For a long time now a debate has been raging as to whether video games constitute art or not. The gaming industry now brings in more money than the film industry, although, so too does the porn industry which few would argue qualifies as art. When one considers the number of people working on the development of a game it might seem like common sense. Games employ programmers, writers and storyboarders, actors for voice acting and motion capture, architects for computerized landscapes, and yes, artists, for character, costume and locale design, etc... Of course video games are art, aren't they?
I suppose a more important question on the issue might be to ask whether or not they constitute "high art", or even just good art. We could argue semantics all day, and come up with either a narrow view that only so-called "classics" which have stood the test of time are art, or a broad view that even childrens' drawing constitute it (not very good art, but art nonetheless). Using the latter criteria, it could very reasonably be argued that no game ranks even close to the greater works of film and literature. Roger Ebert recently took up such a view -to the renewed ire of many a gamer- when he re-entrenched his earlier opinion that games do not constitute high art and will never be within the lifetimes of current gamers. Video games can never be art or http://blogs.suntimes.com/ebert/2010/04/video_games_can_never_be_art.html (He mostly was refuting a TED Talks key-note speech by student Kelley Santiago, who cited a few examples of "artistic" games and likened still developing gaming industry to that of ancient art.)
Though personally I am of the opinion that games do qualify as art, it's a much more difficult question as to whether or not they rank as high art. While I'm sure that many out there would disagree, I'm not sure anyone can reasonably say they've acheived the levels attained by books and movies. I've been wondering recently why this is exactly. I somehow doubt it's for any lack of trying. Developers nowadays are pushing the envelope in just about every aspect imaginable within the games themselves, attempting to immerse, engage, and yes, even emotionally involve gamers. "So what exactly is the holdup?", we find ourselves asking, "Why aren't you art yet, gaming industry?!!"
One of the arguments in Ebert's blog entry seemed to indicate that the competitive/goal driven aspect of games was what interferred with it all. At first this would seem a strange angle with which to try and dismiss the power of games. The fact that the gamer shares goals with the characters they control gives games an additional level of identification with those who experience them. Many a gamer seems to site Final Fantasy VII as an example of this, and I have no doubts that a few people out there did indeed cry when the character Aeris died as part of the story, since the gamer was up until that point in charge of keeping her alive. But does the whole objective-part of games somehow cheapen them?
Watching the characters in a movie is lot like witnessing events in real life, we might sympathize with some and loathe others but we cannot interfere when it occurs in a movie. And having this level of control does indeed take away some of the power the storytellers would otherwise have. This can be especially noticeable in the so-called "sandbox" games where gamers now have the ability to simply attack or beat up nearly anyone they encounter who annoys them. I noticed while watching others play, that even poeple who would never become violent in the real world have a habit of lashing out randomly in the games they play. I don't know that we're living out our fantasies on screen per se, but perhaps this element does in the end lower the overall experience of games.
Character models have advanced to amazing levels, but still don't look and move entirely like a human beings which can at times lead gamers to simply not care about these figures who can be strange in a very uncanny valley sort of way. You add this to the control level I mentioned earlier, and there's just an unrealistic aspect to the whole thing that comes from gamers being able to simply behave in completely unbelievable way. Killing oneself for example, or attacking a cop, or stealing a car and then crashing it into a building... The realistic qualities of many movies are cited as being strengths, but much of this gets torn down in the sacrifice games make to give their players more freedom. How serious are gamers really taking the story when in between cutscenes they can go on a murder rampage to relieve stress?
When it comes to film, the masters of suspense like Hitchcock have a habit of winding the audience up by not difusing the tension with action. The thrill of the fight scene often leads to a subconscious feeling that all is safe again when it's over, and for this reason, action movies do tend to lack any kind of real suspense. In games, however, action very often is the point, and even in situations with objectives like: sneak around, or: go undectected, gamers have a habit of simply doing the opposite on purpose to "see what happens". The lack of any consequence can lead to a sort of detachment from the whole thing with the attitude of: "It's just a game, I can always try again later" being the last word. Perhaps there's no consequence to watching a film either but our lack of control can make it feel that more is on the line for the characters on screen. Viewers of movies don't have the bottom line of success or failure (of neither which matter anyway when it comes to games) to govern their overall feelings of what they see on screen. Empathy, anger, and whether or not a person agrees or disagrees are instead more common emotions after watching a film. Are the pleasures of success and disappointments of failure in games simple and cheap and dominating their art form? And in the absence of them are film viewers left then to dig deeper for the meaning of what they've just seen?
So what are we feeling when we play games exactly? The adreneline of battle is certainly there, as well as a certain kind of tension present in many types of competitive sports when you really aren't sure how things will play out. But then again, this kind of tension can be found in pretty much any game or situation really where gambling is possible, and it has nothing to do with a well-crafted story. I suppose if there is one area of games which really gives them an emotion that can't be found in movies, it's struggle. Games are interactive, not passive. When we play a game, we really do have to struggle through it to see its conclusion, it isn't as simple as pushing the play button or turning the page. This interactive element does to some degree make games "not-for-everyone" (it especially becomes harder to learn to do new things when you get older and this is well reflected in the very low numbers of seniors playing games), but to those who do play them, the added effort could be enhancing things in a way movies aren't able to do as well.
I've noticed that games are pretty good at getting an "epic" kind of feel to them. Of course, part of this could be due to the scale and length which games are capable. Games can take anywhere between 5-60 hours (though some are even longer) to get through, putting them more on a level with books and television in this regard, though recently movies have been trying to keep up with a multitude of sequels. Longer length does tend to help the epic feel; it can have a more episodic nature and when more time has been invested, more feels at stake as well. But returning to the idea of struggle, it's hard not to argue that the gamer going through the genuine ordeal of fighting in a game doesn't give them something of an advantage to movies. Almost any gamer out there can tell you about one particular section of one particular game, the many hours it took them to conquer it, and the feelings they had afterward. Gamers also do tend to have a sort of bond with each other because of this, which in a funny sort of way is a bit like the bond that soldiers and athletes have. Persevering through conflict brings people together, even ones created as digital entertainment.
While I wouldn't say the games chosen as examples in Santiago's key-note, were good ones, I would have to say her argument about games in their infancy being akin to primitive rock paintings and early film is a sound one. It even prompted Ebert to revise his statements with the aforementioned qualifier; even if he is basically saying: "Not in this life-time", that's quite a difference from stating outright that games are not art. Early movies were not considered art, and neither were many different genres of music or fiction at their inception, but considering film was introduced only a little over a century ago, its recognition as art has been quicksilver compared to painting and literature, and things just keep on happening faster in these expnential times we live in. I have serious doubts games will ever be able to do drama or love stories on the level of film and literature any time soon, but perhaps time really is all that's needed for games to hit those higher levels.
