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How Portal 2 touched off a domestic World War 3

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Thursday, June 30, 2011
EDITOR'S NOTEfrom Demian Linn

Kate outlines a Portal 2-related domestic disagreement that is, fittingly, about a potato.

One of the longest, deepest arguments my spouse and I have ever had (and we've known each other since 1997) took place during the first week of Portal 2's release. It happened in slow motion over three days and was, frankly, exhausting. And what caused this argument?

In its purest form, the fight was over Chell's moral compass and consistency as a character. Yes, really.

But first, a little background. I follow #AltDevBlogADay on Twitter. It's true, I don't understand most of the heavily technical posts or discussions (a coder I am not), but I do find it fascinating to see what industry and development trends designers are talking about. And every now and then, a true gem comes along that I do understand....

 

Animator Mike Jungbluth recently shared a post titled What does your game believe in? It's a fairly lengthy piece, but here are a couple crucial excerpts:

From the characters that we control, the world they live in, and how the player interacts with each, if the core beliefs are consistent and persistent, that will be felt on an incredibly deep level. In fact, you could even call it the heart and soul of a game. That sort of special X-factor that helps to make a game feel more alive than even a bigger-budget game sitting next to it on the shelf.

But like having beliefs in real life, it is a double-edge sword. As soon as those beliefs are called into question, your entire reality can become questionable. The deeper or more core to the person or world the belief, the further everything can come crashing down the moment they are betrayed.

And:

Beyond just model sheets and reference for movements, really think about what drives the character forward. What has lead them to the point they are at when the game starts, and where do they draw the line in their world as to what they believe in? Do their beliefs change or grow as the game progresses?

Do they mind getting their hands dirty or are they reluctant to do so? Both can allow for the same overall gameplay and creation of assets, but being aware of what they believe can make what happens before, during, and after all the more meaningful when the animations or dialog matches those beliefs. This goes for not only the character but the player. In fact, going a step further, this is how we can even begin to color the player’s beliefs, and make them question their own values versus those of the characters in the game.

One thing I love about this article is that, without using the exact words, it basically translates into: "Hey, people, write real, fully fleshed-out, plausible characters in your games!" That's a piece of advice I can most certainly get behind.

It's worth noting that both times that I have attended a panel on female characters in gaming (in 2009 and again in 2010, both at PAX East), the conversation around character writing quickly lapses into a festival of complaints. Our female characters are badly written and one-dimensional, the cry goes -- but someone quickly adds, "And so are the men." And it's often true.

As the full text of the article cited above points out, Uncharted's Nathan Drake has all of the depth and consistency of a washcloth. I love the Uncharted franchise, but that's kind of in spite of itself. Drake is a fun character, but Jungbluth is completely correct to observe that cut-scene Drake and player-driven Drake basically have two completely different sets of beliefs and priorities, and I find that sort of writing jarring.

Which brings me, finally, back to Portal 2. A series of events in the game create [spoiler alert!] a situation where your arch-nemesis, the AI GLaDOS, resides within the not-very-sinister confines of a potato battery. The beginning of chapter 6 separates Chell and GLaDOS, but at the end of chapter 6 you and your 1.1 volts of spudly evil reunite, and in order to progress from chapter 6 to chapter 7, the player has to pick up and then carry the potato/bad guy.

And what about this angered my spouse so? In his own words:

The overarching plot of Portal 1 is really Chell vs. GLaDOS. In Portal 2, GLaDOS is pretty bitter about it and continues to try to kill Chell in myriad ways.

But then GLaDOS is rendered helpless and stashed in a potato. When you find the potato in 70s Aperture Science, she asks you to take her with you to replace Wheatley before he destroys the facility.

My problem: Why in God's name would anyone want to do that?

It makes no sense. Here's the malevolent AI who wants you dead, and she's asking you to help her. The only evidence that you have at that point that Wheatley might destroy Aperture are some distant rumbling sounds. GLaDOS is a proven schemer and liar, so you have little reason to trust her. She's exceedingly likely to betray you at the first opportunity. So why save her? Why bring her back to power? Why would Chell choose to trust her mortal enemy based on GLaDOS's word alone?

And even if she's right, what's the worst that happens? Aperture is destroyed, preventing anyone else from falling prey to its malevolent experiments. That doesn't sound so bad to me.

All I wanted to do when I found the potato was destroy it. Hurl it into the abyss. Mash it into a side dish and put gravy on it. But the game wouldn't let me. The game forced me as a player to act completely contrary to how I felt anyone would normally act. And I hated it for that.

I didn't have an issue with this plot development myself and neither did many (most?) players. But the other gamer in my household encountered the phenomenon that Jungbluth was writing about head-on -- a character-motivation dissonance so stark that his preference was to walk away from the PC rather than to complete one of the most acclaimed games of 2011.

All of this serves to remind us that good writing in games needs to be front and center, not secondary. As this industry, entertainment medium, and art form matures, the real crux of it all is what stories we're telling and how successfully we're telling them. Narrative and characterization must work in harmony, or else we'll find yet another reason to put down that controller (or mouse and keyboard, as the case may be).

 
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Comments (15)
Bruce
May 30, 2011

Hmmm, fascinating. I skipped the spoilers, but I really get what you're saying. I wish character development could be shaped more by the players. I have nothing against a good linear game, but the ability to actually change your characters personality is just wonderful.

Default_picture
July 01, 2011

There's been rather a lot of Fallout / Mass Effect time put in in this household, and I think it's starting to spoil me for totally linear gaming.  I didn't have a problem with Portal 2 because it engaged me very thoroughly in other ways, but having backtracked to a game like 2010's "Enslaved: Odyssey to the West," I'm really starting to chafe at the bounds of pre-defined character.

(Of course, part of that is just bad game writing.  I don't chafe at, say, Ezio's decision-making in the AC games.)

230340423
June 30, 2011

Awesome stuff. The example of character-motivation dissonance I always think of is GTA 4. The game makes an attempt to paint Niko in a somewhat sympathetic and logical light...but his actions just as sociopathic as any other GTA protagonist.

230340423
June 30, 2011

Also, as long as I'm thinking about it, this was one reason I really liked Mass Effect 2. I felt like it allowed me the freedom to act in exactly the ways my Shepard would act, even if I didn't strictly hew to the Paragon/Renegade binary.

And yeah, it kind of sucks that there are eventual gameplay penalties for not going fully one way or the other (I couldn't get Morinth on my team, for one thing), but the veracity with which I played my character made up for that.

Default_picture
July 01, 2011

My frustration was over being unable to resolve the Miranda / Jack dispute.  I got irrationally angry with Miranda over that one.

But yes, I did the same: Kate Shepard flies through the galaxy solving problems or shooting people with nuance, and a care for her moral core and for each situation.  Playing as straight paragon / renegade actually never occurred to me until I heard how many other people do it.

Blog
June 30, 2011

My thoughts: Whether you agree with one side or the other, if you're the type of person who loves Portal 2 (which I am) then you have to love complex discussions like this.  This is the kind of ultimate nerd argument that is finally creeping into gaming and I couldn't be happier about it. There's nothing better than an intellectually complex reaction to the gaming experience. Even a negative experience, when so clearly articulated, is a joy to read. This is the type of criticism that will help elevate the discussion of our medium. Awesome read.

Photo_159
June 30, 2011

@Steven

I couldn't agree more!

As for the task at hand...I feel like that sequence really added depth for me. I didn't know who to trust. It kept me pulling on the string waiting for the back stab. I must say I was pretty content with the conclusion. I think there are also some other 1000s of humans locked away in the bowels of aperture science - isn't that why Chell would be motivated to trust ***** even though *******'s "theory" might be a lie? Chell isn't just trying to secure her own freedom but that of all the others that may still be trapped? Honestly, I am more confused about how Chell is still in the facility...am I missing something didn't she already escape?I have my theories but I won't put them here because I don't know if they count as spoilers.

I think your point resonates more strongly with games like Mass Effect or Dragon Age where you are actually required to make decisions and the choices set out for you aren't always the best solution - but your stuck choosing one of them. I think there is a difference between games like that and Portal which has a story just like in a film where you don't really get to decided the course of action or plot events - you can only move forward through the plot by playing the game or watching the movie...or sit idle by not playing or hitting the pause button. Games are interactive, sure, but not really as far as story is concerned. 

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July 01, 2011

Between the release of Portal and Portal 2, Valve put out a patch that changes the ending of Portal ever so slightly, and in such a way that puts Chell back in Aperture for Portal 2.  ;)  Videos abound on YouTube.

You're right about the different levels of interactivity in gaming, and that's actually one of the things we fought about.  (Two stubborn, dedicated gamers in one marriage.  We can get into the nitty-gritty, hehe.)  And that was what really made the Jungbluth piece I cited leap out at me: if my spouse doesn't have a problem with character lack-of-choice in the Assassin's Creed, Uncharted, or God of War games, what made Portal 2 so different?  For him, it was a break in character and in moral consistency.
 

Robsavillo
July 01, 2011

Clint Hocking touched on something similar with BioShock, which he coined "ludonarrative dissonance," i.e., the clash between what the story suggests a character would do and what the gameplay encourages the player to do.

BioShock itself sort of plays to this idea in the confrontation with Andrew Ryan, where the narrative states that meaningful choice in video games is an illusion.

Heavy Rain gets a little closer to solving this problem because of enforced consequences and multiple outcomes. But the way modern design has evolved suggests that this conflict will only crop up again and again.

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July 01, 2011

The thing I continue to admire about Bioshock is the degree to which they used the abilities and limitations of gameplay mechanics as absolutely necessary devices to the telling of the story as well as to carry the themes and morals across.  Earlier this week while writing up another post on how camera views and framing tell stories in games, I basically had the realization that Bioshock totally pulls a Hitchcock on the player, and that's fantastic.

Heavy Rain is an interesting choice in that it's a better game if you don't examine it deeply.  Where Bioshock embraces the limitations of the medium and uses them to tell the (bleak) story, Heavy Rain casts a wall of illusion that those limitations aren't there, and that wall comes tumbling down on replays.  (Spouse & I played that one together - I've seen every single decision and ending that game has to offer, and there are surprisingly few branch points.)

Photo3-web
July 01, 2011

David Cage confirmed this "wall of illusion" in a recent IGN feature:

"My trick to do this is to create a situation providing a clear context for choices. By doing this, you limit the options of the player to what makes sense in the context. He has the feeling that the game allowed him to do whatever he wanted, although in fact he only did what was logical in the context. These options were limited enough so you could anticipate them and implement them."

http://pc.ign.com/articles/116/1165886p1.html

While I disagree that said limitations are blatantly obvious, they're clearly there. I also disagree with Cage that Heavy Rain should only be played once. The game tells a great story and is worth revisiting for its sense of atmospheric foreboding and sharp narrative.

Default_picture
July 01, 2011

What's more interesting than replaying Heavy Rain is watching other people play it.  We had a couple of months where we kept having weekend guests, and we'd boot up the PS3 and just let them play the whole game while they were visiting.  That way your foreknowledge and other-knowledge still apply, but the decision tree is in someone else's hands so you don't run the risk of making your own same moral choices.

(My father-in-law remains the only player yet to be so naive as to have Madison actually take the drink the doctor offers.)

Photo3-web
July 01, 2011

Agreed. Watching someone else (especially on their first playthrough) is great fun. And it's difficult for you to "spoil" anything for them, apart from how certain choices impact the story. I still remember a friend spoiling Aeris' death for me. Well, even if you told someone that a main character from Heavy Rain "died", you wouldn't be spoiling anything because of the branching narrative.

Actually, I screwed up the Madison scene the first playthrough, and intentionally flub it on subsequent playthroughs just to see that sweet action scene :-) But there's nothing like the first time--I felt a genuine sense of danger, especially with the foreknowledge that Madison could die.

230340423
July 01, 2011

The term "ludonarrative dissonance" pops up a lot in Tom Bissell's book Extra Lives, which is a great read if anyone hasn't checked it out. 

Also, I love you all for these comments. We're, like, totally smart and stuff. 

Default_picture
July 01, 2011

The only game I've ever walked away from for this reason was Prince of Persia (2008).  I did eventually go back and do what the game wanted me to just to see the ending, but I quit for a day first.  Anyone who's played it to the end knows what I'm talking about.

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