What Makes a Game Good, Anyway?
Those that make a permanent mark on our hearts are those that hold fast against the shifting sands of time
Since the revitalization of the video game marketplace following the crash of 1983, gaming has become an integral piece of the cultural zeitgeist. In case you mistake this statement for unnecessary hyperbole, I invite you to consider a quick thought experiment. Have you played a game of any kind in the last month? The past week? Day? And if you haven’t, do you live with someone who does? This includes, of course, mobile apps, PC games, and console games.
Changes are quite high that you’ve answered in the affirmative to at least one of these questions.
Over 164 million adults in the United States play video games and three-quarters of all Americans have at least one gamer in their household.
- The Entertainment Software Association (2019)
Recognizable icons from the industry dot the cultural landscape, and will likely continue to do so. Chances are that you’ve heard about Lara Croft, Mario, Pikachu, Sonic the Hedgehog, Link, or Master Chief, at least in passing.
Similar to film, the modern gaming industry is dominated by a few publishers and developers, many of which have been around for decades. Collectively, billions of dollars are poured into software and development for the newest technological marvels, in an attempt to outshine competitors.
The market for video games does remain slightly less oligopolistic than the film market, arguably leading towards a greater diversification of experiences. I would argue it is arguably more important that gaming remains one of the few truly immersive entertainment activities which may be done with ease at a relatively low cost.
This naturally leads to the heart of the issue at hand. What makes a video game good?
I would argue that the creation and enjoyment of a video game is a work of modern art. In that, it is difficult to objectively quantify the entertainment value each person is likely to garner from a specific game. Each person has their own tastes to be accounted for when they decide whether or not to purchase a game, considering factors such as: genre, characters, depth of story, aesthetic, soundtrack, etc…
I find that arguments such as this are easier to grasp when drawing a (very) basic comparison. I enjoy Disney movies, and I enjoy Nintendo games. Both offer a respite from the tedium of the daily grind, consistently utilize colorful casts of characters in their respective media, utilize oftentimes enjoyable soundtracks, and infamously value charm as well as aesthetic over the nitty-gritty of storytelling. In short, big-budget offerings from these companies often offer a certain amount of charm to give their audience a warm, fuzzy feeling in lieu of sordid takes on modern society. In this vein, I am simply unable to find an affinity for most first-person shooters or movies based around DC comics.
One of my dearest friends, however, takes nearly the polar opposite view, enjoying realistic and gritty depictions of the world compared to the “childlike whimsy” found in Disney as well as Nintendo’s offerings. Neither viewpoint is inherently wrong, but rather reflects on our preconceptions about the purpose of the medium in the first place as well as our own experiences within their worlds.
It is difficult to objectively quantify the entertainment value each person is likely to garner from a specific game.
My mother was ill throughout much of my childhood, and my father was off at war. Since we were unable to play outside together, much of the time in my formative years was spent either reading, watching movies, or playing video games. At the time, I thought it was cool I had a parent who would actually play Mario Kart: Double Dash or Crash Bandicoot: The Wrath of Cortex with me. When my dad was home, we would play Mario Party or Tiger Woods PGA Tour Golf together.
In hindsight, I think our household’s affinity for Disney and Nintendo was largely an exercise in escapism, but I nevertheless cherish the possibilities I was offered by these games as a child. For that reason, even today I am strongly influenced by the aesthetic qualities of a game. Even as a teenager, when all of my friends became interested in shooting games, I preferred to read novels, write short stories, or experience the saccharine sweetness provided by a mixture of Nintendo’s effervescent charm and my own nostalgia.
I’m a little bit older, now, and can appreciate the qualities grittier games bring to the table, even if most will never be “for” me.
In late 2017, I purchased Super Mario Odyssey. The Mario series in particular has had an inordinate impact on my life, considering my parents were most apt to indulge in one of the many, many games the series had to offer. The game was enjoyable, but on reaching New Donk City’s festival… I felt something. An overwhelming sense of joy coupled with decades of nostalgia for a series that had such an indelible impact on my young life led to what I would describe as the best gaming experience of my life.
Honestly, if you’ve ever played a Mario game, just watch this video from IGN. You’ll quickly understand what I mean by pure, unadulterated glee.
Earlier today, after one of my roommates finished a round in League of Legends, he wanted to play some Paper Mario: The Origami King. For hours, everyone in our apartment just laughed at the hijinx onscreen, particularly from the multitudinous Toads scattered throughout the map. Last week, all of us viciously attacked one another in a heated game of Mario Kart: Double Dash. The week before, we enjoyed one another’s company while playing The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. We’ve played Cuphead, Mario Party, League of Legends, Overcooked 2, Human Fall Flat, Baba is You, and Super Smash Bros. Ultimate as roommates and friends.
When it comes down to it, art is subjective. Therefore, the value placed on each video game is largely subjective. Those that make a permanent mark on our hearts are those that hold fast against the shifting sands of time.
Play what you want. Have fun. Damn those who would judge you for what you enjoy.
