As games have become more sophisticated, so too has their analysis, and there is a wealth discussion on the notion of game designers as 'auteurs' - a word more traditionally used in reference to film directors who are considered to have a unique and identifiable style to their work.
However, unlike in film criticism, which has had several decades to refine the tenets of what makes an auteur, the use of the term in gaming is malleable, since games are so inherently different to films. Games are often defined by their development studios rather than individual directors, the product of many pairs of hands rather than one; companies such as Insomniac and Valve have an identifiable style, but the flat organisation of their staff on display in their credits lacks the authorial stamp of the film director.
Some of the greatest game auteurs as we know them may share more in common with architects or installation artists than film directors. They express creativity through the spaces they create, and the interactions therein. Directors such as David Cage are sometimes referred to as auteurs, but that has a lot to do with their extreme deference to the conventions of cinema. Creatives such as Naughty Dog's Neil Druckmann and Amy Hennig, meanwhile, are excellent writers, but have yet to establish a thematic consistency in their world-building.
If you ask me, the best game designers are those who allow for the maximum degree of player interpretation in assessing their work while managing to maintain a consistent tone and atmosphere in their output. Play a game made by one of these creators, and you know it’s come from them. As interactive experiences games are almost unique in this regard. Here are five designers who best testify to this design philosophy: five of gaming’s best architects.
Handholding, that death knell for the hardcore, is not a concept with which Miyazaki seems familiar - his games plunge the player into an environment that leaves only a meagre trail of breadcrumbs to follow. Although his first directorial efforts include two entries in the austere mech series Armored Core, it is the Souls series for which he is most known.
Inspired by the Western fantasy fiction he enjoyed growing up, Miyazaki's Souls games offer a uniquely Eastern perspective on the conventions of the genre. He drew particular inspiration from the Fighting Fantasy series, a collection of choose-your-own-adventure stories, many of which were written by Eidos president Ian Livingstone. He has cited his lack of English command while reading these books as an inspiration for the storytelling in the Souls series, which forces the player to use their imagination to fill in the blanks in a similar manner.
His games are also notable for their sparing use of music and lack of cut scenes, environmental hazards which encourage careful traversal (narrow pathways over high drops are a favourite), and areas of almost complete darkness. He also has a penchant for obfuscating game mechanics that encourage player experimentation.
Keita Takahashi designs playgrounds. That isn't a metaphor for his games, he literally does design playgrounds for children, but this facet of his creative output shows in his games too, which are charming enough to bring the big kid out of the most hardened of hearts. "In Japan, people who play games are called 'users.' I think games should be played. Perhaps it's minute, but that bothered me. We just throw around the term users and that bothers me," he claimed at GDC in 2009.
He is most famous for PS2 cult classics Katamari Damacy and We Love Katamari, as well as PS3 oddity Noby Noby Boy. This triptych of rainbow-bright Japanese cheer encapsulates both Takahashi’s pop art leanings and gameplay philosophy. Both Katamari and Noby Noby Boy feature playable characters that affect their environment the larger they become; Katamari’s Prince rolls a ball around the environment sweeping up objects in a snowball effect, while Noby Noby Boy’s listless caterpillar chap causes increasing chaos to his township as he stretches out his wibbly body.
Takahashi's games also tend to feature whimsical stories that share a sense of celestial purpose belying their cutesy visuals, as the Prince tries to rebuild the night sky his father destroyed and Noby’s BOY endeavours to reach the outer limits of our solar system. Takahashi also likes to touch on environmental themes in his games; the Prince's ever-distending ball of 'stuff' is an alleged commentary on the waste and materialism of modern society.
It seems that any of the far-too-many forum threads pertaining to the 'are games art?' question is incomplete without mention of Fumito Ueda. In an Edge interview from 2008, Pan's Labyrinth and Pacific Rim director Guillermo del Toro boldly claimed "There are only two games I consider masterpieces: Ico and Shadow of the Colossus."
The sparsity of Ueda’s output - two games since 2001, and his third, The Last Guardian, in apparent developmental limbo - has fueled the Ueda mythos, lending him a status akin to the games industry's answer to Terrence Malick. His softly-lit worlds suggest a deep history and mythology, but provide only basic details, allowing the player to fill in the blanks.
In Ico, we know that the titular hero is cast out from his tribe in the beginning for his horns, but we aren't told why this is such an offence. In Shadow of the Colossus, we know the protagonist Wander is fighting to bring a girl named Mono back to life, but we don't know how or why she died. The lack of back story and dialogue lends his games the quality of a folk tale. He is talented at creating stories which manage to feel both epic and personal at the same time, on account of using his environments to dwarf his small cast of characters.
His work has been cited as an influence by several designers, including Hideo Kojima and Fumito Ueda; No More Heroes' Goichi Suda meanwhile, counts him as his favourite video game designer of all time. Indie darlings such as Limbo, Superbrothers: Sword & Sworcery EP and Kentucky Route Zero all owe him an aesthetic debt.
Chahi has directed only three games in over twenty years; the massively influential cinematic platformer Another World in 1991, its much-maligned spiritual successor Heart of Darkness in 1998, and the excellent god sim From Dust in 2011. His games tend to expose the player's vulnerability through certain design choices, particularly the cruelty of nature; both Another World and Heart of Darkness feature heroes who are presented as rather weak physically, and almost anything in the game can kill them in one hit.
Another World sets the tone in its very first moments by forcing the player to run away from danger almost immediately. In From Dust, the villagers also lose their lives very easily, which feels like a comment on the futility of the player's attempt to fight the awesome forces of nature. In Another World it is an apparent act of god that forces tampering physicist Lester Chaykin into his terrible situation in the first place.
Chahi is also notable for his naturalistic use of sound, an influence that can be heard in Team Ico's work. In Another World and Heart of Darkness, the patter of the heroes' footsteps is punctuated by the howl of the wind or murmurs of fauna, while in From Dust we are treated to a symphony of crashing waves, shifting sands and the occasional haunting sound of a villager's pipe.
Minter represents a decidedly British eccentricity largely lost in modern gaming, and is perhaps the ultimate garage codie. His psychedelic visual style, playfully surreal spins on existing genres, the sheer volume of his output and his obsession with llamas are all among his early hallmarks, while his later work would mark him out as a pioneer of the synaesthesia genre.
His early work tends to consist of bizarre spins on established shoot-'em-up and platform concepts, including Gridrunner, Attack of the Mutant Camels and Hover Bovver, which captures the heady excitement and danger of cutting the grass with a neighbour's lawn mower (he later produced a sequel, Grand Theft Flymo).
In the 1990s, he gained attention for his interpretation of 80s arcade classic Tempest, with Tempest 2000 on the Jaguar and Tempest 3000 on the Nuon, and more recently has found a home with PC and XBLA. While his more recent releases still contain traces of his off-kilter comedic style, they have become increasingly psychedelic, peaking with the eye-watering shooter Space Giraffe in 2007 on XBLA, which saw a slightly neutered PC release the following year.
These aren't gaming's only recognisable creators. Who else would you call a gaming auteur, and what are the common qualities that distinguish their work? Join the discussion below.
Ewen Hosie really likes the word freelancer, as it makes him sound like a starfaring sci-fi hero. He hails from Parts Unknown, and by Parts Unknown we mean Scotland. He is known to skulk around on Twitter.
Source : ign[dot]com
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