Gameplay as a Generic Element in Videogames

by Tracy Sheppard


Sequels, series, and franchises are vital to the success of both Hollywood and the video game industry. Of the top ten box office sellers of 2006, five (Pirates of the Caribbean II, X-Men: The Last Stand, Superman Returns, Ice Age: The Meltdown, and Casino Royale) were sequels or members of a series (Box Office Report). Similarly, of the top ten best selling games for the Nintendo 64 platform, nine were installations of a franchise. Even the tenth, Goldeneye 007, inherited the James Bond film franchise and begat a video game series of its own (Magic Box). The Mario franchise alone has sold more than 193 million units, bringing billions of dollars to the Nintendo corporation (Wikipedia 1). All this begs the question: why are series so successful in these industries? In the case of film, the answer is fairly obvious. Characters and situations that audiences responded to and connected with the first time around will probably reach some level of box office success again. But does this equation really apply to the video game industry? While games in a series do repeat characters, basic situations, and settings, the actual experience of playing each game within a series seems to be entirely different, especially over the many different platforms. What does the two-dimensional, side-scrolling Super Mario Bros. for the original NES really have in common with the three-dimensional, immersive world of Super Mario 64? One may think that it is Mario himself that gamers find so attractive, and that perhaps star theory would be appropriate in explaining this phenomenon. But, as will be discussed below, this theory is inappropriate to apply to video game characters, especially as their appearance changes radically over different game platforms. Instead of seeing Mario as a film star, it is more appropriate to view him as a recurring character in a series of games, analogous to James Bond in the film series. Genre theory applies very well to such series, as one can view each series as a genre unto itself; while the James Bond films certainly lie within the auspices of the spy genre, since all its films adhere to a strict set of semantic and syntactic elements that extend beyond that of the overall spy genre, they can be identified as belonging to a “James Bond” sub-genre. This is true of video games as well, but an additional element of the gaming experience must also hold constant to keep a game within its genre: gameplay. Even a game which adheres to all the semantic conventions of its genre must maintain the gameplay that gamers have associated with the franchise in order to capitalize fully on its success. Thus, genre theory applies to the video game industry as long as one adds gameplay to the list of elements that must remain constant between games in the same genre.

The most obvious consistency between all the games in a given series is the main character, be it Mario or Link, from the Legend of Zelda series. This would lead one to the assumption that star theory might be applicable to these games, that it somehow is the image or performance of these personalities that brings their audience back time after time. The question of what makes a mere actor into a star is well answered by Robert Allen, who states “at its most basic, the concept of stardom would seem to involve a duality between actor and character. . . Stars are actors with ‘with biographies.'” (Allen 606) The “actors” in these video game series would seem to qualify for this definition, as their franchises contain dozens of games with performances which the gamer could associate with their image. It is this symbiosis between specific character and the actor which creates a star; in the words of Edgar Morris, “once the film is over, the actor becomes an actor again, the character remains a character, but from their union is born a composite creature who participates in both, envelops them both: the star.” (Morris) This phenomenon of an audience bringing a star's past performances to bear on their understanding of each new film appears to apply to Mario especially, who has appeared in dozens of games in which he departs from his role as a plumber saving the princess. Mario has played a doctor (in Dr. Mario), a tennis player (Mario Tennis), a golfer (Mario Golf), and a typing instructor (Mario Teaches Typing), among many. The charm of such cameos could well be derived from the fact that we, the gamers, know that Mario is being miscast in such roles and that he will be back in his plumber outfit as soon as this momentary dress-up is done.

However, this envisioning of the game character as star does not hold up under closer scrutiny. For one thing, as an electronic image, there is no conceivable separation of the character from the actor, so Mario and Link cannot possibly bridge this gap to become a star in the sense discussed in film theory. One could argue for a new theory of the video game star, one in which character and actor are truly one, as opposed to being merely inextricably linked. This video-game star would be analogous to the reality television star, whose character on the show and reality as a subject/actor are one and the same. However, such a theory becomes suspect in light of another massively popular Nintendo franchise: the Legend of Zelda series. In this game series, our hero is always named Link, he always sports pointy ears, and he always wears the same green tunic and cap. These elements all identify him as the “star” gamers will recognize from earlier games. However, in the plot lines of several installations in the series, it becomes clear that the Link whom you control to victory in that particular game is not the same man as the one the gamer has seen in previous titles. “F or example, the introduction sequences of The Wind Waker and The Minish Cap refer to an ancient, legendary champion who is identical in appearance to Link, and The Wind Waker directly mentions the 'Hero of Time' (a title given to Link in Ocarina of Time) as a historical entity.” (Wikipedia 2) If the newly theorized video game star is posited as a complete marriage of actor and character, this theory falls apart when applied to Legend of Zelda. For here are many different Links, all merely coded for consistency through name and attire. This is the gaming equivalent to an actor being type-cast for similar, but distinct, roles, and certainly does not represent a full integration of actor and character in one digital image.

Even more important is the fact that the appearances of these characters vary wildly from game to game, as the technology of the consoles improves. Star theory is grounded largely in the specific qualities of a certain star's image – take, for instance, Roland Barthes' almost obsessive analysis of “The Face of Garbo.” (Barthes) This kind of analysis is rendered absurd in the context of these video game “stars”, who have a different face every time you see them, as Mario demonstrates below:


Even this diagram excludes the most recent Mario reincarnation on the Nintendo Wii, who represents a complete shift back in style to the two-dimensional 1980's, proving one truly never knows what to expect from Mario's look with each new system. Of course, there may well be comfort in the familiarity of characters such as Mario, and fans may find pleasure in recognizing him in a cameo. This phenomenon, though, is certainly not analogous to the fanatical devotion inspired by the movie star and is unlikely to affect sales in as profound a fashion.

The idea that the success of video games is powered by their main character's stardom is rendered even more dubious by the utter failure of projects attempting to bring these “stars” to different media. A live-action film featuring Mario and his brother, Luigi, came out in 1993, but, according to Wikipedia, is “widely considered to be a flop.” (Wikipedia 3) Three Mario-based cartoons (The Super Mario Bros. Super Show!, The Adventures of Super Mario Bros. 3, and Super Mario World) premiered on the air in three consecutive Septembers, but each was canceled after only three months or less (Wikipedia 4). Nintendo attempted a similar experiment with a cartoon version of The Legend of Zelda, but this lasted a mere thirteen episodes before being aborted (Wikipedia 5). If the characters of Mario and Link were compelling enough to bring gamers to each new contribution to the franchise by their star power alone, this audience draw ought to extend to other media than video games. Clearly, it did not.

If the main characters in video game series are not stars, then what is their role in securing the success of a franchise? The answer to this lies in a film series which provides a useful analogy to these video games: James Bond. James Bond is a recurring character who has been portrayed by many different actors over a span of five decades, in twenty-one feature films. Just as Mario has changed his appearance every few games over seven different systems, so has James Bond appeared radically different every few films over six different actors. Connery, Lazenby, Moore, Dalton, Brosnan, and Craig have very little in common physically – Daniel Craig is even a blonde! However, they are, similarly to the various Links in the Legend of Zelda games, coded as the same character by their name (Bond... James Bond), drink of choice (martinis – shaken, not stirred), profession (agent of Her Majesty's secret service), and, most importantly, clothing (a dapper tuxedo and bow tie). Also like Link, even the character of James Bond does not remain stable throughout these films. Most of the Bond films take place during the depths of the Cold War, but in The World Is Not Enough, Bond “steals a quantity of weapons-grade plutonium from a former Russian ICBM base in Kazakhstan,” (Wikipedia 6) obviously after the breakup of the USSR. Common sense would dictate that the Bond in this post-Cold War world be significantly older than he appears in the other films, but this is not the case. Thus, the only logical explanation is that the character “Bond” does not represent one man, but a recurring character-type, just like Link. This analogy proves priceless to the understanding of video game series success.

In Andrew Tudor's discussion of genre, he notes that genre often “involves the idea that if a film is [for instance] a western, it somehow draws on a tradition - in particular, on a set of conventions. That is, westerns have in common certain themes, certain typical actions, certain characteristic mannerisms; to experience a western is to operate within this previously defined world." (Tudor 4) While the Bond films obviously fall within the auspices of the spy genre, the world of the Bond film is smaller than that of the spy genre overall, and its conventions are tighter. Edward Buscombe points to four formal elements which remain consistent in films of the same genre: setting, clothes, tools, and miscellaneous physical objects (Buscombe 15-16). James Bond films, under this definition, certainly constitute their own genre, as they have these consistencies: a setting of casinos, military bases, beaches, and villas; a tuxedo costume; a silenced pistol and dashing charm as tools; and martinis and unnamed henchmen constituting the objects of this world. Beyond these purely semantic elements, there is a consistent syntax to the Bond films, a must for Altman's view of genre (Altman 27): Bond saves England, gets the girl, and does it with style. Consistent semantic and syntactic elements are what makes a genre in most theorist's minds, and in this way, there is a James Bond genre.

This formulation of genre applies very tidily to the video game series of Mario and Zelda. They, too, contain countless elements which appear in each and every game in the series, and can thus be said to belong to the same sub-genre. The Mario genre consists of the setting of the Mushroom Kingdom, clothing made up of overalls and a red shirt and hat, tools consisting of a jump move and the occasional fireball, and mushroom, coin, and turtle shell objects. In every game, Mario succeeds in defeating Bowzer and saving the Princess. Similarly, the Legend of Zelda games follow their own strict semantic and syntactic rules: the setting is the kingdom of Hyrule, the costume is a green tunic and hat, the tools include a sword, hookshot, and bow and arrow, among many, and the objects category is satisfied by musical instruments and trading items. In every game, Link defeats Ganon, restores the Triforce, and saves the Princess.

Genre films have always been a vital source of income to Hollywood. The film industry can count on fans of the western, for example, to come out in full force for each new western that reaches exhibition. This is because the repetition of these generic elements guarantees the viewer a similar cinematic experience to those they have seen, and enjoyed before. "Bound by a strict set of conventions, tacitly agreed upon by filmmaker and audience, the genre film provides the experience of an ordered world and is an essentially classical structure. . . in the genre film the plot is fixed, the characters defined, the ending satisfyingly predictable." (Sobchack 103) Games, perhaps, capitalize on these repeated elements in the same way – the gamer knows from having played a previous game of the genre know what semantic and syntactic elements to expect from the next and can better anticipate their enjoyment of the new game.

However, anyone who plays video games enough to consider themselves a gamer is likely skeptical at this proposition. This is because the gamer knows that the way one plays a game, as opposed to the actual elements within the game world, is what is most important to their enjoyment of the experience. It is the methods with which one defeats their foes, the activities which the gamer spends their time performing, and their mode of experiencing the game world which has the most impact, as it is these elements which constitute the gamers contribution to the gaming experience. I call the combination of all of these elements “gameplay”. Elements such as setting and costume exist even while the gamer gets up to go to the bathroom, but when the gamer comes back and takes up the controller in her hands, it is the gameplay which she returns to.

At first glance, the gameplay of individual games in a series would seem to vary wildly over the different platforms, especially over the shift from two dimensions to the three dimensional world afforded us by the Nintendo 64. If one enjoyed playing a side-scrolling, two dimensional game such as Super Mario World, does that really mean that they will also enjoy the free motion through three dimensions offered by Super Mario 64 (see below)?



Clearly, these two games differ wildly in the perspective they offer onto the game world. But the world itself, and its rules of gameplay, remain remarkably the same, even between such divergent game systems as the Super Nintendo and the Nintendo 64. In the Mario genre, the gameplay is characterized by a cute, cartoony atmosphere, jumping on one's enemies to kill them, a main activity of navigating difficult terrain (i.e. jumping over holes, timing jumps with moving platforms, etc.), and, most importantly, a closed world. The term “closed world” refers to a linear progression of space, in which each area is reached by passing through the previous one, in the form of game levels. While this structure is most obvious in the earlier, two-dimensional, side-scrolling incarnations of the Mario genre, it remains true in the three-dimensional successors. While Mario can move freely through the Princess' castle, he enters into individual levels by jumping through the pictures on the walls, and must obtain a certain number of stars in previous levels in order to move on to the next.

This gameplay is very different from that exhibited in the Legend of Zelda series. The tone of the game is very epic and heroic. Link defeats his enemies through use of many different tools, which a gamer spends much of their time obtaining, along with solving puzzles, exploring areas, and trading items. And, as opposed to Mario's closed, level-based world, the Legend of Zelda genre has an open format, with a huge world that is open to the gamer at all times. When playing a level-based game, one can only go to an area after beating the previous level, but in an open format game, the whole map is open to exploration at any point. This gameplay element remains consistent from the early games, which featured an overhead view of the kingdom of Hyrule, to the three dimensional world of the Nintendo 64 and the Game Cube.

Video game genres, then, rely on consistency between films not only with the semantic and syntactic elements of the mise-en-scene and plot goals, which are analogous to those elements in the cinema, but also with the medium-specific issue of gameplay. That is to say, in order to cash in on the success of their predecessors in the genre, a new game in a video game series must follow both that genre's conventions of semantics/ syntax and gameplay.

A case study in this theory can be found in the Legend of Zelda series. As discussed above, the genre conventions demand that a Zelda game depict an open, explorable world, in which one collects items and solves puzzles. This is true of the earliest Legend of Zelda game for the NES (The Legend of Zelda, 1987), through to the most recent installment, Twilight Princess (2006, Wii), with one exception: 1987's The Adventure of Link. In this game, though thoroughly a Zelda genre game in terms of all semantic and syntactic elements, the gaming experience is that of a Mario genre game – side-scrolling, with a linear spatial progression. This results in a game which is generically consistent with the rest of the series, except for that most important generic element of the video game: gameplay. As a result, it failed to cash in on the enormous profit potential of the rest of the series; while the game did very well, selling 4.38 million units, it did not reach the astronomical success of others in the series, like the original Legend of Zelda's 6.51 million units or Ocarina of Time's 7.6 million units sold (Magic Box website). This discrepancy demonstrates the importance of gameplay to falling within a video game genre.

Film theory is often tempting to apply to a wealth of different new media, as it is shares with these media their status as mechanical reproductions, and often, as in the case of video games, shares the representation of a moving image. But these are distinct media, and one must not apply one medium's theory to another without careful consideration of its possible shortcomings. This analysis of genre theory applied to video game series provides the perfect example, for on screen, the video game is a very cinematic image which is subject to the same rules of genre elements as a film. However, the medium-specific control of the action in a video game makes it necessary to integrate this aspect of the gaming experience into our film theory. Introducing the issue of gameplay allows us to do just this.