
Many of my colleagues have disputed me -- and fairly -- when I suggest that one of my aims in discussing games is to try to evaluate them according to what the developer's intention might have been and how well the game achieved it.
"You can't review a game based on intention," one of my cohorts told me.
Nonetheless, intention's something I always try to keep in mind when I critique games. Blame my theatrical background -- we were taught to read plays in part, at least, in the context of what the playwright is trying to say. The intention of a narrative often plays a role in how we think about the success or failure of novels, too. And, y'know, it might not be something that I can plug into the Metacritic scores I've assigned, but I like doing it anyway.
I have read interviews with thatgamecompany regarding Flower wherein co-creator Kellee Santiago says that the intention of Flower is to create "an emotion." I heard this objective most recently in a highly laudatory Slate article about the game; writer Chris Suellentrop says Flower made him feel "relaxed, peaceful and happy."
It made me feel that way, too, and judging by SVGL commenters' responses yesterday, most of you agree. In that respect, Flower can be said to succeed at its intention, yes?
Except that the deliberate intention of creating emotion is manipulative.
Again, I think of theatre. Picture an amateur actor, ready for her debut; backstage, she waits, considering her audience. "I'm going to make them cry," she whispers to herself. She sets a goal to transport the audience, to make them feel. But, continuing with the example, acting is about objectives. That's the most basic tenet of the craft.
An actor's meant to adopt and empathize with the objectives of the character he or she's portraying and believe in them fully. If the actor can't become immersed in that; if, while waiting in the wings, the actor is thinking about making the audience laugh or cry rather than considering what his character wants in a given scene; if they want to shortcut the work itself to get right to the reaction to the work, the performance is hollow.
The result is a preciously self-conscious play for attention on the part of the actor, not a genuinely meaningful immersive experience. I once wrote a column on how acting and game design don't seem to me to be very far apart -- and I still believe this is true.
So you see what I'm getting at, right?
Flower's a beautiful game. It transfers that sense of peace and beauty to the player. But it's about as sophisticated and sincere as a high school musical.
The game's transition from pure, humble nature through the frustrating barriers of technology's presence to its climax's glorious rendition of the balance between nature and man is lovely because of the way the design has meticulously engineered the emotional response; as one commenter said in yesterday's discussion, those frustrating gameplay sections that many dislike are necessary to make the final sections feel liberating.
But these are design principles, not transcendental philosophical threads, not transporting narrative elegance. The narrative of Flower is so insipid as to be unbelievable -- inside the dream of a flower -- the dream of a flower -- the power of nature beats up the bad oil well things, the sparkling magic of flowers brings man into balance with his environment, the end?
...You serious? This is your transformative experience? How come it didn't transform you when you saw it in an animated after-school special?
I wrote yesterday about how Flower's very game-like, very design-deliberate, and this is fine, even valuable. But a manipulative intention and a shallow "meaning," coupled with manufactured design? How is it that we can still claim Flower is about "art" or about "emotion", about naturalism or fluidity -- when it so obviously adheres to what has been done before, and in many cases, done to death?
This schism, to me, disrupts the "emotion," not enhances it.
Why is the audience being deceived by such an easy play for its emotions using such a trite, derivative theme? Because it wants to be, and because it believes it needs to be. We'll finish the discussion tomorrow.
Yes, I realize I said "tomorrow" yesterday and am now squeaking in half an hour before midnight my time. I'll try to be more timely tomorrow (hee hee)! In the meantime, I'd like to cap this off with a disclaimer: To make it precisely plain -- I like Flower. I am impressed with Flower. In fact, I'd say I love many things about Flower. Just remember, before you crucify me, that I am a fan.
You should raise a red flag, don't you think, if someone who likes a game is a "hater" for criticizing elements of it?