Roger Ebert Takes His Ball And Goes Home (But Why Are We Even Playing?)

A couple months ago, Roger Ebert demonstrated his considerable hubris and historical smug positioning (often forgotten due to the unfortunate health battles the man has gone through) by stating that games can never be art, despite, admittedly, not being a player of games. To most reading/watching, Ebert's position was clear. He was scared. Ebert was scared of games becoming a more powerful commercial entity than films (his beloved medium) and decided, since he had very little ability to influence their capital, to try and attack their cultural capital. It backfired. Not because he was wrong (which he was), but more because his motivations were so transparent. Today, Ebert recanted. Well, somewhat. Today, Ebert decided that instead of engaging in the debate he, himself, initiated, he is going to disengage from it without having to actually admit he was wrong. Read the article. Ebert's rhetorical strategy is not to say that, sure, games can be art, but to disqualify himself as someone who can speak on the subject of games as art. I disagree. He is someone who can speak on the subject of games as art. He is someone who can speak incorrectly on the subject of games as art.

Quick potshot: Ebert once named The Cell as the Best Film of the Year. Have you seen The Cell? If you have, you've realized that Ebert's opinions have always lacked a certain value, and his positions on films have always been more about him that the films... they have been espoused to present himself as someone who "sees what others do not see." He's always been self-serving, and still is... but he's a commercial critic. It stands to reason.

Back to games as art. This entry is not about if games are art (because, well, they are; if they weren't the debate of whether or not they are wouldn't exist) but about where and why this battle is being fought, and who has what stake in the battle.

First, the old guard of cultural gatekeepers (which Ebert fancies himself): These guys exist both in the masses and the academy. They see games as a threat to their industry of canonization (and my disgust with the very idea of an academic canon in this day and age is extremely high) because games, in their very construction, are popular culture. Games don't have the same history of patronage or adoption by economic elites that music and literature have, and they don't have the historical push to "art" status that film (not to mention that film's relationship to music and literature is very linear, a technological evolution more than a shift in expression). Games are often compared to film (which I think is one of the things that most ruffles Ebert's feathers) but they're phenomenologically dissimilar. (I promise to go into that phenomenological dissimilarity in a future entry.) I would argue that this phenomenological dissimilarity is what most confuses the old guard, most frightens them, because games do not work by the same logic of other media. By and large the old guard is anti-games-as-art, part to shore up their own position, and part because admitting to games as art requires a shift in thinking that is anything but easy to facilitate for those who have so long seen media from a fixed angle. Ebert retreated not because he actually thinks he lost the battle, but because he realizes even fighting the battle slowly erodes his position.

Second, game producers: The companies, designers, and other individuals involved in the creative and retail end of gaming have mixed feelings about games-as-art. For those involved in independent gaming, a widely recognized games-as-art gives them a viable niche to fill. Witness Braid or Flower. These games are inexpensive, digitally distributed, small-staff efforts that cannot sell themselves in same way as a big AAA title like Assassin's Creed II or Red Dead Redemption. I'm not saying those games are "not art games" (in the sense of "art games" being commercially analogous to "art cinema") but rather that they don't rely on the benefits of games-as-art the way the smaller titles do. I would argue that Red Dead Redemption is like Toy Story 3 in its ability to mix mass-market appeal with genuine emotion and artistry, but the "quality" of a game like Red Dead Redemption is not the same "quality" as Braid. Those looking for a "quality" game like Red Dead Redemption are looking for a well-constructed, well-designed, enjoyable but familiar play experience. Meanwhile, those looking for a "quality" game like Braid are looking for a play experience that challenges their preconceived notions of what play can be. Both are quality, but the "iconoclastic" nature of Braid benefits far more from an accepted games-as-art discourse. On the whole, the games industry wants games-as-art (especially on the creative production side) but the "little guy" game producers want it much, much more.

Lastly, players: This point I'm divided on. I imagine the vast majority of players who would read this blog would want games-as-art. The fans that frequents the commercial websites and blogs like kotaku.com and gamespot.com may be a little more divided between "yes" and "indifferent." That indifferent group, I believe, is a majority in gamers. While this debate gets a lot of attention on the Internet, there are so many players (young kids, casual gamers, gamers who only play specific genres) who couldn't care less. While I feel indifference is the mode, I don't think there are many players who want to sit on the anti-games-as-art bandwagon. It seems antithetical to me.

But with games-as-art, there comes a responsibility that I feel a lot of gamers aren't ready for, and that's the responsibility of games to be good art. I don't mean "good" as "quality," but "good" as "benevolent." As witnessed in the Resident Evil 5 debate of 2008 and 2009, quality games can have very non-benevolent (likely inadvertent) discursive power.

Does the world (or at least the world that cares enough about video games to talk about them or play them) want games-as-art? Yes. It's inevitable. Like I said above, games-as-art exists simply because the debate exists. It's what comes next that intrigues me.

Why Do I Want To Think About Games?

Because I think we all do.

Games matter to us, right? And I don't mean they "matter" like everything matters--everything is something that happens and things that happen matter to some degree--but they matter in that they can and do deeply affect our lives. And they do this is drastically different ways. Games can have storytelling moments that affect us emotionally.


Games can engage us in ways that challenge our problem-solving skills.


Games can be used as teaching tools.


Games can have moments of stunning audio-visual beauty.


And games can be just "fun."

But "fun" is not a concept borne of nothing headed to nothing. Fun is a product of cultural, social, aesthetic, and intellectual forces, and fun needs to be understood, if for no other reason than to produce more, better fun.

This blog is about fun. And games. And culture. Because without the third the second wouldn't matter and the first would be impossible.