Choice-based Games: Placing Aesthetics Over Playability
From the earliest computer programs conceived in the 1950s, video games have undergone a rapid and extensive evolution. We’d hardly believe that the scenic masterpieces coming out today, like Grand Theft Auto V (2013) and Assassin’s Creed II (2009), are not so distant ancestors of simple arcade fixtures like Pong (1972) and Space Invaders (1978). These evolutions aren’t always progressively linear — sometimes retro graphics come back in style, as in Hotline Miami (2012), or entirely new avenues are explored creating something bizarrely different, like Paratopic (2018). One trend seen recently in video games is the choice-based narrative — a trend that, for better or worse, threatens to blur the lines between video games and cinema.
There’s always been a clear divide between video games and cinema. Video games have a significant interactive element wherein the player is immersed in the playing of the game. Audiences are often immersed in cinema too, but interactivity is very rarely a crucial element. In the rare instances where it has been included, like Black Mirror: Bandersnatch (2018), it’s minimal and not well-received by everyone.
People evidently like that clear divide that separates cinema from video games. The fact that it’s only recently being bridged is quite telling — that, naturally, the two don’t quite go together despite their similarities. After all, truly immersive cinema can be ruined if too much, or indeed any, interactivity is required. On the other side, truly immersive video games can be ruined with too many cutscenes. That isn’t to say that cutscenes don’t have their place in video games — they’ve been a part of them from the beginning, if only for the sake of the narrative the game is telling.
And both video games and films are fertile grounds for experimental storytelling. That’s why the two can be mixed to varying degrees and, while not always successful, it is always interesting. That aforementioned modern trend sweeping the gaming landscape, the choice-based narrative, can perhaps be considered experimental in itself, with how new it is. While the genre has seen some great success in its own right, it can limit gameplay rather than enhance it, and in the grand scheme of things, it isn’t a genre that many studios have decided to play with.
The trend was originally pioneered by Quantic Dream with their selection of games including Heavy Rain (2010), Beyond: Two Souls (2013), and Detroit: Become Human (2018). Telltale Games were quick to follow with their The Walking Dead (2012) series, The Wolf Among Us (2013), and Batman: The Telltale Series (2016). One of the more well-known installations of this genre is perhaps Life is Strange (2015), followed by Life is Strange 2 (2018) and Life is Strange: True Colours (2021). Finally, Supermassive Games have carved out a name for themselves within this genre, with Until Dawn (2015), The Quarry (2022), and their The Dark Pictures Anthology, comprised of four games released between 2019 and 2022.
These games are enjoyable because, not only are they all just great games, the ability to choose often makes the experience more immersive. Seeing your decisions have actual ramifications in the world of the game is a novelty beyond just following a linear narrative. It’s interesting to see all of the different ways in which these stories can branch, how far their extremes can be pushed. How good can you be? How evil can you be? How will it all end? And how will the choices you’ve made affect that end? Granted, there’s only so much free will you can have in any video game, even when you’re given the illusion of choice, but it’s still a refreshing change from traditional video games.
The vast majority of these choice-based games have been well-received, with incredibly high ratings for the most part. Far be it for me to say what makes a game good, or enjoyable. Even a lifetime of gaming doesn’t make me an expert on the subject. However, the most recent of these games, specifically The Devil Within Me (the latest instalment in The Dark Pictures Anthology) and The Quarry, both by Supermassive Games, seem to be lacking, enough to raise a question about choice-based games as a whole.
That isn’t to say that the games aren’t technically good. What Supermassive Games achieve in terms of motion capture animation and their twisting, turning narratives is to be applauded. Even the lowest rated game of theirs — which incidentally happens to be The Devil Within Me — still received a decent 6/10 on Steam. I’ve played all of their games and I can’t say there’s one I didn’t enjoy, generally speaking. But what these video games do — and what the two mentioned above are pushing more directly — is challenge our idea of how a video game should be defined.
I’ve discussed in a previous article that art is a hard thing to pin down, and that goes for all branches of art, including video games, which are undoubtedly an art form in their own right. That is to say that the definition of video games will be broad and general, because video games are constantly crossing any number of boundaries in the name of art. That’s evident with choice-based games in particular, given that they were considered revolutionary when Quantic Dream brought out Heavy Rain over a decade ago.
When defining video games, one thing we can perhaps all agree on is that video games always include some level of interactivity. If they don’t, then they’re better defined as films. Again, while those lines do cross, there has to be at least some interactivity, some playability, for that video game definition to stick. Pong, one of the earliest video games, and a much more recent one like Horizon Zero Dawn (2017) are vastly different in every way, but they’re both heavily interactive. Ignoring the various sub-genres within the definition, these two things will always be tied together through the fact they’re both video games.
Undeniably then, The Devil Within Me and The Quarry, as well as any other choice-based game, are video games by definition. The point here is not to dispute what they are, but rather how they push the aforementioned boundary between video games and cinema. I think it’s safe to say that nobody would consider any choice-based game purely cinematic, no matter how many cutscenes they have — there’s enough interactivity in any of them to dispute that, just as Bandersnatch escapes the strict definition of film with its own interactive element. But the cinematic element within these games, especially The Quarry, is so extensive that its interactivity is almost pushed aside in favour of it.
To be general, this is a problem that plagues many choice-based games and was a common complaint about even the earliest of them, Heavy Rain. Perhaps it’s an unfair observation to make, considering the heavy focus on narrative almost demands more cinematics and exposition. But choice-based instalments like The Stanley Parable (2013), with a notable lack of cutscenes, prove that this isn’t necessarily true. An extensive cinematic aspect is simply an artistic choice made by the game developers of almost every other choice-based game, perhaps to make storytelling as easy as possible, perhaps to show off the aforementioned impressive visuals. Either way, it’s safe to say that it’s also the choice that sacrifices interactivity, the one defining feature of a video game we all universally enjoy, in favour of aesthetics.
Of course, cutscenes have their place in video games and have always been a feature, even in early games like Pac-man (1980). The difference is that many modern games seem to place more importance on cutscenes than ever before. That is perhaps a symptom of the overall emphasis shifting from gameplay to characterisation and plot, a shift that is generally welcomed when done well, as in The Last of Us (2013). And naturally, where the emphasis will be depends on the type of game we’re playing. The kind of cutscenes we see in the likes of Until Dawn wouldn’t feature in a Mario instalment, because the emphasis there is on the gameplay.
But, while favouring aesthetics over interactivity isn’t necessarily a problem, it is an indicator of where gaming is headed. Platforming has been dying a slow death — the glory days of games like Crash Bandicoot (1996), Spyro the Dragon (1998) and Mega Bomberman (1994) have long since gone, with interactive movies now chiefly wearing the crown. Even the iconic platformer, Tomb Raider (1996), was given the cinematic treatment in 2013, with the rebooted Tomb Raider, featuring a modern Lara complete with tragic backstory, all fleshed out through the game’s many cinematic sequences. That’s not to say the rebooted games are bad, but they further illustrate my point that this cinematic trend is sweeping widely.
Perhaps, though, as someone who grew up in the tail end of the 90s, I’m simply espousing a biased view. As I’ve said, I have nothing against cinematic, or choice-based games. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed each and every one I’ve played. But they do represent a new era of gaming, one completely different to what I experienced as a child and thus, feel nostalgic for. Sometimes, I do miss the simple platformers that required little to no emotional connection, but a lot of skill (or patience). Sometimes, I miss the distinction between black and white, between hero, and villain. Sometimes, I miss the basics.
It’s a bygone era of simplicity, where video games and cinema were neatly divided. Don’t get me wrong, I likethat that boundary has been muddled slightly with this proliferation of cinematic modern games, but the trend is quickly threatening to become the norm. Certainly, advances in technology have made it increasingly easy to give any game a great look, and it makes sense — nobody would keep 8-bit graphics around in 2023. And there are, admittedly, a number of modern platformers that are plenty of fun as well as being gorgeous to look at, like Super Mario Odyssey (2017). But I can only hope that interactivity is removed from the sacrificial altar sooner rather than later. Aesthetics are impressive, and important in gaming to a degree, but putting them above interactivity is a huge blunder.
