• the217
• Life
• Video games as art...or not?

Last week’s column left a bitter taste in my mouth. My personal feelings on the subject tread the line between taking video games too seriously and dismissing them as a meaningless pastime. Some of my fondest memories of my family are gathering around the TV in our living room, playing Sonic the Hedgehog or Goldeneye.

Video games have become potently absorbed into the fabric of global culture since the 1980s, far more than most may realize. An example: Halo 3, the final entry in the popular franchise was realized on September 25, 2007. That week the game grossed over $300 million, outselling the opening night of Spider-Man 3 (the second highest-grossing opening of all time, behind The Dark Knight) and even the launch of the final installment of the Harry Potter series.

I’m not at all trying to imply that video games are larger than literature or films, but instead trying to argue that they have transcended their role as mildly entertaining to artistic form. In doing research for this article, I came upon a Newsweek article by Jack Kroll, in which he states that “games can be fun and rewarding in many ways, but they can’t transmit the emotional complexity that is the root of art.” The humble beginnings of video games took root in simple games like Pong and Pac-Man, which were entertaining distractions, treading lightly into the emerging puddle of video games.

It wasn’t long before this puddle became a pond. The Nintendo Entertainment System hit the market and Super Mario Bros. became an international sensation. Advances in technology allowed for Nintendo to craft this epic of a hero’s journey. All the ingredients are there. Our hero (Mario) must traverse brutal landscapes and dungeons, slaughter his enemies (Goombas and Koopa Troopas) using his strength and cunning (the A button) and finally face his antagonistic foe (Bowser) in battle before rescuing the object of his desires and affections (the Princess).

I’m overly inflating the simplicity of Mario, of course, but to illustrate my point: elements of story-telling and the player’s emotional entanglement with that story are present almost from the genesis of the art form. The genre was still in its infancy however, and it was the player’s responsibility to fill in the blanks left behind by the game.

Why did Bowser kidnap the Princess? Why is it up to Mario to save her? Why, when Mario picks up a glowing red flower, does he gain the power to wield flames at his finger tips? Bowser was evil. Mario must be her boyfriend. Because Mario wouldn’t want to touch a power-up that looked like a giant fireball. These questions that inevitably arise gave way immediately under the weight of the fun being had by the player.

As time went on, video games continued their evolution. Graphics became better, deep stories began developing, musical scores became more elaborate. New, faster, more capable consoles were released to parallel the development of the industry. Controllers went from a rectangle with a directional pad and two buttons to bizarre shapes contoured to fit comfortably in hand while manipulating a trigger, several buttons and a joy stick. The pond became a lake, then an ocean. People can completely submerge themselves in it, and some have to take caution not to drown.

If art is the ceaseless attempt to provoke and illicit sincere and meaningful emotional response, video games are a profound form of art. Synthesizing music, cinema, elements of literature, and the submergence of the self into one engaging piece creates a formula which fulfills those criteria exactly. I could cite at dozens of examples of when my breath was caught in my throat during a video game.

Walking into a freezer past decaying, frozen corpses hanging on meat hooks when one detaches itself and draws a rattling breath in Resident Evil 4. Plummeting down a submarine into the horrifically destroyed utopia of Rapture in Bioshock. Steering a warthog through the exploding labyrinth of a ship about to self-destruct in Halo. Grabbing elusive that last chaos emerald in Sonic the Hedgehog. Watching Tidus and Yuna share a deep kiss on their last night together while starlight dances across the spring they collapse into in Final Fantasy X. I’ve been frightened to have the lights off, palms sweating while playing games. I’ve been literally on the edge of my seat, chewing my lip in nervous anticipation while playing games. I’ve had a tear roll down my cheek while playing games.

The evolution from nerdy pastime to unique storytelling device fully realizes the developing industry as a work of art (though it is still kind of a nerdy pastime).

This is a topic I’d like some feedback on from the217 community. Agree, disagree? Let me know in the comments.