Assignment 1A: Who Are You?

Hello, my name is John Wheeler and I am a gamer.

Ordinarily, this term is used to describe someone who plays games as their main form of entertainment. But when it's applied to a creative person, this label takes on whole new meaning- the "Gamer" is a creator, a constructor, a maker of worlds. A musician may make a wonderful song and a writer may create a compelling story, but only in video games can one take an idea and truly have it blossom into a complete world where their audience can immerse themselves.

The writer may create a world, yes, but does the reader insert themselves into it? Only mentally, having to supply their own audio and visual elements. The director may tell a story, but can he put the audience into the mind of a character? Of course he can, but the audience doesn't control the character, they simply watch- they're on the outside looking in. At the end of a film, do they say "I shot six hundred Nazis and saved the world!"? At the end of a game, one says "I defeated the sixty-foot-tall space beast from Hell and rescued the girl!". There's just something about guiding that character from beginning to end and being with him or her every step of the way that makes a video game a unique experience.

Now that that little soapbox is out of the way, you know what kind of creative person I am...and yet you don't. I've simply said I'm a gamer. This, however, is not exactly a precise title. From space marine to portly plumber, there are too many types of games out there to classify oneself to one type, genre, or setting. What can be used to classify someone is their influences and what games inspire them.

Obviously I'm going to listen to my own advice and use those.

Over the years games have been realistic and ridiculous, bone-crushingly difficult and walk-in-the-park easy, original and formulaic, and more. I prefer the games that take full advantage of what the medium allows them to do- anything. While a hyper-realistic war shooter has its place, in my opinion they're uncreative and boring. A truly inspiring game, to me, must separate itself from this boring reality we're all stuck in and transport me to a new world, one that interests me both visually and conceptually.

My first example is a multiplatform title from a few years ago, Psychonauts. Created by Double Fine, Psychonauts is a platformer/action game that stars Raz, a young camper and aspiring Psychonaut, mysterious agents with (obviously) psychic powers and training. The game focuses Raz's adventures at summer training camp and the mysterious events that unfold once campers start disappearing. While the settings and characters are all fantastically done, it's the main concept of the gameplay that fascinates me the most. There are no "levels" in the real world- early on, Raz obtains a special psychic door that, once placed on someone's head, allows him to venture into their minds. This concept opens up infinite possibilities for levels and characters. While not every character's mind can be explored, the ones you do explore vary wildly and are all beautifully-crafted. From Coach Oleander's military-style training course and tutorial level to Fred Bonaparte's board-game-like match with the spirit of his ancestor Napoleon, nothing ever gets stale. The contrast between the character's (relatively) normal outer image and the sometimes warped or hidden things you find in their minds creates much deeper characters- they aren't cardboard cut-outs with cookie-cutter personalities. Even the characters whose minds you can't explore are quite fleshed-out if you go and talk to them when you can.

This trailer, while having a slightly generic announcer, contains quite a bit of the game's unique and brilliant humor, art design and characters.

Next, I'm going to go from one game with a fantastic plot and world to another almost without one. Team Fortress 2 is a multiplayer First-Person Shooter by Valve. In the game, two teams of nine types of suspiciously-identical mercenaries fight each other for intelligence and dominance of nondescript areas. As you might guess, the plot isn't exactly the focus of this game. What is the focus of TF2 is well-polished gameplay and recognizable character, weapon and map design. Give someone about half an hour with the game and they can name every class from half the map away by just looking at their silhouette and equipment. Each of the nine characters is extremely distinct, in looks, equipment and personality. The exaggerated art style let the game designers make the important things about a character or an environment pop out- the weapons and shape of an enemy class, for example. It's impossible to confuse the Heavy Weapons Guy's hulking frame, massive minigun and Russian rumble with the Scout's wiry build, compact shotgun and brash Bostonian accent. The Sniper's quiet laid-back/psychopathic personality is impossible to confuse with the Demoman's rowdy drunken shouting. Every class's combination of looks, weapons and personality lets the player subconsciously know what the class's job, actions and threat level are. Looking at the Spy's small frame, small gun and listening to his controlled and smooth Franco-Spanish-everythingish accent, you can tell that in a straight fight, he won't do very well, and that he usually catches his opponents unaware. The Heavy's enormous size, both of the man himself and his gun, send a clear message that you should stay far away from him if possible, and that, while slow, he is a huge threat. Every aspect of the game's design is fine-tuned to send a message to players.

From left to right: The Pyro, Engineer, Spy, Heavy, Sniper, Scout, Soldier, Demoman and Medic


The last game that I find is a great influence is a recent title called Amnesia: The Dark Descent. Created by a small company call Frictional Games, Amnesia is a survival horror game based in a 19th century castle. As a young man named Daniel who loses his memory before the game starts by imbibing a potion, you're driven deep into the old and damaged castle by lingering scraps of memory and notes left by your past self. Along the way you discover that the castle holds horrific secrets and terrifying locations, surviving on his wits and stealth alone. The game's use of tension and release is astounding and done with pinpoint precision. Since you have no way to defend yourself, the "survival" aspect of the game is much more prominent than in most games that share the title. Hiding and avoidance are the only tools you have to fight off the beasts inside the castle. The pitch-black corridors and chambers of the dungeons and rooms of the castle is offset by the sounds, both nearby and in the distance, both real and created by your slipping sanity, that you hear around you. Crouching in the darkness lets you hide yourself, but at the same time the darkness drains your rather sparse sanity. You'll have to choose between either staying hidden and slowly going insane, unable to differentiate between the reality of the abomination down the hall or the illusion of the screaming echoing down the corridor, or staying in the light, visible to whatever horror actually lurks in the area. You can never really be sure if an area besides a hub is safe. However, while it would seem that the player would never stop being terrified, but the game is spaced so that safe areas come at perfect moments to let the player stop, catch their breath, and admire the beauty of the decaying castle. For example, just as the player has exited the prison, a terrifying area where both horrifying creatures and terrifying visions lurk, they emerge in the Cistern. The Cistern is a quiet area with very few dangers and just a few puzzles that impede your progress... as far as I know. I'm still at the start of one area in the Cistern, the Morgue.
I'm not going in there.

Warning: viewing this trailer alone or in the dark may cause unwanted soiling of pants.


So that's it: a small sampling of games that inspire me to create- to create worlds that are more than they seem, to create worlds that are recognizable, and most importantly, to create a world that nobody will ever forget.