Sega’s Focus on Detal
Give me some action.
In my last article (published some time ago, I know, I know) I discussed a difference in scope between the two major game companies of Nintendo and Sega. Nintendo had the broader scope concerning story and vision, while Sega focused more on the moment, on the immediate experience.
Obviously, if you couldn’t tell, I was pretty biased toward Nintendo. It was the only game system I had 99% of the time, unless I went over to friends’ houses who had the Sega system. But that doesn’t mean I can’t relate those experiences, or that they didn’t have an effect on my young impressionable mind.
There is a fundamental difference between going for the big picture and confining oneself to the smaller and more detailed section. Go for the big picture, like Nintendo, and you sacrifice some detail. Go for that detail, on the other hand, like Sega, and you miss the bigger point that ties it all together.
What I remember vividly from playing Sega games like Sonic or Marvel Vs Capcom, is that they encapsulated an experience. Think of Sonic. He is fast. He IS speed; that’s his one and only trait, really. That’s it. No gimmicks, no surprises, just him either running (or spinning) fast. Your only goal, really, is to get Sonic to go as fast as he can, to avoid obstacles that would impede his progress. What the entire game transmitted to me, the player, then, was the essence of speed. I began to hate obstacles. I hated those little spiny things not only because they made me lose rings, but because they stopped my forward progress. I couldn’t care less about smacking, hitting, bouncing on, or defeating each and every enemy; it was just as much of a defeat for them if I got by unimpeded in my mad dash to the end of the level.
Look at games like Marvel Vs Capcom. (A fair point to mention; this was originally an arcade game ported to a Sega system. I still think it’s a valid example, however, because the NES definitely didn’t have many games like this at all. The SNES started getting more games in the genre, but they were mostly side-scrolling action adventures; their big entries into the genre were Killer Instinct and Mortal Kombat, which the Sega also had). There is no real back-story that I remember (feel free to correct me, though), and I definitely wasn’t paying attention to it as a kid even if there was one. POWER. COOL FINISHING MOVES. That’s all I cared about, all I noticed. “Finally, I can get some idea of what it’s like to slash and hack away at people like Wolverine!” (paraphrased quote from 11-year old me). If I got caught in my opponent’s finishing move (like the kind that infernal Iron Man had), I was more annoyed that I couldn’t respond in kind, and immediately, at that.
Notice how there could have been a larger motive, a deeper meaning behind these games (Is Sonic just a prop for Weberian philosophies? Is ‘progress’ for the sake of progress really what’s at stake? Does Marvel Vs Capcom embody strange phantasms of Nietzsche’s übermensch? Is there some kind of propaganda going on??), but a kid wouldn’t have cared. I know I didn’t. That’s the point of this focus on a smaller, more detailed, experience. You, you, are inserted into the protagonists’ shoes, given their abilities and traits, and then turned loose. It’s more an avenue to explore what it means to have that specific skill set, to build your own story, than it is to accomplish a higher, but external, purpose. This is all internal. You. Your assumption of another’s abilities.
Now, the downside to this is that if there is indeed a larger story, a bigger meaning behind it all, you’re probably going to miss it. It was an off-the-top-of-my-head suggestion above, but what if Sonic really wasabout Weber or Marx and their ideas of progress? What if Dr. Eggman represented evil capitalism, protected by levels of machinery and casinos, which Sonic has to speed through and overcome? What if the ‘supermen’ of Nietzsche really were relegated to battles for power and supremacy in Marvel Vs Capcom? If there really were storylines like that, (and I highly doubt there were) they were missed and glossed over. But if they were there, did they have an influence? Did it change something in my young subconscious? Who knows. But to leave such storylines unaddressed does seem to be a bit of a problem. You, through the character, are free to create your own story, develop what you will, and influence events as you will, but what if, in the end, that is the antithesis of your character? What if battling for supremacy over everyone else has left Professor X at the pinnacle of success and power? Is that who you know Professor X to be? A power-hungry megalomaniac? The danger of small-picture orientation is that you are not aware of how your actions or input fit into the larger picture as a whole, and it may not be what the larger picture needs. But you won’t know that. How could you?
In any case, there are, as with everything, advantages and disadvantages. Nintendo’s larger focus gives you the context you need to frame your actions, but you might lose sight of your character. Sega’s detailed focus allows you to control and manipulate your input to a fine degree, but you lose sight of the end towards which you act. And that’s not to say that all Nintendo games, or all Sega games, follow their respective models. But the larger, more famous games for each company, for the most part, do. Your preference (these days, as an adult), will probably depend on how you see the world and how you approach it. Do you feel like knowing what your purpose is in the grand scheme of things? Or do you prefer to make your own destiny, worldly constrictions be damned? Luckily, games are just that, games. But they’re a good proxy for deep, for retro, thoughts.
-Dan
