{"id":12593,"date":"2018-02-09T21:45:00","date_gmt":"2018-02-09T21:45:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.gamasutra.com\/view\/news\/314533"},"modified":"2018-02-09T21:45:00","modified_gmt":"2018-02-09T21:45:00","slug":"dont-miss-the-dramatic-value-of-player-motivation-in-story-driven-games","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sickgaming.net\/blog\/2018\/02\/09\/dont-miss-the-dramatic-value-of-player-motivation-in-story-driven-games\/","title":{"rendered":"Don’t Miss: The dramatic value of player motivation in story-driven games"},"content":{"rendered":"

The following blog post, unless otherwise noted, was written by a member of Gamasutra\u2019s community.
The thoughts and opinions expressed are those of the writer and not Gamasutra or its parent company.<\/small><\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\n

Copyright \u00a92017 Chris Solarski (SOLARSKI STUDIO)<\/p>\n

My\u00a0second book was recently published by CRC Press. Titled,\u00a0Interactive Stories and Video Game Art<\/em><\/a>, I’m very proud that it has been described as gaming’s equivalent to\u00a0Story<\/em>, the classic book on screenwriting by Robert McKee, and endorsed by film director, Marc Forster. This article\u2014kindly sponsored by the SAE Institute Zurich<\/a>\u2014explores a key concept that I developed in the book called the unreliable gamemaster<\/em>.\u00a0This article concerns the dramatic value of player-character motivation and in story-driven games. The featured\u00a0 case studies illustrate techniques for adding a second narrative layer to game objectives, and how this layer can heighten player immersion.<\/p>\n

SPOILER ALERT: before proceeding, readers should be aware that the article contains spoilers for the following films and games: Wreck-It Ralph<\/em> (2012), Halo 4<\/em> (2012), Uncharted 4: A Thief\u2019s End<\/em> (2016), The Beginner\u2019s Guide<\/em> (2015), Firewatch<\/em> (2016), Gone Home<\/em> (2013), and The Usual Suspects<\/em> (1995).<\/span><\/p>\n

Making a distinction between a protagonist\u2019s wants<\/em> and needs<\/em> is a basic consideration for anybody who has studied screenwriting. To paraphrase artist, writer and filmmaker, Iain McCaig:<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cSomeone has a want<\/em><\/strong>, but obstacles must be overcome to achieve that desire, with the toughest being a hidden obstacle inside them (their need<\/strong><\/em>). In the end, the protagonist gets what they need<\/em><\/strong> but not necessarily what they want<\/em><\/strong>.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\"\"
Wreck-It Ralph\u2019s greatest obstacle is overcoming his material want<\/em> and realising his spiritual need<\/em> in Wreck-It Ralph<\/em> (2012), Walt Disney Pictures, directed by Rich Moore.<\/p>\n

These motivations<\/em> (wants<\/em> and needs<\/em>) are aptly illustrated by Wreck-It Ralph<\/em>, directed by Rich Moore. The film makes for an interesting reference for the way in which storytelling is generally handled in games because it\u2019s a satire of game design tropes. In a world where good is always good and evil is always evil, Wreck-It Ralph, a villain, dares to defy convention and become a hero. This want<\/em>, he dreams, can be achieved by winning a medal. However, at the end of the film he overcomes his biggest obstacle, himself, and learns to become selfless and care for others\u2014the true traits of a hero\u2014which he achieves by helping Vanellope von Schweetz win a medal. This final show of empathy is Wreck-It Ralph\u2019s hidden need,<\/em> which gives emotional value to all his preceding, self-centred deeds. Based on this example we can refine our concept of wants<\/em> vs. needs<\/em>\u00a0with\u00a0the following statement:<\/p>\n

Want (material) vs. Need (spiritual)<\/h2>\n

This is a general theme of most stories in film and literature because the internal conflict between a protagonist\u2019s wants<\/em> and needs<\/em> is a powerful catalyst for overt drama\u2014adding depth to a simple risk-and-reward narrative structure. You can also reference The Matrix<\/em> (1999) and Neo’s want<\/em> to remain a regular guy versus his need<\/em> to accept that he’s The One; or Jaws<\/em> (1975) and chief, Martin Brody’s, want<\/em>\u00a0to catch the killer shark versus his need<\/em> to confront his fear of water. If a narrative focuses too much on fullfilling the want<\/em> and not enough on the need<\/em>, the audience will perhaps experience visceral gratification, but little\u00a0spiritual fullfillment. In game design we must also acknowledge the wants<\/em> and needs<\/em> of the player when structuring a story. The motivations of the player and playable character need not be the same but the intended aesthetic experience should align if the story is to deliver its intended message. I will therefore refer to both the player and playable character as the player-character<\/em>\u2014a single entity\u2014wherever applicable.<\/p>\n

\"\"\u00a0
The overachieving gameplay objective (the player\u2019s want<\/em>) in PAC-MAN<\/em> (1980), by Namco, is clearly depicted atop the screen.<\/p>\n

Classic video games like PAC-MAN<\/em> (1980) have a fairly simple task of\u00a0aligning the motivations of players and playable characters. We must assume that Pac-Man wants<\/em> to avoid ghosts and stay alive. The want<\/em> of players is usually reflected in gameplay objectives\u2014the overarching task players are given to perform. Objectives in classic games tend to be communicated through the user-interface (UI). PAC-MAN<\/em>\u2019s<\/em> designer, Toru Iwatani (1955-2017), boldly stated the game\u2019s overarching objective by inserting the word \u201cHIGHSCORE\u201d and an accompanying counter at the top of the screen. This objective is clearly a material want<\/em> that encourages players to keep Pac-Man alive to better their score and jostle for the #1 spot on the leaderboard. While the player\u2019s need<\/em>\u2014the hidden obstacle inside the player\u2014is the time and dedication needed to master PAC-MAN\u2019s<\/em> gameplay.<\/p>\n

The dialogue between a game\u2019s designer and the player\u2014as illustrated by PAC-MAN<\/em>\u2014is deliberately straightforward. PAC-MAN<\/em> is a formal game so the objective of play must be communicated clearly if players are to understand the game’s rules and objectives and respond with correct inputs to win. The purpose here is pure play from which emergent stories are generated (“I was cornered by Pac-Man Ghosts but just managed to escape through a tiny gab!<\/em>“). If a scripted narrative features in such a game it is merely a wrapper. The narrative could be interchanged with any other and the emergent stories would remain largely unchanged\u2014such as the stories that emerge when playing Chess<\/em> with medieval-themed versus Star Wars<\/em>-themed pieces.<\/p>\n

Echoes of this structure that consists of\u00a0formal gameplay with a narrative\u00a0wrapper<\/em> is\u00a0evidenced in many contemporary story-driven games, even though gameplay has a different status compared to games like\u00a0PAC-MAN<\/em>. In the case of story-driven games\u00a0the narrative should\u00a0dictate<\/em> the shape of\u00a0gameplay\u2014not serve as a mere dressing\u2014if the\u00a0intented dramatic experience is\u00a0to be evoked.<\/p>\n

\"\"
In Halo 4<\/em> (2012), by 343 Industries, the AI companion, Cortana, serves as the game designer\u2019s mouthpiece\u2014communicating a breadcrumb trail of objectives that players must overcome.<\/p>\n

Take for instance Halo 4,<\/em> which features Cortana\u2014the player\u2019s AI companion in the single player campaign. Cortana serves a similar purpose to a narrator by providing backstory and tactical information. More importantly, in the context of this article, she serves the same function as Iwatani\u2019s \u201cHIGHSCORE\u201d because we can likewise perceive the game designer\u2019s disguised voice when Cortana gives commands such as:<\/p>\n

\u201cThey found the opening. You better get up to that relay, and fast.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPower core down. Shield\u2019s weak, but still online. Take out the other two power cores and we can access the pylon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSecond power core offline. Good job, Chief.\u201d<\/p>\n

[\u2026and so on.]<\/p>\n

\"\"
The player\u2019s want<\/em> is fulfilled in the final gameplay moments of Halo 4<\/em> (2012), by 343 Industries, when the Didact is defeated.<\/p>\n

What is the player-character\u2019s overarching motivation in Halo 4<\/em>? The want<\/em> is to defeat the Didact\u2014the game\u2019s primary antagonist who Master Chief (the player) unwittingly awakens early in the game. This want<\/em> is, unsurprisingly, fulfilled at the game\u2019s end, with the help of Cortana who sacrifices herself to save Master Chief. This unquestionable route to victory is a general trait of formal game design, which is humorously expressed in the trailer for Insomniac Games\u2019, Sunset Overdrive<\/em> (2014):<\/p>\n

“Can you save Sunset City? Of course you can! It\u2019s a f@*king video game!\u201d<\/p>\n

You could replace \u201cSunset City\u201d with the overarching objective of most story-driven games. The rationale is clear: with a formal game design structure there must be a payoff. Players can’t be expected to play through X hours of gameplay and not be rewarded with their want<\/em>. However, the downside of this structure is a loss in dramatic tension since the outcome is instinctively known to players from the outset.\u00a0<\/p>\n

But what about the player-character\u2019s need<\/em> in Halo 4<\/em>? If we examine the in-game action, alone, we find that Halo 4<\/em> demonstrates little concern for aligning the motivations of players and the playable character, Master Chief. Based on the formal structure of the game we can deduce that the need<\/em> of players is time and dedication to master Halo 4\u2019s<\/em> gameplay and \u201cunlock\u201d all cutscenes. Does Master Chief share the same need<\/em>?<\/p>\n

\"\"
The profound need<\/em> in Halo 4<\/em> (2012), by 343 Industries, is revealed after<\/em> the players want<\/em> has been fulfilled\u2014thus rendering it ineffective to the player\u2019s own experiences.<\/p>\n

Master Chief: \u201cOur duty as soldiers is to protect humanity. Whatever the cost.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lasky: \u201cYou say that like soldiers and humanity are two different things. Soldiers aren’t machines. We’re just people.\u201d<\/p>\n

[Dramatic music begins playing\u2026]<\/p>\n

Unlike Wreck-It Ralph\u2019s toughest trial, which is the external staging of his internal conflict, the player-character\u2019s need\u2014<\/em>to question their humanity\u2014is absent in the gameplay finale. Instead, the decision is made on behalf of the player, rendering the need\u2019s<\/em> revelation completely ineffective as a dramatic device. A significantly more compelling solution would have demanded that players must choose between sacrificing themselves to defeat the Didact, or allowing Cortana to sacrifice herself for a greater good\u2014thus placing the \u201cbig question\u201d in the hands of the player.<\/p>\n

\"\"
Players of Uncharted 4: A Thief\u2019s End<\/em> (2016), by Naughty Dog, achieve their want<\/em> of finding Avery\u2019s treasure at the end of the final mission in a boss fight with primary antagonist, Rafe Adler.<\/p>\n

The interactive narrative in Uncharted 4: A Thief\u2019s End<\/em> shares many of the same shortcomings as Halo 4<\/em>. Objectives are similarly implied, through the banter between Nate and his comrades\u2014Elena, Sam, and Scully\u2014during cutscenes and in-game action. The following are a few excerpts:<\/p>\n

Prologue<\/strong>
[In-game] Sam: \u201cKeep heading towards the island. I\u2019ll try to hold them off.\u201d<\/p>\n

Chapter 1: The Lure of Adventure<\/strong>
[In-game] Nate: \u201cUp and around we go [\u2026] Okay\u2026nice and quiet [\u2026] Gotta get to that window.\u201d<\/p>\n

Chapter 10: The Twelve Towers<\/strong>
[Cutscene] Nate: \u201cAlright, this route here should take us straight to the volcano.\u201d<\/p>\n

[\u2026]<\/p>\n

[In-game] Scully: \u201cSo, what are we looking for out here?\u201d<\/p>\n

Nate: \u201cWell, the map shows all these structures around the volcano. Some abandoned outposts, a handful of watch towers. [\u2026] One of those towers is right on the volcano.<\/p>\n

Scully: \u201cWith Avery\u2019s treasure?\u201d<\/p>\n

Sam: \u201cFingers crossed.\u201d<\/p>\n

As with the commands issued by Cortana in Halo 4,<\/em> the banter represents the disguised voice of the game designer, which defines the player\u2019s objectives. And, as with Halo 4,<\/em> there is a misalignment between the motivations of the player and playable character. The banter between in-game characters generates in players the want<\/em> to find Avery\u2019s treasure. During Chapter 20: No Escape, this want<\/em> is substituted by the want<\/em> to save Nate\u2019s brother, Sam, but the narrative leads player\u2019s to the treasure anyway, so the original objective is achieved. With such an objective-driven structure, the player\u2019s need<\/em> is, once again, time and dedication to master Uncharted 4\u2019s<\/em> gameplay and unlock all cutscenes.<\/p>\n

\"\"
A mostly forgettable cutscene during Chapter 19: Avery’s Descent, in Uncharted 4: A Thief\u2019s End<\/em> (2016), by Naughty Dog, is actually an important dramatic moment where players witness the awakening of Nate\u2019s hidden need<\/em> when he finds his wife, Elena, feigning death.<\/p>\n

Uncharted 4\u2019s<\/em> narrative does feature a profound need,<\/em> which is reserved for the playable character, Nate, and his tenuous commitment to married life with his wife, Elena\u2014a commitment that conflicts with his loyalty to his brother. Nate who, like Sam, doesn\u2019t know when to quit, \u201cno matter the cost to others around him,\u201d must put his love for Elena before treasure hunting. This need<\/em> is ineffectively conveyed to players through cutscenes, with Nate inconspicuously making the important realisation long before<\/u><\/em> the player\u2019s final battle at\u00a0the end of Chapter 19: Avery’s Descent<\/a>.<\/p>\n

\"\"
A more fitting ending for Uncharted 4: A Thief\u2019s End<\/em> (2016), by Naughty Dog, would have challenged the player-character\u2019s need<\/em> during Chapter 20: No Escape when Nate is ready to give-up on treasure hunting.<\/p>\n

Uncharted 4<\/em> could have challenged the player-character\u2019s need<\/em> in a more meaningful manner if the game had ended at an earlier juncture\u2014during Chapter 20: No Escape<\/a>\u2014when Nate is ready to give-up on finding Avery\u2019s treasure but his brother, Sam, wishes to fight-on. At this point Nate reflects on Sam\u2019s want<\/em> as if simultaneously commenting on the game industry’s preoccupation with reward-driven objectives: \u201cWe’re not those kids anymore. And we\u2019ve got nothing to prove.\u201d What if at this point gameplay demanded that players choose between destroying the mountain and forever losing the treasure, or going after the treasure and forever losing Elena?<\/p>\n

By comparison, action films like\u00a0Iron Man 3\u00a0<\/em>(2013) are no better at challenging the spiritual\u00a0needs\u00a0<\/em>of the protagonist (Tony Stark’s want\u00a0<\/em>to defeat the enemy versus his\u00a0need<\/em> to devote himself\u00a0to\u00a0Pepper Pots). Here, also, visceral gratification trumps spiritual fullfillment.\u00a0We should therefore be aware of the standards that we’re setting by championing games like Uncharted 4\u00a0<\/em>for their story when they’re structural comparible to an Avenger’s\u00a0<\/em>movie. Instead, such honours should go to the\u00a0games explored in the following sections.<\/em><\/p>\n

Having reviewed the wants<\/em> and needs<\/em> of players and playable characters in Halo 4,<\/em> and Uncharted 4<\/em> it is worthwhile adjusting our original definition of motivation it to fit narrative structure of these two games:<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cThe player-character is given a want<\/em><\/strong>, but obstacles must be overcome to achieve that desire, with the toughest being the final level or boss fight. In the end, the player-character gets what they want<\/em><\/strong> while the need<\/em><\/strong> is experienced by the playable character, only\u2014not the player.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is true of many AAA titles that prioritise formal game design over narrative even though their promotional trailers and cinematics suggest an emotionally-complex\u00a0narrative experience. Games are about player agency\u2014not passive viewing\u2014so the backstory of such games should be central to the player-character’s experience and expressed through their actions.<\/p>\n

The reason why we studied how player objectives are communicated\u2014via Cortana in Halo 4,<\/em> and through cutscenes and in-game banter in Uncharted 4\u2014<\/em>is to highlight the game designer\u2019s in-game communication with players, which is a key concept for understanding how the misalignment between the wants<\/em> and needs<\/em> of player\u2019s and playable character\u2019s can be solved for story-driven games. Halo 4,<\/em> and Uncharted 4<\/em> are examples of a formal dialogue between the game designer and player based on explicit objectives and consistent rules with escalating difficulty for dramatic effect.<\/em> The term I use for the role of such a game designer is the reliable gamemaster\u2014<\/em>an entity perceived within the game world that guides players to fulfil their want<\/em> with fair and open communication of the game\u2019s objectives and winning conditions.<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"
Forrest Gump<\/em> (1994), and The Usual Suspects<\/em> (1995) exemplify the unreliable narrator device.<\/p>\n

A key to solving the want<\/em> vs. need<\/em> conundrum (academically referred to as ludo-narrative dissonance<\/em>) takes inspiration from a traditional literary device called the unreliable narrator<\/em>.\u00a0An unreliable narrator is a narrator\u2014whether in literature, film, or theatre\u2014whose credibility is questionable. Sometimes the narrator’s unreliability is made immediately evident, such as the slow-witted Forrest in Forrest Gump<\/em> (1994), whose observations of the Watergate scandal and description of Apple Computers as a “fruit company” are clearly not accurate. Alternatively, the narrator\u2019s unreliability can be revealed at the story\u2019s end for greater dramatic effect\u2014such as the spectacular revelation at the end of The Usual Suspects<\/em> (1995). The gaming equivalent of the unreliable narrator, as used in Forrest Gump,<\/em> and The Usual Suspects<\/em> is experienced in two video game masterpieces by designer, Davey Wreden: The Stanley Parable<\/em> (2013), and The Beginner\u2019s Guide<\/em> (2015), respectively.<\/p>\n

\"\"
The Stanley Parable<\/em> (2011), designed by Davey Wreden and published under Galactic Cafe, is an exceptional critique of formal game design where players can actively question the game designer\u2019s authority.<\/p>\n

Players of The Stanley Parable<\/em> are accompanied by an off-screen narrator who attempts to guide the them through a sequence of actions. However, the game\u2019s level design allows players to \u201cmisbehave\u201d and choose their own path\u2014to the exasperation of the narrator who responds with comic effect. The tense dynamic between narrator and player is illustrated by the above scene<\/a> where the narrator is heard saying:<\/p>\n

Narrator: \u201cWhen Stanley came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his left.\u201d<\/p>\n

At this point the player can choose to follow the narrator\u2019s instructions, or disobey and choose the door on the right. If the player chooses the door on the right, the narrator reacts accordingly:<\/p>\n

Narrator: \u201cThis was not the correct way to the meeting room, and Stanley knew it perfectly well. Perhaps he wanted to stop by the employee lounge first, just to admire it.\u201d<\/p>\n

The narrator in The Stanley Parable<\/em> is, of course, the game designer in disguise\u2014much like Cortana in Halo 4.<\/em> Only the important difference here is that the game designer\u2019s motives are questionable and players have the option to act against designated objectives. The narrator\u2019s reliability in The Stanley Parable<\/em> is questionable from the outset while Davey Wreden\u2019s next game, The Beginner\u2019s Guide,<\/em> reveals the narrator\u2019s untrustworthiness at the end. In both cases, the role taken by Davey Wreden is that of an unreliable gamemaster<\/em>\u2014an entity perceived within the game world that conducts an informal dialogue between the game designer and player based on vague or questionable objectives for dramatic effect.<\/em><\/p>\n

How does the unreliable gamemaster concept solve our want<\/em> vs. need<\/em> conundrum, which must consolidate the objectivity of formal game design\u2019s emphasis on winning conditions, and storytelling\u2019s emphasis on the player-character\u2019s internal conflicts? By using this approach, players are encouraged to actively question their purpose in the game, which awakens their senses and makes them feel more present within the virtual world. Designers can misdirect players to a false objective (a want<\/em>) without appearing unfair, while secretly embedding the real objective\u2014the player-character\u2019s need\u2014<\/em>into gameplay. An additional benefit of the unreliable gamemaster is that the informal<\/em> dialogue between the game designer and player can generate dramatic tension as a result of the narrative\u2019s ambiguity, without resorting to escalating gameplay difficulty.<\/p>\n

\"\"
The player-character in Firewatch<\/em> (2016), by Campo Santo, wants<\/em> to solve the game\u2019s explicit objective concerning the mysterious figure that torments Henry and Delilah.<\/p>\n

Take for instance Firewatch<\/em>, by Campo Santo, which exemplifies the unreliable gamemaster concept in the form of Delilah who guides the player from one objective to the next. Unlike Cortana in Halo 4,<\/em> Delilah remains a mysterious character that the player never meets. Her role is that of a fellow victim struggling alongside the player-character to make sense of the mysterious happenings. A dialogue excerpt between Delilah and the player-character goes as follows:<\/p>\n

Delilah: Hey. You\u2026you didn\u2019t actually make that call, right? To the other lookout? It just stuck in my craw. I let myself imagine how f@*ked I would be if you\u2019d if you\u2019d been lying to me. But now that I\u2019ve asked I kinda just wish I hadn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

Henry (player-character): \u201cOf course I didn\u2019t. No way. They\u2019re just trying to pit us against each other.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"
The player-character\u2019s need<\/em> in Firewatch<\/em> (2016), by Campo Santo, is planted at the beginning of the game but soon forgotten when the want<\/em> becomes the primary objective of gameplay.<\/p>\n

Delilah assists the player-character in solving Firewatch\u2019s<\/em> explicit objective, which is to solve the mystery of the strange figure who torments the two characters with actions that include ransacking Henry\u2019s watch tower, and framing them for starting a forest fire. This want<\/em> is fulfilled by the game\u2019s end and the mystery is solved. However, on reflection, players of Firewatch<\/em> will realise that the ultimate goal is not the explicit objective that they\u2019ve been pursuing. The objective is, in fact, a need<\/em> to empathise with victims of dementia\u2014a fact that was hidden in plane sight all along.<\/p>\n

In the heartrending opening of Firewatch,<\/em> players learn that Henry\u2019s wife, Julia, falls victim to an early onset of dementia. The eventual fate of Julia is what leads Henry to become a fire watch lookout. Framed in this context, the player\u2019s experience of dislocation, fear and confusion as a victim of the mysterious figure is analogous to somebody experiencing dementia. Player\u2019s therefore experience empathy through a gameplay form of allegory, because the playable character, Henry, can be said to represent his wife, Julia. The ability to interactively experience themes as complex as dementia is what makes video games such a powerful artistic medium.<\/p>\n

\"\"
The setting of Gone Home<\/em> (2013), by The Fullbright Company, is used to misdirect players into thinking their objective is to discover the dead bodies of Sam and Lonnie.<\/p>\n

Gone Home<\/em>, by The Fullbright Company, also uses a variation of the unreliable gamemaster to misdirect players towards a false objective. The game has players following a breadcrumb trail of audio diaries and written notes that gradually reveal a love story afflicted with teenage angst, social pressure and parental disapproval. Fairly unremarkable storytelling. What makes the experience special is that the game\u2019s setting resembles a haunted house, replete with a spooky boiler in the basement, empty hallways and occult motifs. Immersed in this setting, players expect to experience the hallmarks of a horror story, such as jump scares and a bloody ending. However, by the game\u2019s end they are rewarded with genuine catharsis when they fulfil the explicit objective\u2014the want\u2014<\/em>and learn that the love story has a happy ending. The hidden need<\/em> is revealed to be the overarching experience of navigating the haunted house-style setting (an \u201cunreliable environment,\u201d to put it another way), which generates feelings of fear and isolation that are analogous to the experiences of an 18 year-old girl experiencing the uncertainty of her first love and sexuality.<\/p>\n

What Firewatch,<\/em> and Gone Home<\/em> have in common is an explicit objective that motivates players to act and a second, more meaningful hidden objective. In hindsight, players realise this latter, hidden objective, was embedded in gameplay and evident all along\u2014like a successful plot twist. The unreliable gamemaster therefore allows us to successfully reconcile the original definition of character motivation\u2014as demonstrated by Wreck-It Ralph<\/em>\u2014with story-driven game design:<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cThe player-character is given a want<\/em><\/strong>, but obstacles must be overcome to achieve that desire, with the final obstacle heralding the player\u2019s hidden need<\/em><\/strong> (such as empathy for the playable character). In the end, the player-character experiences what they need<\/em><\/strong> but not necessarily what they want<\/em><\/strong>.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"\"\u00a0
INSIDE<\/em> (2016), by Playdead, demonstrates another variant of the unreliable gamemaster in which exposition is avoided altogether\u2014leaving the task of interpretation entirely to players.<\/p>\n

Another effective variation of the unreliable gamemaster is to remain silent, as in INSIDE<\/em> (2016), by Playdead, which generates many questions through it\u2019s visual design and staging but offers no answers. Irrespective of the exact techniques employed, you\u2019ll find that a large majority of emotionally meaningful games to have emerged in recent years\u2014including Braid, The Last of Us, Portal 2<\/em>, The Beginner\u2019s Guide, and<\/em> Her Story<\/em>\u2014<\/em>utilize the unreliable gamemaster concept.<\/p>\n

But, to be fair to 343 Industries\u00a0and Naughty Dog\u2014the developers of Halo 4<\/em>, and the Uncharted<\/em> series, respectively\u2014developing multi-million dollar games is very risky business considering the work involved to produce such high quality gameplay and graphics. Which is why it makes for a safer financial bet to stick to tried and tested formulas to meet the target audience\u2019s expectations of big boss fights, action set pieces and explicit rewards. Additionally, imagine the difficulty of developing a sequel to Uncharted 4<\/em> if Naughty Dog had indeed given players two options to finish the game\u2014requiring narrative designers to account for both outcomes. Series like Call of Duty, Assassin\u2019s Creed,<\/em> and Batman Arkham<\/em> all fall into this same category of video game storytelling, consisting of a narrative wrapped\u00a0around what is clearly a formal game design structure. This works for formal gameplay franchises like the Mario\u00a0<\/em>series, but not in self-proclaimed story-driven games. No matter how glossy the cinematics and set pieces may appear\u2014the formal roots of these games are very much intact.<\/p>\n

\"\"
Uncharted 4: A Thief\u2019s End<\/em> (2016), by Naughty Dog, bravely features gameplay vignettes that offer players a more emotionally-rounded experience than if the game focused purely on action-adventure.<\/p>\n

It is of no surprise that innovation in storytelling is strongest within the indie game scene where development costs are significantly lower and target audiences more open to new and surprising experiences. AAA is taking note, nonetheless, as evidenced with the gameplay vignettes<\/em> scattered at a few points in Uncharted 4<\/em> (the salvage diving, and Crash Bandicoot<\/em> sections, for instance). These vignettes give players a more rounded and emotionally-meaningful interactive peak into Nathan Drake\u2019s family life\u2014particularly the ending where players take control of Nate\u2019s daughter, Cassie. Gameplay moments like these are an important primer for the existing target audience of such games\u2014opening-up player expectations to the direction that storytelling in games will inevitably take as game development and the player audience matures.<\/p>\n

Formal game design focuses on objective<\/em> (as opposed to subjective<\/em>) rules and player goals. These game mechanics are great at motivating players to action\u2014to explore and interact with the game world. However, in the context storytelling, game mechanics also have their shortcomings because they gratify the player\u2019s material wants<\/em> by virtue of their tangible qualities. \u00a0<\/p>\n

Storytellers in mediums such as film are well aware that the greatest narrative tool is the audience\u2019s imagination. The same is true of video games where the player\u2019s imagination has the greatest freedom to subjectively (mis-)interpret the rigid structure of game rules. While game mechanics are great at motivating players to act, it\u2019s game art (visual design, voice acting, music, etc.) that can make something as simple as going from point A to point B feel treacherous, cheerful, solemn, lonely\u2026<\/p>\n

Like the traditional artist who should not mistake the brushwork for the painting, obsessing over the player\u2019s mastery of technical gameplay should never overshadow their aesthetic experience of the story.<\/h2>\n

The next generation of game designers should therefore aspire to develop a greater understanding of traditional art forms; their aesthetic scope and interconnectedness; to appreciate the strengths of informal game design for stimulating the player\u2019s imagination; to enable player-choice; and avoid\u00a0exposition where possible. In essence, to be unreliable gamemasters\u2014using storytelling techniques inspired by the above case studies to antagonize, mislead and silently direct players towards experiencing a hidden need<\/em> at the game\u2019s dramatic climax. In hindsight, player\u2019s will come to reflect on a gameplay experience and realise that clues hinting at their need<\/em> were embedded in gameplay all along\u2014directly beneath their noses\u2014in the same way that Wreck-It Ralph\u2019s want<\/em> blindly guides him towards the realisation that a medal doesn\u2019t make a hero.<\/em> In storytelling it\u2019s more often the journey, not the destination, that matters.<\/p>\n

—<\/p>\n

About the author<\/h2>\n

Chris Solarski (SOLARSKI STUDIO<\/a>) is an expert\u00a0on art and storytelling in video games. His first book\u2014Drawing Basics and Video Game Art<\/em>\u00a0<\/a>(Watson-Guptill 2012) is endorsed by id cofounder, John Romero, and has been translated into Japanese and Korean. His second book\u2014Interactive Stories and Video Game Art<\/em><\/a>\u00a0(CRC Press 2016)\u2014has been described as gaming’s equivalent to\u00a0Story<\/em>, the classic book on screenwriting by Robert McKee, and endorsed by Hollywood film director, Marc Forster. Chris has given talks worldwide, including the Smithsonian’s landmark\u00a0The Art of Video Games<\/em>\u00a0exhibition, SXSW, GDC Europe, and FMX. He is currently collaborating with internationally renowned artist, Phil Hale<\/a>, to develop an indie game based on the\u00a0Johnny Badhair<\/em>\u00a0series of paintings<\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The following blog post, unless otherwise noted, was written by a member of Gamasutra\u2019s community.The thoughts and opinions expressed are those of the writer and not Gamasutra or its parent company. Copyright \u00a92017 Chris Solarski (SOLARSKI STUDIO) My\u00a0second book was recently published by CRC Press. Titled,\u00a0Interactive Stories and Video Game Art, I’m very proud that […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":12594,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[20],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12593","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-news"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sickgaming.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12593","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sickgaming.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sickgaming.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sickgaming.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sickgaming.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12593"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/sickgaming.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12593\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sickgaming.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/12594"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sickgaming.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12593"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sickgaming.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12593"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sickgaming.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12593"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}

Thanks again to the generous support of SAE Institute Zurich<\/a>, and game designers, Claudia Molinari and Matteo Pozzi (We Are M\u00fcesli<\/a>), and Madlaina Kalunder for their invaluable feedback. To stay updated about my latest work you\u2019re welcome to follow me on Facebook<\/a> and Twitter<\/a>.<\/p>\n

We find that Master Chief\u2019s need<\/em> is much more profound, however, it\u2019s mostly set-up and delivered through\u00a0cutscenes\u2014such as mid-game scene in which Cortana pleads: \u201c…before this is all over, promise me you’ll figure out which one of us is the machine.\u201d Another crucial point is that the need<\/em> finds closure in an epilogue cutscene after<\/u><\/em> the player\u2019s final encounter with the Didact. During a sombre discussion with Captain Lasky, a battle-worn Master Chief laments the loss of his AI companion<\/a>:<\/p>\n