Ripburger, you’re dumber than dirt. Take your flunky and dangle.
I watched the Coen brothers’ Prohibition-era gangster flick Miller’s Crossing at the Castro the other evening. I’ve seen it enough at this point that I’ve internalized the interpersonal connections and intricate subplots, and can focus entirely on appreciation when I watch it.
In particular, I want to point out the introductory scene, which sets up the relationships and general convictions behind local boss Leo O’Bannon and up-and-coming rival Johnny Caspar. Even if you aren’t entirely sure what all they’re discussing, the scene completely frames these two men in a way that informs your perception of them for the remainder of the film.
This is reminiscent to me of the opening scene from Tim Schafer’s brilliant 1995 biker adventure, Full Throttle. The game actually begins with a brief narration by anti-hero Ben, but it is the following exchange between villain Adrian Ripburger (with a wonderfully slimy performance by Mark Hamill) and narrative linchpin Malcolm Corley to which I refer.As in Miller’s Crossing, both scenes feature a heated discussion between men who are clearly antagonistic towards one another, but are engaged in a business relationship and are on personal speaking terms. Again, their words and manner towards one another–Corley’s distrustful and begrudging respect, and Ripburger’s calculating condescension–concisely set up their dynamic going forward.
As far as I’m concerned, Full Throttle is the finest narrative ever to grace a video game, at least out of the games I have encountered. That is not to say it is the best interactive narrative, because it is not, or that it particularly takes advantage of the integration of gameplay and narrative (it is an adventure game after all). But it does, I believe, display the best grasp of character, plot, subtle metaphor, pacing, and, crucially, concise and meaningful writing.
I could go into, and have gone into elsewhere, Full Throttle’s achievement as a melancholy reflection on the American frontier and its conflict with corporate industrialization, but that’s not really the point of this post. As demonstrated above, Schafer knows how to convey a lot of meaning and resonance without too many words, and that’s something I wish more game writers would get into their heads.Full Throttle is kind of a triple threat in its inadvertent indictment of most game writing. Not only is it an expertly crafted piece of writing with a lot below the surface, it does it in a genre unusual to games–neo-noir murder thriller, or something–with a setting and characters unusual to games. Even most of the games that hit closer to the mark narratively tend to fall more within the usual bounds: space stations, fantasy kingdoms, near-future cyborg dystopias, or other typical genre trappings.
Some criticized Full Throttle for being too short. I say it didn’t wear out its welcome. It did what it needed to do, and it was done. Like Portal. I rarely finish games, because they rarely have much to say in the gameplay arena (and certainly in the narrative arena) for their entire length. Full Throttle did what it needed to do, did it well, and then ended things on one of the most breathtaking and tightly-wrapped notes ever seen in the repertoire of game endings. (Again, in this vein of satisfying conciseness, see Portal.)
If you haven’t played Full Throttle, and have any interest in great writing in games, seek it out. It can be easily and inexpensively acquired via eBay, and made to run on just about any operating system you can imagine (I’m not kidding) via ScummVM. Thank me later.
Tags: full throttle, narrative, take your flunky and dangle, tim schafer, writing
March 6th, 2008 at 7:30 am
I remember when I finished Full Throttle for the first time. I was on the verge of whatever emotions lead to tears, for both the accomplishments of myself and Ben, but also because of the tragedy. I emailed someone at LucasArts telling them I thought the game was too short, (although as I’ve aged I find myself sharing the same outlook as you on the length), and if there would be a sequel. In 1995 people actually emailed you back, and they did. They thanked me and said nothing was planned. Those were the days.
March 6th, 2008 at 7:49 am
Well said, Remo. Do you have experience with other forms of narrative that are more interactive? I have never really been attracted to Role Playing Games or even finished a Choose Your Own Adventure book. And my limited experience with hyperfiction was pretty unsatisfying (maybe you can recommend a good hyperfiction story?)… Yet, adventure games I find totally attractive. In part because so many of them are beautifully crafted visually, but also because I can expect good stories from them. I’m not sure you can say that about true (hardcore?) interactive fiction.
So my question boils down to this… would you prefer to see a more authentically interactive experience, where the player might come to different conclusions depending on his\her many choices, OR, an experience more in line with classic adventure dynamics but essentially updated to work with modern 3d technology (3rd or 1st person explorable worlds). For example, in one category we maybe have Fable, Mass Effect, Far Cry 2(?) .. and in the other Kings Quest, Full Throttle, Sam & Max.
My question actually goes out to anyone who would like to share their opinion. Which type of game do you realistically find more appealing?
March 6th, 2008 at 7:56 am
Chris Makris:
I believe that linear narrative in games will, at least from a literary perspective, remain more satisfying than dynamic narrative in the near term–not that that’s saying much, in the case of most game fiction. However, as I implied in my Far Cry 2 post earlier, I believe it is extremely important for designers to continue progressing in the realm of dynamic and interactive narrative, as it is a type of storytelling unique to games.
However, what I think is potentially even more important, at least right now, is for game designers and writers to work on achieving successful contextual narrative, such as what is seen in games like BioShock. BioShock’s narrative is not at all dynamic, but it still exploits intrinsic properties of video games such as exploration. The clues throughout the world paint a larger picture for the player, and reward the player’s own active interest. Unlike dynamic narrative, this does not require any more complex technology than what we have, and yet most games still do not exploit it like they should.
March 11th, 2008 at 6:36 am
Thanks for your response, I agree entirely.
It’s interesting when you consider a story as being ‘a sequence of events’ because, when applied to games, it really helps to simplify the approach to narrative design. Any shooter can be considered to have a story. What essentially seperates Half-Life from Quake is the inclusion of actual characters. That bumps Half-Life up a few notches, but it is still a game that is based on the gun mechanic. Same with Mass Effect. I think these developers need to trying avoiding this mechanic right from the outset. It would do wonders for their creativity.
Does anyone else ever watch movies and make mental notes about when some action performed in the movie would actually work well, if not better, within a game?