’s relatively engaging storyline, which also contains a message. Though I would not want to detract from GTA’s story – which for a video game is quite good – it falls short in the broader storytelling medium. For one, the moral of this story has been delivered more effectively in film and other outlets, partially because GTA IV does not find a consistent tone (as alluded to above, the elements of tragedy are undercut by many lighthearted moments). GTA IV’s story is fine, but it is not genre-transcending. I believe its environment and satire is.
Grand Theft Auto IV has been an all-around phenomenon, setting various video game sales records and getting universally rave reviews by the media. But for all that, I think gamers might not realize exactly what this game represents. Placed in the context of history, it may be seen as something more: one of the first video games to show the world how subtly powerful – and yes, artistic – the medium can be.
