Culture Clash

(July 2006)

Stars upon Thars

"You call this a script? Give me a couple of $5,000-a-week writers and I'll write it myself."
--Hollywood producer Joe Pasternak

As games increasingly come into their own as a recognized art form, an interesting dichotomy arises in how the industry perceives its own creative potential. On one hand, everyone who makes games would absolutely agree that our artists, animators and sound people are among the most talented in the world, creating often startlingly beautiful work in extremely tight scheduling and budgetary circumstances. On the other hand, another creative discipline – writing – is often marginalized by an industry that doesn't value it in the first place, yet inexplicably prefers to bring in “professionals” to do work that many already within the business are perfectly capable of doing and, indeed, tend to do better. Why do we continue to believe that outside writers, often with little or no experience writing for games, are a wise staffing alternative for an industry that's loaded with writing talent?

This actually illuminates two problems with the world of video game narrative. The first – that a disproportionate amount of game writing, regardless of who produces it, is frankly depthless and immature because game writing is not considered super-important – kind of goes without saying and is a topic for another day. What's of interest today is why the words “Hollywood” and “novelist” so impress people in the games business. Though game scripts penned by “Hollywood” people are by no means universally bad, the fact that there are more than a few stinkers in the mix certainly indicates that a Hollywood screenwriter's presence isn't enough to ensure a stellar game. Moreover, there are many – many, many, many, many – examples of awesome game writing by people with little or nothing to do with Hollywood. Yet even today, talented writers with games industry experience find themselves underutilized in favor of outsiders who may or may not have any knowledge of games and certainly have less idea of how one is created.

Does the industry turn to outside writers simply because those outsiders are perceived as… what? Better? More professional? More experienced? More expensive? It goes without saying that writing a game script is technically very different than a screenplay or novel. The disciplines are practically incomparable. Screenwriters know nothing of branching, don't appreciate the precedence of interactivity in games and often fail to realize that what's relatively easy to shoot on film may be nigh-impossible to capture in a game.

What surprises me is the fact that so little seems to have been learned from history. While Advent Rising , penned by Orson Scott Card, failed less due to its script and more due to the fact that that it wasn't a very good game (same goes for titles like Stolen ), one must wonder if the two aren't connected. First, the money spent on Card might have gone into another level designer or texture artist, someone who could have made the game better. But here's where the industry's fascination with “professional” talent can really threaten quality: after all, why bother to make a great game? Orson Scott Card wrote it! He has three names! It'll sell!

And that mindset isn't uncommon. Print ads for the upcoming Darkstar One trumpet that the game is “written by a leading science fiction author” (tip to marketers: if you're unwilling to name the author, who turns out to be the in-no-way-leading Claudia Kern, you might want to reconsider using it as a selling point). While for all we know Darkstar One will turn out to be awesome, though based on the demo I doubt it, the “leading science fiction author” crutch sends up warning signals. And it hints at an undeserved inferiority complex within the industry. Our people are just as good as their people. Fact is, of all of the games whose writing really resonated with me, only Gun was written by someone who'd done time in Hollywood.

Even sadder is when industry talent is shoved aside in favor of Hollywood writers who then damage a wonderful concept. Sands of Time continues to astound with its perennial grace and charm. The long-term story arc of the trilogy: the Prince's debt to time, the need to learn from and live with one's mistakes, the recognition of his hubris; the thoughtful, mature concepts outlined in the overall plot and first game, written by games people, were potent and effective. The next two (though fun to play) were reduced to clichéd Spike TV-level “you will soon feel the edge of my blade!” by people who were supposedly professional. That's what's really unfair about the situation.

We've got great writers in this business. People easily as talented as our artists, our animators, our sound people – the creatives that everyone recognizes as the best in the world. We also have a growing community of game writers to share support and feedback. Perhaps most importantly, these writers understand games. They speak the same language as other developers, at least to such a degree that they can collaborate with development teams and be part of the solution rather than the problem. It will be writers within the industry, not without, who continue to produce the best, most impactful work over the next several years.

In some areas, outside talent is preferable. Professional voice actors, for example, are almost always going to be better than Francisco the copy machine repair guy or Hank the tools programmer. It's funny that an industry so famous for its xenophobia would be willing to look outside for something as integral to quality product as good writing talent. The fact is screenwriting experience doesn't even guarantee a good movie, let alone a good game. And in fairness, game writing experience doesn't ensure a good game either, but it helps. Why look starry-eyed at red-carpet writers from another medium – writers whose skills, while undeniable, are not necessarily transferable to what we do? We have stars of our own.