Games as art?
There was a lot of talk last summer about whether or not video games (and I include computer games in this, since there is still a distinction, though it is beginning to blur) can be considered “art.” The convention wisdom both in and outside of the gaming media seems to be “no,” and I think this is arguably still the case, although games are starting to creep across the line.
Although I tend not to see as much a distinction between entertainment and art as others, not all creative endeavors can be considered art. Art to me transcends its medium — it evokes emotion or ideas, stirs controversy, has some quality that makes it greater than what it is on the surface.
Many of the games I play are pretty far from “art.” Most first person shooters or action games are little more than action figure sets for adults, allowing us to play army like we did when we were kids, but without the stigma of grown men running around in the back yard with plastic machine guns. Alas, most of my gaming experiences fall into that category.
Some games, like World of Warcraft, offer more of a theme-park environment, allowing players to band together and go on virtual rides within each other. Yes, it has a vast and attractive world to explore, but that world has all of the authenticity of a sword and sorcery Busch Gardens.
But there have been games that border on art. Final Fantasy VII, Halo:CE, Halo 2 and Planescape: Torment all evoked a strong emotional reaction and had some interesting things to say about the human condition. Splinter Cell was never a game I thought I’d add to the list, but the latest installment in the long-running stealth series, Splinter Cell Double Agent, is coming close.
There’s a scene just following the first level in the game where Sam Fisher, the series protagonist, learns that his daughter has died. In his grief, he tosses his visor — often used as an iconic symbol for the series — out the window of the Osprey vehicle that has just evacuated him from his latest mission. We watch as it sinks beneath the surface of the North Atlantic, disappearing into the deep. Not only does it symbolize that the character, Sam Fisher, has lost some part of himself, it’s also a metaphor for the game itself, which abandons many of its past conventions in favor of a new approach.
Granted, most of Splinter Cell Double Agent is spent lurking around on stealth missions, but this is a strong character moment heretofore unheard of in the series. And with the game’s emphasis on moral compromise, there’s a good case to be made that Splinter Cell does more than entice the player to break a few spines — it addresses the choices and their effect on the character. It’s a step forward in terms of game design, and it also furthers the argument that some games at least can be more than mere entertainment.
