Last April, Roger Ebert stirred controversy by declaring, “Video games can never be art.” In his journal entry, Ebert went on to slam claims of artistic merit made about games such as Braid and Flower as uncompelling, and mocked the artistic merits of Braid’s time-reversal feature, heralded as a mechanism for players to think about their own lives. “[I am not persuaded] that I can learn about my own past by taking back my mistakes in a video game.” The game’s storyline, which was the subject of much praise, “exhibits prose on the level of a wordy fortune cookie.”
This post, as well as Ebert’s previous writings on the subject, inspired a flurry of responses from game designers, players, and journalists. Kellee Santiago, a video game producer and designer, whose TED presentation inspired Ebert’s article, responded, “It doesn’t seem that Ebert has played many, if any, video games.” Chad Sapieha, the Globe and Mail’s technology columnist, had similar criticisms. “For him to weigh in on the artistic value of interactive entertainment is like someone who believes the work of Jackson Pollock has no merit or meaning talking about the lack of artistry in splatter painting.”
“I’ll be honest, to me, this debate is long over,” says Benjamin Rivers, a Toronto-based comic illustrator and video game developer, known for graphic novels such as Snow and Empty Words. “Increasingly, we communicate, learn, and grow through games, just as previous generations did through books, film, and poetry. They are a constant part of our lives, and whether we admit it or not, we’re all affected. I’ve been as emotionally affected by games as I have by film or books. How can we not consider that art?”
The video game development scene is being overtaken by indie developers, many of whom, like Rivers, are also artists in other media. There is a booming scene in Toronto, one that has played a pioneering role in the creation of cutting-edge, avant-garde games. “Toronto was creating art games long before it was cool,” says Jim McGinley, a developer and co-founder of the Hand Eye Society, a local organization supporting the gaming scene.
There is an ongoing surge in creativity in game development, and the reasons for it are numerous. It has never been easier or cheaper to develop games — beautiful, complex games can be developed by anybody with time and dedication, and with hardware as simple as a home computer. The Internet has made distribution to a mass audience very easy. The shift to less-powerful platforms, such as cellphones and iPads, has also evened out the playing field.
The gaming community in Toronto is strikingly enthusiastic about contemporary video game development. Mare Sheppard, one half of the local indie developer Metanet, explains, “It’s a fantastic time to be a game developer and Toronto is an inspiring city to work in.” Rivers agrees. “I feel like I’m part of the bedroom-coding gold rush of the seventies and eighties.”
Toronto gamers now count on several organizations to support the community. In addition to the Hand Eye Society, there is the Start Show, a week-long showcase of local indie video games at OCAD, and TOjam, an annual game event in which developers have to create a game, based on a theme, in three days.
As a result of cheaper, easier development, the creative process has evolved, and the possibilities have blossomed. “In the past, the bulk of development was just getting the game to work,”says McGinley. “If you could emulate something from the real world, you had a game.”
The emergence of independent development in the field allows for a different development process altogether. “Working at a larger company would require sacrificing creative control, which would be difficult for us [at Metanet],” says Sheppard. “At Metanet, game development is all about transforming our (sometimes crazy) ideas into reality, and tweaking them until they finally resemble these games we’ve imagined and want to play.”
“Small developers are the creative lifeblood of this industry,” asserts Rivers. “[They] have the flexibility and nimbleness to iterate, create, and keep games’ audiences on their toes; and while pricing and exposure means it can be difficult to find a hit, smaller developers are better able to deal with risk.”
“Mark my words — tomorrow’s big budget games will feature heavy inspiration from today’s indie titles.”
The argument for the artistic merits of video games is multifaceted among developers and gamers. Some refer to the creative process of developing interfaces and game-play, even if for the value of entertainment. “Coming up with a great game idea and design is often incredibly challenging, and is an art in itself,” says Sheppard. “Devising and refining each aspect of a prospective game to start, and then being able to fluidly adapt as the project evolves, are skills that every game developer is constantly working on.”
N, Metanet’s award-winning platformer, is known for requiring frustrating levels of attentiveness and meticulousness from the player. The game’s website warns “We’ve had reports of people throwing their keyboards, smashing their gamepads, busting their laptops, yet ending up with a satisfied, proud feeling of accomplishment when they’ve beaten the game.”
Other gamers will point to the value of game aesthetics in graphics, sound effects, and background music as examples of artistic merit in the field. An example in the Toronto indie community that stands out is Osmos, whose developing team had a member from Toronto. In the arcade, the player takes on the role of a luminous life form seeking to annex others and thus expand. Osmos is known for minimalist electronic music and serene, colourful graphics. These qualities make for hypnotic, absorbing gameplay and earned the team universal praise.
Video games are also beginning to be appreciated for their ability to deliver a particular message, to convey an experience, and to do more than simply entertain. Most developers these days, according to McGinley, “view games as art, and accept that not all games have to be fun. Sounds like an artistic scene to me!”
Initially, the overlap of video game development with other artistic scenes served only aesthetic purposes — it is a medium that invites collaboration. However, artists have begun to embark on game development as a different medium to expand on their work, and to develop artistic visions and intent. Benjamin Rivers calls his game Snow — based on his graphic novel — “an experiment in empathy.” Rivers sought to provide players with a more comprehensive view of the day-to-day life of his comic’s main character, the anguished Queen West dweller Dana. “If they went to read the graphic novel on which the game is based, they would feel like they have this secret insight into her character.”
“Games can have an effect on the player far more than any other medium,” claims McGinley. “Can a painting communicate the complexities of running a city? Can a movie make the viewer question his/her complicity in viewing? Can a story change every time you read it, and use that as a plot device?”
The possibilities for developers seem boundless, and the enthusiasm in the people involved is palpable. Art or not, the creative surge in video games means that there are exciting things to come for the medium, and that increasingly, there will be more to expect from gameplay than just entertainment.