On last week’s GDC ListenUp special, the three amigos John Davison, Garnett Lee, David Ellis, chatted with God Of War creator David Jaffe about the dominance of empowered supermen/women as protagonists in videogames. Their discussion started around the difference between Western and Eastern tastes in protagonists. The American palette leans towards the militaristic hero archetype, the one man, muscle bound army who, plagued by existential angst or not, can solve every problem with brawn. The Japanese audience prefers youthful androgyny, characters either brimming with naïve confidence or crushed under the weight of responsibility for civilization. The ListenUP crew went on to lament that there is seemingly no place in either culture for the Peter Parker/Spider-man archetype, characters who are empowered, but deeply flawed, whether by insecurity or another humanizing debility.
They’re right of course. I can point to a selection of flawed, humanized characters in games; Oddworld’s Munch and Abe are iconic inhuman outsiders made relatable through fragility and Ico’s horned protagonist is so memorable because of his incompetence and weakness. Gaming’s more literary canon, the adventure genre, is also populated by relatable humanized leads like Farenheit’s Carla Valenti and Lucas Kane or Dreamfall’s Zoe. But these icons make up a significant minority in the world of character-based and narrative-driven videogames. If Peter Parker and his alter-ego are the most profitable fictional characters in contemporary media, why are characters like him so under-represented in videogames? Why are our game protagonists so rigidly defined by complete empowerment? Where are our emotional, and our actual, cripples?
Amidst the game industry April Fool’s detritus, Sony quietly announced their first Jak and Daxter game in some years. Only a handful of screens were released, but they indicate a blend of aesthetics from the franchise’s history; the verdant greens of The Precursor Legacy coupled with the wizened, gun-toting hero of that game’s sequels. Chances are Jak and Daxter: The Lost Frontier on PSP won’t explore this emotional territory, but I’m fascinated by the potential of Jak as a character. Jak originated as a plucky silent protagonist, wide-eyed and young, looking for adventure and finding the opportunity to save the world. He was a distinctly Eastern sort of hero in a Western game. Jak 2 transformed him into an angry, violent anti-hero, given greater power through weaponry and a corrupting inner force to go along with a newfound voice. With his return on the PSP, developer High Impact Games has the opportunity to take the road less travelled. An older, wiser Jak, maybe even a weakened one, who has come to terms with a violent past catching up to him. They could inject what would otherwise be a typical flight of character fancy with true emotional heft. Let Jak understand weakness in addition to pain, and make the game something wholly original.
That won’t happen of course. There’s no profit in it. But the example should hold true for other game makers out there. The road to making affecting game characters and stories doesn’t end with making them look real. It ends with making them feel real.
Related links:
Character Case Study: When Good Characters Get Bad Attitudes
The Ten Most Adventurous Sequels in Gaming History
Linearity is Not a Dirty Word
Finally, Some Info On Dreamfall Chapters