The Case for Video Game Oscars
The Video Game industry needs a showcase that focuses purely on story, narrative, and writing
In 2013, game developer Quantic Dream released a trailer for its upcoming game Beyond: Two Souls at the Tribeca Film Festival. The trailer, which you can view on YouTube, claims that “Presenting BEYOND at TFF is a groundbreaking example of the potential in the marriage of gaming and cinema.” Beyond (which starred the talents of Ellen Page and Willem Dafoe) later launched to mixed reviews, and Quantic Dream is now mired in lawsuits and scandals as their newest game, Detroit: Become Human, releases. In other words, the film festival didn’t represent the watershed moment in game or film history that some hoped for. Video games and film still occupy different cultural living spaces.
Despite the disappointment of Beyond, there are a few video games (the exact number is open to debate) that present incredibly powerful narratives, stories that transcend their medium and are worthy of universal acclaim. Like classic works of literature or films, these games stand as the best examples of storytelling craft and excellence in design in their field. I’d even argue that games tell stories in meaningfully different ways than books or movies can because of the interactive nature inherent to gaming. Because of this impact, these stories deserve to be recognized, applauded, and remembered well past their release date and brief recognition as “game of the year.”
To truly recognize the power of some video game stories, the world needs the equivalent of the Academy Awards for video game stories. What I mean by this is not just another video game awards show or honor, but something meaningfully different. I’m not criticizing the current slate of awards — they do good work and provide meaningful acclaim — but I want some form of recognition that rewards only the storytelling aspects of games. This is similar to what the Oscars do now — even though there are awards for visual design, the most compelling are the ones that honor the best acting and directing. Games employ thousands of actors and writers, so let’s give them the recognition they deserve.
Narrative Peformance
Although Beyond didn’t land to the acclaim that Quantic Dream and Sony hoped for, 2013 was still a great year for video games, especially ones that prioritized narrative. Sony also released The Last of Us, a narrative-focused, post-apocalyptic action game that told a powerful story of love and hope. Telltale games also released the follow-up to its The Walking Dead, a story-driven adventure game, which had come out a year earlier. Critics praised the writing and vocal performances in both of these games, noting that they took game narratives in interesting and powerful new directions. These games show why the industry needs more recognition of its best stories.
These games — one big-budget and the other an indie effort — both showcase the importance of strong writing, voice acting, and overall narrative direction. In The Walking Dead, voice actors Dave Fennoy (Lee) and Melissa Hutchinson (Clementine) propel the game’s story forward. Their evolution from strangers to essentially family members throughout the game is touching, and gives the final emotional moments their emotional potency. Many players (myself included) finished the game with lumps in their throats that showed the power of this project. Without Fennoy and Hutchinson, it’s doubtful that Telltale games would have expanded to the important role it occupies today.
The Last of Us is no different. Troy Baker’s Joel and Ashley Johnson’s Ellie give two of the best vocal performances in any game (Johnson does a particularly excellent job), and the way that these two characters mature and grow over the course of the narrative couldn’t succeed without them. There are many story parallels between The Last of Us and The Walking Dead (post-apocalyptic world, father-daughter relationship mechanics, death and sacrifice as themes), but I’m most struck by the excellence of the actors in each one.
In addition, the writing is phenomenally good in each project as well. Neil Druckmann, the creative director for The Last of Us, has risen to industry fame on the success of this title. A quick perusal of his Twitter feed reveals his passion for good books and tv shows, and he has been relatively open about the creative influences from other media for his own work. The art of building believable characters that exist to do more than simply pump bullets into the heads of enemies is remarkable, and Sean Vanaman, Mark Darin, and Gary Whitta deserve similar praise for their work on The Walking Dead. The writing in each game feels realistic and tense, giving powerful detail and emotion to the desolate worlds the authors created.
The reason I just spent a few paragraphs delving into two games that have already amassed considerable acclaim is that I think it’s worth exploring how games as a medium can be so powerful for storytelling. It’s easy to explain why a good movie is worth watching, or a good book worth reading: the experience of seeing master storytellers at work captivates us, stimulates our imaginations, transports us to other worlds. With games, the interactivity involved makes these stories even more powerful. During the emotional climax of The Last of Us, I was legitimately upset and angry. The game doesn’t pull any narrative punches, and its somewhat-controversial ending is easily the most powerful moment I’ve ever experience in any game, movie, or book. I didn’t just see Joel and Ellie’s story from afar, I lived it as I ran through the halls of the hospital trying to pull off one final rescue.
These games are just a few examples, and the fact that I picked them may say more about myself than the games industry. This year’s God of War, is a narrative masterpiece, and games like Firewatch (which Vanaman worked on), What Remains of Edith Finch, Gone Home, and Kentucky Route Zero also tell powerful stories. The list of games that tell truly amazing narratives, tales that transcend their medium to at least a degree, may not be as long as similar ones for books or film, but it has plenty of titles worthy of consideration.
Excellence deserves to be recognized
The problem with recognizing great video games is that the industry moves quickly, and games are often forgotten. New consoles come out every few years, and The Last of Us and The Walking Dead would already be trapped on defunct hardware if they hadn’t been ported. The popularity of these two titles demands that they be preserved, but it’s foreseeable that these games won’t function on the consoles (if these even exist anymore) of 2040. Many great movies and books slip under the collective consciousness of their industries too, but the fast-moving nature of video games make this a much more pressing problem.
This is why I think we need another set of video game awards, one dedicated purely to storytelling. I imagine categories for writing, narrative direction, most interesting characters, and vocal performances. I’d draw the line here, though. If I were to host this show, I wouldn’t give out a “game of the year award,” or “best new IP.” God of War would surely be present for 2018, but the fantastic combat mechanics wouldn’t matter. The only parts of this game that could qualify it would be the relationship between Kratos and Atreus and the themes of vengeance, regret, and forgiveness.
I’ll admit, I didn’t come up with this idea purely on my own. Writer Chris Suellentrop edited a fantastic series of articles for Polygon at the end of last year that dove deep into video game design. Each article is interesting and well worth reading, but I was most struck by the kind of criticism that this series promoted. Suellentrop wasn’t handing out review scores or talking about time to beat these games, he and a collection of influential figures within the field talked about design and mechanics from a high-level perspective. I think it’s worth doing the same with narrative and story.
Ultimately though, I think we need another set of video game awards because excellence deserves to be rewarded. Vanaman, Druckmann, Vennoy, Johnson, and countless others have worked for many years to bring these games to release. In many ways, they have just as much talent as the biggest names from books and film. The only difference, in my eyes, is that the book and film crowd will be remembered for much longer than their video game counterparts. The fleeting nature of video game recognition can be fixed.
