I’m in my Existentialist Lit class the other day and we’re discussing Franz Kafka’s “A Hunger Artist.” We get into an in-depth conversation on the nature of art, specifically about the process of creating art. I say that I never feel that I’ve finished a piece of writing. I’m one of those people who rewrites and rewrites and rewrites and are never satisfied. I can’t look through the archives of my AllRPG columns without wanting to change a word or rephrase something or tighten a paragraph.

One of my friends then starts talking about Tibetan Buddhist sand mandalas. Basically, they’re a painting made by pouring colored sand into specific patterns. It’s a meditative process. They’re really beautiful--look them up some time. Probably the most amazing thing about the mandalas is after they’re created, they’re immediately destroyed. These things take weeks to make, and they’re destroyed. It’s remarkably symbolic on several layers. There’s the obvious underlying meaning of creation’s impermanence. More deeply, and more importantly in my opinion, is the statement that the glory is in the process. The goal of creating a sand mandala is not to have a sand mandala; it’s a purifying, meditative creation for its own sake.

So me being the nerd that I am, I immediately began thinking of the concept’s relationship to video games. I realized something. Games can fall into one of two categories: ending- or goal-centric, in which one plays a game in order to finish it; and play-centric, in which one plays a game in order to have the experience of play. Originally, play-centric games were all that were available; as time went on, games became more ending-centric. I see the pendulum shifting towards a synthesis of the two.

It’s like this: Almost all of the early video games had no ending, no goal but to beat the high score. The fundamental experience of playing, say, Space Invaders is going to be the same from hour one to hour five thousand. Difficulty will increase—in Space Invaders, actually, all that increases is the speed of the game rather than any level design—but there are no plot twists, no changes in mechanics, no real new graphics. There is nothing new that remains unseen. There’s no incentive to keep playing Space Invaders other than the fact that it’s fun to play.

Obviously, multi-player games fit very easily into this category. In high school, when we wanted to play games together, we always played Mario Kart 64. We always picked the same characters. There are a finite number of levels. It wasn’t long before we’d seen all the game has to offer. Still, each time we played was as interesting as the last—even moreso as we began to memorize the courses and find new ways to attack each other. Obviously, a game played with four people is going to have more freshness to it than a game played with one person—four people are going to react to each other in different ways each time, whereas a one-player platformer is set into eventually memorizable patterns^[1]. Still, the point remains: These games are not played with every second leading towards an ending. Each second of play is its own reward.

Ending-centric games, which one plays in order to see the final movie sequence, are the exact opposite. In the best-case scenario, an ending game has extremely traditional, uninspired gameplay that might still be technically functional and solid; in its worst incarnations, the designers very obviously slack on the gameplay. Look to almost every single game made by Square for an example. Square’s RPGs are very heavy on the storyline, as we all know. They manage to make some extraordinarily complex and oftentimes elegant plotlines, and that’s truly the focus of their games. They’re also extraordinarily ending-centric. One plays a Square game in order to see its ending.

I’m going to argue that one rarely, if ever, plays an RPG for the mere experience of the play. It’s mainly a question of semantics, but if someone’s playing for an hour just running around getting into battles, he says, “I’m levelling.” He doesn’t say, “I’m playing.” “Playing” implies enjoying the battles on their own merits. “Leveling” is a drudgery—a tedious task undertaken in order to make characters strong enough to overcome the next task. In fact, it’s considered detrimental nowadays for an RPG to require hours of leveling. It detracts from the storyline, you see^[2].

Each style of game has its pros and cons. Play-centric games are just plain fun; ending-centric games generally less so. However, Play-centric games are often shallowly plotted, wheras ending-centric games excel in that department. I’m not saying one or another is better; I play both, and I’ve immediately restarted both types of games after beating them. However, it’s for different reasons. I restart an ending-centric game because there are nuances of the storyline that I would like to understand; I restart play-centric games because I enjoyed the experience much.

I realize I’ve characterized play-centric games as being mostly action/platformer games and ending-centric as being RPGs, and while that’s generally the case, it’s not always. Metal Gear Solid, for one, is a solid action title, but its focus is definitely on the ending. Many PC-style RPGs are play-centric—Fallout being a great example. It has a lot of options that you can take, and it becomes different depending on how you create your character. Sadly, on the console market, most games are ending-centric. Theoretically, the most recent play-centric RPG to come out for the console market is Unlimited SaGa—certainly people weren’t invested in the plot. But we all know my thoughts on that.

In recent months, I’ve seen two games that quite masterfully struck a balance between being play-centric and being ending-centric. Disgaea and Dark Cloud 2 both had entertaining, interesting storylines. They also had the remarkable ability to be interesting when not advancing the storyline. They did this in slightly different ways. Disgaea’s main distraction is the Item World—basically a series of randomly generated levels which strengthen your equipment as you complete them. Disgaea’s battle system is remarkably solid, and therefore playing through the Item World does not degenerate into dull leveling---it remains challenging and interesting. At the same time, there’s an interesting and entertaining storyline.

Dark Cloud 2 remains play-centric by being just so massive. There are two main minigames—golf and fishing—that you can do after clearing most levels. There’s an “invention” system where you can build items. There are sidequests you need to do to get characters to join your party. There’s a town building simulator that, while not SimCity level, is interesting in its own right. Each level has special goals that can be completed for bonuses. In short, there’s just so much to do that if you want to just putter around doing the optional bits, you can, and it won’t get dull. Meanwhile, a plot’s developing around you, and it gives enough motivation to encourage completion.

If Disgaea and Dark Cloud 2 represent a trend, then that shall be one trend I will be completely supportive of. See, I like playing games. I like detailed stories. I don’t like the fact that generally one of those aspects overshadows the other. A future where play-centric games and ending-centric games is one I’d like to be living in.

Om.

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Footnotes:

1) Which is, of course, not a bad thing—Ninja Gaiden, for example, is only winnable after one memorizes each level.Return

2) Yes, I realize, I’m simplifying for the purposes of my thesis. I know there are people who enjoy leveling Tidus to Level 99 and getting all the sigils and things. I am not one of those people. To me, they’re just overcompensating and trying to find gameplay where there is none. But then again, I am a jerk who doesn’t like anything, so my opinion might not be that valid.Return