I attended last night's London-only event on videogames and film at the travelling resfest's NFT location, hoping for something that was outside of the regular remit for discussions of this sort. And, to be honest, I was disappointed with the result.
The programme was half-"owned" by Sony (quite literally - they set it up) to promote the release of their forthcoming driving-adventure title The Getaway 2: Black Monday, and the machinima that was on display was only marginally interesting.
Even the presence of the Red vs Blue boys, all the over from their Rooster Teeth studio in Austin, TX, was lacklustre and ill-prepared. However, it did generate quite a few questions in my mind, both about the nature of narrative in games and narrative in film, and stimulated some good discussion on the way home...
The first half of the presentation was dominated by the admittedly-adept skills of a pair of the production team of The Getaway, fastidiously explaining the process of developing a computer game. There were a few comparisons with film-making - only one of the two had any experience with that medium - and the predominant sense was that "making games is harder than making movies. We're great." While this might have sparked dialogue with a mixed audience of games and film creators, the make-up of the crowd was the usual suspects of London games-land and therefore seemed only to remind the gathered that The Getaway's in-house Sony team had big bucks for production, and that others were forced to create competitive products on the producers' less moneyed handouts.
The focus was on cut-scene and design narrative, with little to no detail on the game mechanics that may make interactive products more "cinematic", or even what that means. That was a little detail I hoped would have had an attempted answer, and would have set out this event from others that have come before. It also raised the question (in my mind at least) of whether narrative is important for a game experience, or if trying to crowbar it into a medium who's animation cannot compete with contemporary Hollywood visuals (and is therefore distracting) is wasteful and misguided. I don't disregard writer and Narrative Producer Katie Ellwood's contribution to The Getaway and to Getaway 2: Black Monday - and the 9000 lines of script that are included in the game - but if my past actions are anything to go by, I'll probably skip through them in favour of more gaming. Indeed, one of the comments from an audience member as I left the auditorium was "Why are games trying so hard to be like Hollywood? They don't need cut scenes to push the story forward. Look at Half Life." Indeed. There are no animated movies between action sequences there; information is passed on either through direct conversation with other characters or in overheard dialogue.
The second part of the evening kicked off with a DVD of machinima offerings that seemed limited in their - wait for it - narrative, and highlighted the difference between creating a product that was designed to be played versus designed to be watched.
Perhaps because machinima creators are restricted by the things that one can do in the games or the bugs which they find, they felt like they were made by a bunch of guys who thought "we've got the best multiplayer death matches EVER!" and decided it would be cool to record them, perhaps with a few unoriginal lines of dialogue to pad them out and set the "scene" (ext. daylight. three guys open a treasure chest. fight over who gets the booty). Just like the truly disappointing attempts to put this kind of thing on terrestrial TV, watching other people "do" multiplayer combat is just not interesting.
In contrast, the special Red vs Blue episode created for the event, "London Calling", was superb and featured the three main characters shooting the proverbial, with well-timed witty dialogue. That was what was entertaining, and the viewer actually was able to forget that they were watching in-game animations. Their efforts could easily turn into the next South Park.
In light of this, and the recent announcement that Rooster Teeth are working on a sit-com style series set in EA's The Sims 2, another question is raised. It reflects the debate that currently exists over the rights of players of massively multiplayer online games to sell game items for personal pocket money on auction sites like eBay: while Rooster Teeth currently have the blessing of the makers of both Halo and The Sims 2, what happens when this thing starts to grow so big that it creeps into mainstream consciousness? Who'll then own the likenesses, the dialogue and the creative content that's generated by production companies within publishers' products? The boys said EA currently have no editorial control over the forthcoming Strangerhood series, but what happens if the machinima treatment becomes more "inappropriate" for EA's worldwide brand?
There were quite a few questions left unanswered in both segments of last night's showcase, and it would have fared better primarily if the first part had been more broadly defined. I'd quite like to see a panel discussion with filmmakers who've had the opportunity to make a game and vice versa to highlight the uniqueness of both media, and areas where they may – or may not – learn from each other. That would have been worthwhile, and the audience might have been wider.
Otherwise, the resfest rocked.
