Postcards From The Clipping Plane

Conveniently ignoring the serious side of videogame development

James Leach bids us farewell with a trip down memory plane

As fascinated as you probably aren’t by the state of creative writing within game development, there is, perhaps, only so much to say about it, and I think perhaps I’ve said all of it. So now it’s time to bow out with a kind of ‘too long; didn’t read’ summary of the last few years.

We decided that dragging famous people into game voiceovers is only worth it if they’re perfect for the role. Nobody is or has ever been impressed by the ability of a developer to throw a large amount of money at a celebrity and secure them for a couple of studio hours on their day off. Then there was the fearless expedition into the world of female game characters. There were quite a few elements here, and it was the topic I received the most feedback about. The upshot being that if one of the most important attributes of any of your characters is that she is female, you’ve pretty much already failed. And if she’s female and there to be attracted to the male protagonist, you’ve failed harder. If she’s there to try and make young male gamers attracted to her, you probably should be dragged into a dairy and shot.

It’s hard to avoid noticing the sheer confidence of writing in games now. Remember the time when games slavishly copied movies? James Cameron’s 1986 film Aliens has a lot to answer for. But there was also the slightly patronising love of ‘quirky British humour’ in games. I was in the frequently depressing vanguard of this, and if I had a quid for each time something I’d written was described as ‘Monty Pythonesque’ I’d have enough for a bottle of whisky and a shotgun.

Times have changed, though. I think Portal was the moment I knew that nothing would ever be the same again. We went from being like other forms of entertainment to having other forms of entertainment want to be like

us. There will always be room for plumbers rescuing princesses from castles, but when you’ve got the quotability of Skyrim, the savage satire of the GTA games and the intensity of The Last Of Us, you’re in a world which is very comfortable with itself.

But what about the mechanics of story in games? The three-act storytelling structure imposed on a world where the player has freedom? Are we creating a narrative, or giving the player all the building blocks to create their own? Such deep, pivotal and possibly stupid questions led to an exploration into the realms of emotion and connection in games. How is it possible to make a player care about the story? And to care about the character they’re inhabiting? Games have a freedom which storytelling doesn’t; that’s why it’s called storytelling. But the very strength of stories is that the audience can’t influence them. You have to go along for the ride, and as anyone who’s let a young child have ongoing input into a bedtime tale knows, ceding control never ends well. The answer, we decided, was... Well, I can’t recall now. It’ll be in the back issues somewhere. But we did get it sorted, definitely.

Also sorted were some of the troublesome elements game developers were determined to employ for a while. Pets in games, for example. Bad idea. Love interest. Also a dreadful concept. Goofy sidekicks. That’s unlikely to work either. There was, looking back on it all now, a surprising amount of curmudgeonliness on the back page here. For me, at least, it was cathartic. Cheers.

Through all this, I frequently referred to situations, games and companies I was actually involved with. I cunningly hid the identities of these for the most part, because I wished, and still wish, to retain my liberty and genitalia. Looking back, some of it must have been immediately recognisable to those who were there. The videogame world contains some of the smartest people around, but like any industry it also has its share of clowns. I cling to the hope that nobody wants to recognise themselves as such, and so I think I got away with it. The same with some of the projects. I seem to have devoted just enough time to staying the right side of the NDAs. It has, at times, been a minefield.

So what about the future? Games aren’t going to change. The technology is going to advance, but in terms of writing, we’ll keep on trying to engage, entertain and immerse the player in our worlds. Everything is largely getting more refined, though. Graphics, audio, detail, dialogue, story, the lot. We’re a long way from climbing the other side of Uncanny Valley, and maybe we never will. But we’re here to stay.

I cunningly hid identities because I wished, and still wish, to retain my liberty and genitalia