This week, our partnership with game criticism site Critical Distance brings us picks from Riley MacLeod on topics ranging from a look back at the first PlayStation controller to the pitfalls of jiggle physics.
Our Mutual Hobby Involves Pushing Buttons to Perform Actions
Let's begin with the intricacies of mechanics and controls. As part of Kill Screen's week on the first PlayStation, David Shimomura explores the semiotics of the design behind the PlayStation's controller. Shimomura writes that what Teiyu Goto, the designer of the original controller "didn’t realize was that while he had ultimate reign of the symbols themselves he did not have ultimate sanction over the meanings that others would draw from them." Shimomura also looks at the cultural context of the buttons and how they did and didn't translate to American audiences.
Relatedly, over at Paste, Katherine Cross discusses the button-pressing we love to hate, the quick-time event,or QTE (which I just realized you could pronounce as "cutie;" has anyone done that?). Looking beyond Call of Duty's cringe-worthy "Press F to Pay Respects," Cross considers QTEs in a more far-reaching and generous light:
Simply put, at their best, quick time events are meant to blur the line between cinematic and gameplay to maintain the involvement of the player. They can be seen as a form of experiential integration designed to simulate involvement in a particular moment of the avatar’s story. The input device, be it a keyboard, controller, a mouse, or a mobile phone, is used to its fullest extent to provide some kind of sensation that simulates what you see on screen[...]
But this simulation of physical sensation is, of course, an ideal which many QTEs spectacularly fail to reach, often simply reducing QTEs to basic reflex challenges.
Speaking of physical sensations, over on her blog Mattie Brice looks poetically and thought-provokingly at how our physical bodies are present or not when we play games. She believes that the body is marginalized in play in favor of being seen as "one large controller," and she protests that "[o]ur bodies are the site of play, where meaning occurs, willing or not." From this she draws broader political conclusions, such as:
There is a resistance because bodies are complicated. Incorporating subject(ivitie)s decentralizes the game object and forces designers and critics to ponder the infinite relationships bodies can have with an experience. Controllers in particular throttle the ways bodies can be recognized in the design, and is probably the main agent in the absence of body subjectivity in critique. It is impossible to know how another’s bodily reaction will be to an experience, and that exactitude is only necessary for products that promise it. That class critique is also underrepresented might hint as to why these sorts of connections are rarely traversed outside of particular, minoritized niches. Right on the surface, the lack of awareness of bodies assumes a typical body, most definitely excluding those who don’t have it and their experiences.
Stepping away from the buttons we push to what those buttons do in a game, L. Rhodes takes a look at the interactions in Gone Home from a mechanics point of view, exploring how the controls, or "terms of interaction," given their basis in first-person shooter mechanics, require a familiarity that may not entirely serve the game. Far-removed from the "is this really a game?" argument the internet enjoys over Gone Home and other exploration games, this article suggests that:
Gone Home really only requires you to move around the house, clicking on items to examine and move them. I see no reason why the terms of interaction shouldn’t be more limited.
Among other things, that would make the game more accessible, both to videogame novices and to players with physical disabilities.
Lastly, Lulu Blue takes a look at Monster Hunter's mechanics in a positive light. The article recounts a particularly thrilling experience, concluding that "[t]hat moment wouldn’t have came to exist without every layer of complexity crafted into the game. So many moving parts also means there’s just as much space for creative, unexpected solutions."
Perhaps We Both Enjoy Roleplaying Games?
Games can let us be new people or explore different parts of ourselves. Heather O at FemHype looks at the relationship between videogames, daily stress, and PTSD, exploring the role that simulated combat has played in her life as a disabled veteran. She links to several studies on this topic that are sure to be interesting to anyone who thinks about the ramifications of games as oftentimes-violent roleplaying experiences.
Looking at roleplay from a personality-focused perspective, an article over at Big Fat Phoenix asks if how we roleplay can change who we are. The author considers how their own relationship to roleplaying in games has changed over the years and what it reveals about their personality and morals, especially as they age.
If you make games in which you'd like people to roleplay, Extra Credits made a video about it this week! They look at how to encourage roleplay and how to make it meaningful in your game's world, and, as always, they do it through energetic cartoons.
Do You Have Thoughts About the Videogames Industry?
Over at The Guardian, Ian G. Williams revisits the issue of crunch in game development and how it has and hasn't changed since the infamous "EA spouse" post of 10 years ago. Williams points out that, according to surveys, the average age of people working in game development hasn't changed much, and this perpetually youthful and oftentim
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