Your Hot Cup of Rant

So, Roger Ebert is back on his high and mighty horse about how games aren’t art.

Ahem:

Yes, I am aware of the hypocrisy.

That’s really all I should HAVE to say, but since I have a self-imposed word limit, let’s move onward a bit.

Now, “art” can simply be defined as “the products of human creativity”. That’s it. Simple, isn’t it? Problem solved. Ebert, of course, can’t just accept this as it is and moves on to refine his opinion by noting that games, as he understands them (which is to say, not at all) cannot be “high art”.

The dictionary definition of high art, as near as I can find it, is “art which deals with lofty and dignified subjects and is characterized by an elevated style avoiding all meretricious display”. In other words, high art is dignified treatment of subjects in a way that is respectful and not tacky. This essentially disqualifies, oh, ninety percent of all artistic things ever, which is what we would call an “asshole tactic”. But let us press on. More modern definitions of “high art” essentially denote that high art is “perfect art”, which is honestly an impossibility; so long as someone somewhere dislikes your art, it is not “perfect”.

But let us trudge on anyway.

Ebert’s definition of “high art” is inclusive of the works of Shakespeare, a man who wrote to cater to the interests of the public of the time, talent be damned. Not to split hairs, but comparing modern artistic interpretation to “high art” that is over four hundred years old is, well, pretty unfair. It would, I think, be more fair and appropriate to compare video games to, say, modern movies or books as an artistic medium; this way, at least you’re working within similar time periods (though Ebert, I would imagine, would argue that most movies are not, in fact, high art either, as is his right).

The article in question essentially is Ebert debating a monologue delivered by Clive Barker at the Hollywood and Games Summit, as Ebert seems to believe that Barker is somehow more qualified to discuss the merits of high art than, oh, most gamers. Is he right? Probably. But Barker, he of “Hellraiser”, “Candyman” and “Rawhead Rex” fame, is not the man I would choose to represent the artistic merits of the medium. Pinhead is an interesting villain, absolutely, but Barker is, generally speaking, a mediocre writer, and most of his films run the gamut from “average” to “outright abysmal”.

The fact that Ebert himself has a variable opinion of Clive Barker flims seems to elude him in this “debate”. I find that funny for some reason.

Regardless, the debate as it is raises an interesting question: what, exactly, is “high art”? Ebert highlights, at most, two examples of “high art”: the works of Edgar Allen Poe and William Shakespeare. While that might be a fairly small list, it serves Ebert’s purposes well enough: it illustrates an impossibly high standard to which one must conform, while simultaneously serving to promote that Ebert does, in fact, “know” what high art is without really attempting to qualify it. It’s an incredibly simple argument that has serviced the uses of others time and again: pick two things most people will agree are “TEH BEST!!!11!” in a particular category, state that they are, in fact, the best, then note how nothing in a comparable category will ever compare.

“Hollywood actors today are so feminine; none of them compare to the heyday of manly men like John Wayne and Cary Grant.”

“Music is so terrible today; no one will ever be as good as The Stones and the Beatles in their prime.”

You get the point.

Now, Ebert really only makes ONE distinct observation to note why video games will NEVER be “high art”: because the player can influence the outcome of the proceedings. This is and will forever be the crux of his argument: so long as the player can make the choices, he argues, he or she dictates the game experience and therefore manipulates it, thus devaluing the artistic merit of the product.

This is the logistical equivalent of saying “Choose Your Own Adventure books let you decide how the story ends; ergo, books will never be high art”. While it is true to say that CYOA books will never be “high art” given those EXTREMELY strenuous demands, to apply this viewpoint to the entire medium is, frankly, absurd.

Most video games are linear to a fault, okay? For every Fable, there is a Halo; for every Fallout, there is a Final Fantasy, et cetera. Grand Theft Auto III, the game of “sandbox” stylistic where you can go anywhere and do anything, has ONE FUCKING ENDING. ONE. UNO. SINGULAR. You play through the experience until you get to the end of the storyline and then, poof, you win exactly as the developers intended you to. I mean, hell, forget GTA III for a minute. You could walk into EBGames, have someone blindfold you and spin you around, and you could meander about until you grabbed virtually ANYTHING, and chances are significant that you will either grab a title for which there is no underlying narrative (which would therefore disqualify it), or a title where there is an underlying narrative, and it is linear.

This is not a difficult concept. “Interacting” with the product is not the same thing as “influencing the outcome”.

Here’s a simple example to expand the concept in a way that makes sense for all parties involved. A video game like Madden ‘07 or some variant of DDR is like a book of crossword puzzles; it is there to entertain and occupy, nothing more. Can they be visually artistic? Absolutely. But is the underlying product art? Probably not. Something from the Carmen Sandeigo series would be equivalent to a math book: it serves an underlying purpose of trying to inform the user, and while you may well derive entertainment from it, the goal of the product is to inform, be it directly or indirectly. No one is accusing that of having artistic merit. Could it? Maybe, but probably not.

With me so far? Good.

Now, the “multiple endings” game, IE where one can achieve multiple endings within the confines of one product… say, Shin Megami Tensei: Nocturne, can be compared to a CYOA book. Maybe you turn the world back to normal. Maybe you ally with a friend who has become a demonic entity. Maybe you suck Satan’s cock forever. Whatever. It’s really up to you. Do these have artistic merit? Absolutely. Are they “high art”? By the above definition, no, not really.

Which then brings us to the “linear plot progression” game design. I know what everyone (AND I MEAN EVERYONE) has been dragging out of the mothballs, but honestly, I’m just not in the mood to say “ME TOO SHADOW OF THE COLOSSUS FTW!” so I’m going to work with Okami here. Rest assured, I absolutely do think SotC is “high art” and is fully deserving of the wankery associated with the situation, but I’d prefer to be at least a little divergent here.

So, Okami. Linear plot progression. Singular ending. Absolutely artistically amazing in all possible respects. Is it “high art”? Maybe, maybe not. I happen to think it MIGHT be, though I imagine Roger Ebert would disagree. That’s not the issue. The issue is, “why”?

Were he to take umbrage with the storytelling aspects or the visuals or the overall presentation of the product as an artform, I could wholly accept this. Were he to find fault with some artistic element of the product, I could perhaps see his point, or at least understand where he was coming from on the whole.

But if the argument is “because you interact with it”, I have no use for him or his antiquated opinions.

I can skip pages when reading “The Raven” or “The City in the Sea” or “Romeo and Juliet” or “Othello”. Does this devalue the artistic presentation? I’m INTERACTING with the book, aren’t I? I have to to read the story to appreciate the art, right? I can fast-forward a Hitchcock film on VHS or DVD, does this remove the artistic merit from the product? If I use the shuffle feature on my CD player, does that render Bach or Chopin any less artistic in their endeavors?

Of course not.

Interacting with the product does not make it “not art”. It doesn’t even make it “not high art”. It makes it “interactive”. To appreciate the “artistic merit”, you have to interact with the product. That’s the beginning and end of it. You influence the world to move the story along and progress towards the inevitable conclusion. The end. The artist still retains full control of the narrative and the flow of events; all you control is the periods in-between. You do not dictate the narrative, you do not control the flow of events, all you do is move from one event to the next, performing tasks that, ultimately, are of no tangible consequence to the narrative; if you fail, you may try again, and if you succeed, you progress the story along the path the developer has designed.

The argument that interacting with a product, even for so simple a reason as to progress the chain of events forward, immediately devalues the artistic merit of the piece is ignorant. It is the opinion of an elitist, an opinion borne from the belief that the possessor of said opinion is of greater knowledge than those below him, and that BECAUSE he is of such great knowledge, he can impose his viewpoint upon others and they should respect it, even in disagreement.

Roger Ebert is a pompous ass. His opinion is of little to no merit because, honestly, he does not understand the medium and does not care to. He is not “prejudiced”, he is not “closed minded”, he simply “does not give a shit”. Video games mean not a drop of piss to him in the grand scheme of things, and they most likely never will. All those who are bent out of shape over his OPINION (and that’s all it is, people) need to understand that he, essentially, does not care. If he truly did, he WOULD go out of his way to play the games others recommend to him and provide an opinion of their genuine artistic merit beyond “You interact with it, therefore it isn’t art”.

He does not, because he does not care. To him, it is irrelevant. He feels that he is correct, and he perhaps could be, but it does not interest him to decide otherwise. He is, at best, interested in defending his opinion of why video games are not art, and at worst, interested in generating additional traffic for his website and additional controversy around his name so that he may continue to remain “relevant” in an age where most have long since stopped giving a shit about his mediocre existence. He does not feel any sort of impetus to perhaps experience the fruits of the video game media and, perhaps, formulate an argument that says “this is not high art because of its plodding narrative, tedious characters, and uninteresting physical world”, instead of an argument that is based solely on a flimsy premise borne from an ancient mentality.

Look, Ebert has nothing to say on the topic that anyone of even average intelligence should consider important. While the phrase “one should have an open mind” is often a thinly veiled attempt at saying “THINK MOAR LIKE ME”, in this case it is wholly valid. When the entirety of your argument is based on one single elitist concept that keeps you from more readily analyzing the greater subtexts of the matter, you are a closed-minded dinosaur who has seen the meteor coming directly at your skull and, rather than take steps to evade it, has chosen to face the burning space rock head on. And while this is also fine, that you continue to assert this opinion as if it were some sort of opinion others should hold instead of an antique we ought not even dignify as an existent thing is, frankly, asinine.

I mean, let’s be fair about this here. Very few games, save for their artistic interpretation, could be considered “high art” in any sense of the word. SMT: Nocturne, Digital Devil Saga, the first Metal Gear Solid and Rule of Rose might qualify if not for their variable endings based on player choices, which is fine. Products like Shadow of the Colossus, ICO, the various Zelda titles, Okami, Yakuza and the Shenmue games might qualify to different degrees, but may well be held back because of their artistic interpretations, dialog, characterization, or any number of other problems that may keep them from achieving greatness or anything similar. But, instead of focusing on what is DIRECTLY wrong with the medium (and believe me, there’s a lot, no doubt about it), Ebert discards the entire medium in a heartbeat because of one fundamental difference between his chosen artistic medium and ours: the ability to interact with the product and immerse ourselves within the world the artist has created to an even greater degree than any movie could possibly hope to allow.

Congratulations, Ebert. You have become an internet troll. Does this please you? Does this, perhaps, fill your rotund little body with joy? Mayhap it motivates you to make some sort of bowel movement? Whatever. You are the product of an antiquated way of thinking, and while I’m certain that Beyond the Valley of the Dolls and Beneath the Valley of the Ultra-Vixens might, perhaps, be closer to your artistic cup of tea, the rest of us will be happy to play Indigo Prophecy and Sherlock Holmes: The Awakened in our land of artistic heathens until such a time as opinions like yours become obsolete purely by virtue of the raising of the collective sanity of the populace.

Until that time, the world needs an enema.