For
several years, the debate has raged over “video games as art.” Roger Ebert, the
acclaimed film critic, famously declared on his personal blog that “in principle video games cannot be art”
(“Video games” 2010, emphasis in original). Ebert ranked up 4,936 comments from
readers responding to this post, the overwhelming majority “united in
opposition” against him (“Play” 2010). For many, video games won the battle in
2011 when the US Supreme Court overturned a California law banning violent
video games, with Justice Scalia writing for the majority that “like the
protected books, plays, and movies that preceded them, video games communicate
ideas—and even social messages—through many familiar literary devices (such as
characters, dialogue, plot, and music) and through features distinctive to the
medium (such as the player's interaction with the virtual world)” (Sutter 2011).
Despite the Supreme Court ruling, however the debate rages on.
In a
follow-up reconciliation post, Ebert conceded he was wrong to judge video games
without ever playing them himself, but maintained that he believed in principle
and theory it just didn’t work for video games. Interestingly, he cited a
conversation with filmmaker and game auteur Clive Barker where they ran into discussing
Romeo and Juliet. “Sooner [or] later,”
he writes on his blog, “these arguments all get around to Shakespeare, and have
a way of running aground on him” (“Play” 2010). This paper seeks to let
Shakespeare have his own say on the matter. Taking what we know of the Bard and
how he approached his own medium, I will cordially request he give us his own
insight on the matter. The Tempest—his
final, fantastic work about a self-made sorcerer living in exile and seeking
revenge—will constitute the basis for much of my discussion.
In 2010,
EA Games released a video game adaptation of The Divine Comedy entitled Dante’s
Inferno. Jonathan Knight, the game’s executive producer, said in an
interview when asked about how Shakespeare would be as a video game designer, “Shakespeare
would have been on the forefront. He was an innovator and not just a great
story-teller. Arguably, he’s more of a medium innovator” (Brophy-Warren 2010).
Knight makes a valid point here. All scholars (and most students) realize that
Shakespeare wrote very few original plots (The
Tempest excepted, perhaps) and mostly just converted stories from other
mediums to the stage, or even from other stage productions to his own. Knight
specifically sites Hamlet, but King Lear, Romeo and Juliet, Othello,
and several others also have very clear source material—not to mention all of
the history plays. Shakespeare’s genius was not in plot, but style. Theater in
Shakespeare’s time was viewed as “ephemeral and even somewhat disreputable
entertainments by some contemporaries” (Wikipedia). Public concern grew along
with the popularity of the new drama of Shakespeare’s age as theaters were seen
as places for pick-pocketing, lewd performances, and other immoral acts.
Shakespeare’s theater in his own time was literally not much removed from such
cheap entertainments as bear baiting, thus Shakespeare’s famous stage direction
from The Winter’s Tale: “Exit,
pursued by a bear” (3.3). While classical drama of Greek and Roman times was
worthy of repute, Shakespeare’s own medium in his own time—English theater—was viewed
in much the same fashion as video games of our own time. In many ways,
Shakespeare not only innovated the theater, but the English language itself,
adding to it or altering it whenever it couldn’t serve his purposes fully.
Therefore, if we take his track record as any pattern, it is not difficult to believe
that Shakespeare would indeed be innovating with the newest medium of our own
day that is commonly seen as base and crass—specifically, video games.
Apart from
his pattern of innovation, the very themes he dealt with lend themselves to
video games better than other mediums. Most of Shakespeare’s plots—and certainly
his most famous plots—center around a single, strong character’s crucial decisions
in crucial moments. King Lear’s reaction to his daughters, Hamlet’s reaction to
his father’s ghost, Othello’s reaction to Iago’s words, Romeo’s reaction to
Juliet’s beauty—the plots of every play hinge on these single choices, and all
their choices lead to the ultimate tragedy of each. The Tempest’s Propsero takes this principle even further as he has
more power than perhaps any other Shakespeare character over the course of the
story thanks to his magical powers and his control of the spirit Ariel.
Prospero essentially crafts his own entire plot through his magic, leading his
family and friends through the island in a veritable maze, guiding them step by
step to their final decisions and his own eventual relinquishment of power. The
art and emotion of these stories comes from the audience-member identifying
with these central characters and wrestling in their own heart with the choices
these characters face, then, ultimately, coming to understand and sympathize
with the character’s decision despite the tragedy it caused. Video games are
better equipped than any other medium to take on this theme of choice and
consequence because they literally put that choice in the hands of the audience
like no other medium can. Because Shakespeare was so obviously and consistently
concerned with this subject, he most certainly would be tempted by the ability
of video games to put this theme and its accompanying questions right in the
hand of the player.
Many might
make the argument that Shakespeare would enter the world of film-making over
video games. Film seems a more obvious descendant of theater, after all, just
expanding the possibilities of visual effects and providing several new nuances
to the art of acting, lighting, script-writing, and more. Shakespeare himself
working as an actor would love the ability the camera has to enhance the actor’s
performance and open new doors and possibilities. All of this is true, and
there is no reason why Shakespeare wouldn’t dabble in film, but I argue that
ultimately video games would have been more intriguing to him, as video games
actually share as much if not more in common with theater than film does. One
major drawback of film from theater is loss of audience. While films can reach
millions, those millions can’t fit in one theater, and Shakespeare loved an
audience. Even today, Shakespearean actors often reach out to the audience
directly, asking them to participate some way in the performance, whether it be
to fill the ranks of Henry V’s armies or fill the audience of the players’ play
within Hamlet, the audience fills
specific roles and fuels the production. Any stage actor can attest to the
effect the audience has on the performance, as audience interest and
participation ultimately bring the art of the theater to fruition.
Though interaction in theater is
limited, Shakespeare sought it always—often explicitly through speeches like
those of the chorus from Henry V or
Prospero’s own final speech from The
Tempest in which he says “Let me not, / Since I have my dukedom got / And
pardon'd the deceiver, dwell / In this bare island by your spell; / But
release me from my bands / With the help of your good hands”
(5.1.2408-2413). The audience participation obviously cannot be literal here,
but the invitation is very real. The
Tempest deals throughout with the theme of vision versus reality, and even
cleverly refers to Shakespeare’s own theater while doing so: “And, like / the baseless
fabric of this vision, / The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, / The
solemn temples, the great globe itself,
/ Ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve / And, like this insubstantial
pageant faded, / Leave not a rack behind” (4.1.1881-1886, emphasis added).
Prospero essentially invites the audience to let go of theater after the
curtain closes, to move into real things—all that theater isn’t. So while the
audience can’t literally “release” Prospero, the invitation to interact is very
real because Prospero is suggesting how they should think about and consider
the play after it ends (and, considering that this is Shakespeare’s last play,
after all plays end). Consider the impact of such an invitation on a player
that could literally release Prospero
by dropping the controller. Shakespeare clearly saw this audience interaction
as essential. Video games would give Shakespeare the opportunity to reach as
many millions as film, yet keep an interactive, participatory audience.
What side of the “video games as
art” debate would Shakespeare himself fall on? From evidence of his own history
and his own central themes, it seems that Shakespeare might find a
mind-blowingly elegant way to put that loggerheaded flap-mouthed hugger-mugger
in his place and show us all how a derided and devalued medium can host the
greatest art of a century—just like he did last time he was around.
Works Cited
Roger Ebert, "Okay, kids, play on my lawn"
Roger Ebert, "Video games can never be art"
John D. Sutter, "Supreme Court Sees Video Games as Art"
Jamin Brophy-Warren "Dante’s Inferno: Do Classic Poems Make Great Videogames?"
Wikipedia, "William Shakespeare's reputation"
Shakespeare lines and line numbers from Open-Source Shakespeare
Paul, I think the opening story to your paper is a great hook, but it might be good to see your thesis come out more upfront, like at the end of that second paragraph. Also, I don't know if you'll be able to include this, but I do have a rebuttal:
ReplyDeleteHow much choice do players really have in video games? I know that in my youth, I was good at video games not because I "made" the right choices but because I knew how to think like the game. I knew the choice it was demanding me to make to progress with the story. I know that there are more games now that wind up giving the player's choices more weight, but I have to wonder how illusory that is for the most part.
I can talk more about this with you tomorrow, but I think that the concept of video games with narrative arcs diminishes the idea of choice for the player a significant amount.
I also think you've made an engaging opening. In fact, I was so much taken by the parallel of Shakespeare working in the innovative medium of his day that I hoped you'd take that further--maybe bringing in more evidence of contemporary hostility toward theater or maybe something about his work legitimizing theater.
ReplyDeleteI think that you must better define art in order to make your argument. Obviously video games are art in terms of their rich visuals. You could describe some of the amazing 3D environments that are the imaginative counterparts to many of Shakespeare's exotic settings. Think of Caliban's description of the island and the magical aesthetic of Sky Rim or Final Fantasy. Many are also art by way of their music.
You seem to be claiming that video games are art based on the criterion of expression (from the legal argument). That's fine. However, I think you need to think more in terms of phenomenology -- how someone experiences something. Video games may have narratives. How do people experience those narratives? They have characters or avatars. How do video game characters compare to those from plays? Video games may have words, but obviously the sequence and amount of language is very different from a play.
You might consider doing some research on performance or interactive art or theater. (Ever see Bill Murray in The Man Who Knew Too Little? The movie is based on interactive theater taking place all over London, and the comedy comes from the main character mistaking a real crime plot for a staged one). Interactivity is not new to art nor has it required a gaming console.
Be careful not to equate choice with art. Nyssa has some good points about choice, too. Remember that all art works within constraints (things the artist nor the audience do not choose) and those bounds actually provide the power behind art in many ways.
Finally, what is to be gained by persuading us that video games are art? Who is your audience? Also, I'm awaiting for your arguments to be framed in terms of and in reference to scenes and lines from The Tempest