The Writers’ Bloc: Narrative in Games

“I don’t know of any books that have been written that go into the depth that [books about] film writing have done,” says Cecil.  “I don’t think there’s any doubt that, when it comes to film writing, it’s much better understood.  And on that basis, I think it’s probably just a gut instinct that requires you to understand the rules.  If you can write a good story, that’s great. How you apply it to games – that’s the art.”

//What’s the story?
But what does narrative in videogames consist of?  And what role do writers actually play in delivering this?  The panel’s speakers have conflicting views on such issues.

“People are used to hearing us say you have to bring [writers] in early,” says Walton.  “If you can marry narrative and gameplay, that’s a very important thing.”  But writers are most often approached right at the end of a project, he reveals, with the role of simply tidying up dialogue.  “That’s inherently dangerous,” he says, as the story from which they’re working might be – as he puts it – “limited in its brilliance.”

“I think it’s absolutely insane not to bring writers in at the very beginning,” agrees Cecil.  But he’s less certain of whether getting the writing spot-on is the most pressing concern in games development.  “The most important thing is the gameplay,” he says.  “If it ain’t fun, people aren’t going to play it.”

“I agree that gameplay comes first,” adds Walsh, “but that often gets translated in the industry as ’story doesn’t matter’.”  And while he’s careful to point out that he doesn’t think writing for games is necessarily worse than a lot of writing in film or television, he is keen to push the relevance of a strong narrative within the medium.  “People always say ‘what about Tetris? That doesn’t have a story, and that’s great.’  Yeah, if you want to play blocks falling from the sky.”

John Dennis makes an alarmed noise.  “What’s the story of Lemmings?” he asks.  “There isn’t one.  It doesn’t matter.  It went platinum.”

The panel debate for a while over whether that’s true.  Though Lemmings may not have followed a predefined plot, does that mean players would not infer a story from the events of the game?  There’s disagreement.  Walsh points to open-world sandbox games, and the time spent experimenting and exploring between missions.  “I love Grand Theft Auto,” he says, “but I’m not telling a story.”

Marek Walton isn’t so sure.  “[In World of Warcraft] some of the best moments I’ve had came through interactions with other players.  And they are narrative moments.  We [writers] are there to help players create stories as much as anything.”

//Happily married
So where do videogames sit among the spectrum of media?  Are there any comparisons that can help us better our understanding of games writing?  At this year’s Develop, Denis Dyack said we should be looking towards film for inspiration; later, I ask the panel for their thoughts on this, and while they agree that games can be influenced by other areas of entertainment, they’d be keen not to simply ape them (Cecil, Walsh and Walton seem physically repulsed by the filmic stylings of Metal Gear Solid and Fahrenheit).

The conversation moves to an age-old debate.  “There have been so many articles by so many people on whether games can make you cry that it’s almost a cliché now,” says Cecil.  “The problem is, film and television is all about empathy.”  But with games, he says, the addition of elements of challenge, and the frequent focus the protagonist to the exclusion of an omnipresent antagonist, means there’s a disconnect.  “And getting in Hollywood writers is absolutely the wrong solution,” he says.  “It’s all about the constraints of the medium, and we know more about that than Hollywood writers do.”

Marek Walton is unsure whether this is even the right direction to take.  “I don’t sit down to play a game and think ‘I’m going to have a bloody good sob here,’ he says.  “Maybe games aren’t designed to make us cry.  I want to care about them, but not necessarily sob.”

The speakers discuss the times when a game has moved them in this way, and there’s a theme emerging.  Walton didn’t feel sad when (it makes sense to reiterate his own SPOILER warning) his dog died at the end of Fable 2.  Nor was Walsh – he didn’t care about the dog. But he was moved by Aeris’ demise in Final Fantasy VII.  Why?  Because she “cared for you as a gameplay item,” he says.  “She’s not just a ‘buddy’.”

This seems to be something the panel are all in agreement over: the marriage of narrative and gameplay is essential in creating a successful story-driven experience.  Without it, we’re either copying other media, or failing to deliver the necessary impact.  “One of the main reasons narrative fails in games is breakdown in communication from one side, the other, or both,” says Andy Walsh, talking about the conflict between design and writing.  And that, thinks Cecil, is why the most successful games need a visionary who watches over both, maintaining the balance, and ensuring story and interaction can work together to create something only a videogame could ever achieve.

Pages: 1 2