In many of the arguments that games are incapable of reaching the status of Art, there seems to be an underlying assumption that they are all more or less the same. Whether the simplistic bleeps and bloops of yore or today’s extremely realistic sports sims or gory FPS games, they are all essentially mindless diversions. If someone finds something artistic within, that’s their business, but it can’t really stand its ground. This rationale is flawed, however, in that considering only the most popular and mainstream of games leads to a poor sampling for naysayers to argue from convincingly.
To draw a parallel to film, no one is going to cite Biodome or Juwanna Mann or any other decidedly non-artistic films, entertainment value aside, as evidence that cinema is only capable of mindless tripe when compared to literature. That would not be a very strong argument, but you wouldn’t know that if your only exposure to film consisted of the tawdry and banal.
As many point out, the medium of film has had much longer to mature. This does not, however, mean that video game designers have yet to produce anything that could be considered ‘Art.’ One might argue that the entire history of games has been people creating literal art: concept art, drawings, computer modeling, et cetera. Of course, this argument concerns the more abstract notion of ‘Art,’ which is by nature highly subjective; to some Super Mario Bros. 3’s large colorful rectangles might be Mondrian-esque, while to others they are merely overlooked products of antiquated technology. But for many who are well-versed in the medium of video games, its capacity for artistic inspiration has already been validated.
Given that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and we are entering a highly subjective arena, everyone will hold a different notion of which games have achieved the status of Art. That said, the storied history of gaming does offer plenty of more conclusive examples. Consider Final Fantasy VII and its sheer scale, which was not just impressive for its time, but even now. And who can say they didn’t get choked up when Aeris died? The series wasn’t always mired in shallow teeny-bopper clichés.
I would like to focus on another famed series, though– Metal Gear Solid. While I have a few qualms about certain aspects of latter entries in the series, in my opinion it illustrates extremely well the capacity for games to go beyond mere diversion. Although the topic of games-as-Art has, in many ways, been beaten to death by now, I am hoping to shed some light for the non-gaming critics on exactly how games could be considered Art. Further, I shall endeavor to do so in a way that does not rely so heavily on the relative and nebulous concept of ‘Art,’ but rather, in a manner more personal and…er, solid, if you will.
Many who have played the series will differ in opinion on their favorite installments, but few will argue that the follow-up to Metal Gear Solid (PSX), Sons of Liberty (PS2), was indeed the most controversial. This is especially true for anyone who experienced the first game when it was released, and the subsequent frenzied anticipation for its sequel. The first was a massive hit, commercially and critically. Not only did it have excellent characters and a gripping story, but it also posed deeper questions about identity, the ethics and boundaries of genetic manipulation, and nuclear armament, to name just a few of its themes.
Given that the game was such a massive global success, the masses were frothing at the mouth, myself included, thinking about the game’s protagonist Solid Snake back in action on Playstation 2. Hideo Kojima, the game’s designer, knew that this was a unique opportunity. Few games have the impact that MGS did, and few sequels create such huge expectations. He could have taken the easy route and made a by-the-books Snake-saves-the-day follow-up. It still would’ve been a huge hit and a great game, but not revolutionary.
Excitement over Sons of Liberty grew to a fever-pitch at E3 2000. The anticipation was palpable. All the videos and screenshots of SoL looked to fulfill fans’ expectations and then some. Snake was back alright, along with a whole new level of realism and interactivity with the game’s environment, not to mention lush graphics. Ten years later and there’s still a certain silky-smoothness to the look and gameplay of SoL, especially the Tanker Saga, which has yet to be topped by later installments. Kojima, always one to listen to fan feedback, fed the expectations with tightly controlled precision, showing them only Solid Snake and only the Tanker Saga portion of the game. If this weren’t enough, the SoL demo featuring Snake and the Tanker firmly cemented expectations.
