“Gone Home” has been a quite successful game, receiving many
recent awards such as “Best Narrative Game” by PC Gamer, “Best Games of 2013”
by USA TODAY, “Best Story” by IGN, and many more. (http://www.gonehomegame.com) As a story
exploration game, there is no set way to experience or “go through” the game,
since many different items are set up in each room for you to click on, read,
and listen to in order to figure out where the sister has gone. Unfortunately,
I missed the last few minutes of the game, where the story was concluded, so I
did not know what was done to piece together the ending, or how the character
“wins” the game. I am not aware of how the player can communicate to the game
that is has officially and successfully solved the riddle, or found the answer.
It might just require the player to manipulate the character to enter every
space and collect enough audio journal entries from the sister, and then the
story just propels itself to the finish line, whether or not the player has
actually been able to solve the mystery on their own.
I think I have a unique experience and outlook on this whole
gaming process and “journey” through the game because I saw the entire game
being played, yet I did not see the ending played out. This caused me to
realize just how significant and motivational the result or goal of video games
always are, because without it, the player might not experience the fullest
level of satisfaction. It might all feel like a waste. While it often a fun
escape to delve into a digital world and manipulate it for a while, being
embodied in a video game like this for too long (depending on the mobility and
controls of the interface) can cause anxiety if there is no reward at the end
of the process. There can feel like a separation between emotion and investment
by the real person (player) and the emotions and investment of the “other”
(avatar), which is really just an animatronic, digital version of the player,
who cannot actually feel or invest anything without the player to manipulate
their every move. However, they do somehow seem to possess a source of power
and control that the player does not.
These feelings of extreme separation, miscommunication,
frustration and varying proximity (physical and metaphorical, I guess) between
the player and character remind me of a quote by Sobchack that was mentioned in
the assigned Timothy Crick reading, “the moving camera is originally perceived
by us in experience as an ‘other’ who is animate, conscious, and experiences
and intends towards its own conscious activity as we do,” (260). For “Gone
Home,” there is no avatar, no moving “people” or characters of any kind. The
player is completely alone, and even more so, because there is no body or
avatar to even represent the player. The camera is the player, thus the game is
“shot” through the lens of the player’s eyes, which seemed to cause me more
stress as I observed the game being played. I felt like I wanted to see
“myself” (the player), or have some connection to humankind or any form of
“life”, even if it was digitized. I echo Crick’s questioning, regarding the
cinematic elements of video games and how it manipulates the view of the world
and experience for the player:
“…as digital imaging technologies
and techniques strive closer to replicating the cinematic moving image, to what
extent do her views on digital imagery still seem applicable to our
phenomenological experiences of engaging with contemporary video games?” (260)
I have had experience with video games, but not for quite a
while. And when I heard the explanation of the interface for interacting with
this particular game, I became worried that I would not know how to both
control the “camera” (the POV), and the movement of the character with the
arrows, plus making decisions to click on certain things, while ultimately
following the plotline. It felt like a lot of responsibility, and an extreme
control over both hand, eye, and brain coordination. Yet I am able to
manipulate a lot of other forms of technology in my everyday life. In fact, the
game was being played on the exact same type of computer that I use every
single day. However, there is something quite different about having to operate
the perspective and actions of a presumed “other” character that is both living
in a world inside your computer (one that you can control to an extent, but not
change) and is receiving life and mobility through the person outside the
computer. Crick summarizes Sobchacks’s observations on these two bodies more
clearly:
“…although this body is realized by
the physical presence of the camera, it cannot be reduced to its mechanisms
because the viewer does not experience it in that way. The film’s body is
neither the camera nor the lens; neither the projector nor the screen…it is,
rather, the sum of its parts.” (260)
This type of theology is something that can only fully be
understood through application. The reason why people usually do not like video
games is because they are not good at them; they have a hard time dealing with
these two personas that are both there, yet not entirely there on their own.
They are co-dependent, yet since it is all a simulation, it is never 100% a
real connection and cohesion between the video game persona and the person
operating the controllers.
“The software-simulated mobile camera that follows (or
inhabits) a character in a virtual world serves double duty as the perceptive
organ of a ‘game body.’” (261) This “game body” is both immersive and
restrictive, as it shifts from the perspective of first-person to third-person.
To contrast, this is why many people LOVE video games. It is intriguing and
exciting to know that you can be both the author and the player, creating the
adventure in an established world other than your own, and where all the action
is actually fake and does not have real consequences. The “film body” theory by
Sobchack, yet explained in detail by Crick, explains how the player “is
theoretically able to exist within differing spatial domains during a
first-person gaming experience, operating both on and in the game’s space from
their own physical space…In other words, it seems like the player is playing as
themselves from an imaginary perspective because he or she is not placed into
that field by means of a visible avatar.” (262-263)
These are the parameters of “Gone Home.” Without having a
person to represent “us” as the player, it causes us to focus more on how we
manipulate our own camera views, and to engage with the entire world around us.
With an avatar, there is the tendency to stare at it and focus on controlling
its many movement options (jump kick, punch, run, etc.) Without it, there feels
like less of a safety net, and less of a distinction between reality and
representation. Your eyes are the camera’s eyes. This whole observation and
experience made me concentrate more on what people both like and detest about
video games in general, and what how the different type of interfaces might
control their opinion and stress over certain games. It is nice to feel
connected to the game, as if it is a circuit, which Haraway explained as a
technology that extends human reach. At the same time, though, it can make the
player feel very limited and restricted in a world like “Gone Home” where many
things have to be manipulated at one time in order to play it.
Overall, it was fascinating to think about the games I
played as a kid, and how much technology has advanced since then. Also,
comparing the mechanics of operating a video game with a controller vs. a
computer were truly insightful observations, as I pondered on my own aesthetics
regarding digital embodiment and participation of certain video games. I personally
like the handheld controller with the avatar, yet I am a big fan of things like
Rock Band, where you manipulate your controller
to hit certain buttons at certain times. Ultimately, video games that allow the
person to mimic reality (dancing, instruments, singing) will remain popular
because of how it forces the actual body to be a part of the process, and is
less about manipulating an avatar on the screen or controlling the “camera.”