Why do I find this marketing campaign so moving? Is there something wrong with me? It's neither great art nor great literature. Heck, it's not even great film. It's a TV commercial for an Xbox game for crying out loud! Yet it's beautiful in an odd, pop culture sort of way. I guess I can at least partially attribute this fact to the ingenious use of Chopin:
UPDATE: If you double-click on the above video and go directly to the Youtube page for this ad, you are likely to find some Halo 3 campaign spoilers in the comments. Crazy kids!
Since the game is being released next week, the Halo 3 hype machine has kicked into hyperdrive mode. Microsoft's marketing for the game has entered the realm of the surreal ... and undeniably cool. Check out the Believe campaign to see what I mean. For the best experience when you get to the main menu, click on the "Autoplay" button in the bottom left hand corner of the screen. For the second best experience, watch the video that's available under the "Video" link on the main menu. I would link directly, but alas, Flash is too high-falutin' for simple hyperlinking.
Here is an article on how the philosophy of Ayn Rand encouraged many of today's business leaders to be a bit more selfish in their lust for financial success. You will often hear Ayn Rand labeled a "philosopher," but the truth is that academic philosophers today largely ignore her. Why? The short version of the answer to that question is that she is so utterly full of crap. There is no long version.
In another Rand-related news, I've recently been playing through Bioshock, an Xbox 360 game that uses the philosophy of Rand as the foundation of its narrative. I haven't finished it yet, but as of now it seems that one aim of the story is to show how vacuous her ethical and social theories really are. The setting is "Rapture," an underwater city built by an eccentric industrialist who wanted to found a new society based on Rand's philosophy of Objectivism. One of the main characters is even called "Atlas." Unsurprisingly, things go horribly awry in the Randian utopia of Rapture, and the player is forced to resort to large amounts of firepower to correct them.
There's an intriguing op-ed piece at the Wall Street Journal called, "The Brain Workout: In Praise of Video Games." The author, Brian Anderson, wants to counter the rabid anti-gaming attitude that characterizes many pundits and politicians:
The hysteria isn't surprising. New media have always met with suspicion: As The Economist editorialized a while back, a "neophobic" tendency dates from antiquity, with Plato's argument in the "Phaedrus" that the relatively newfangled medium of writing corrupted the memory-building powers of oral culture. Of course sometimes the new is bad. Yet the critics of video games are not only conjuring up a threat where none exists; they're ignoring the positive moral lessons and cognitive benefits that many of today's sophisticated games offer.
Anderson contends that even most violent games are only modern manifestations of the age old heroic ideal:
The truth is, critics are often ignorant of the moral universe of video games--violent games included. Yes, the wildly popular Grand Theft Auto series, in which the gamer plays a criminal on the make in the big city, is pretty amoral. But most violent games put the player in a familiar hero's role, notes Judge Richard Posner in a 2001 Seventh Circuit appeals-court decision overturning an Indianapolis anti-video-game ordinance. "Self-defense, protection of others, dread of the 'undead,' fighting against overwhelming odds--these are the age-old themes of literature, and ones particularly appealing to the young," Mr. Posner observes.
Anyone who reads this blog knows that I am a regular gamer. I am in general agreement with Anderson here on many of his points. The wholesale condemnation of violent games is not exactly fair, or even healthy. For a society to remain strong, it must cultivate in its young men the ideals that promote peace and self-defense. When I pick up an XBOX 360 controller and simulate battle between U. S. special forces and Nicaraguan anarchists in Tom Clancy's Ghost Recon: Advanced Warfighter, I am certainly not exercising some evil innate desire to simulate murder. Instead, I am engaging in a newfangled version of the kind of conflict drama that has characterized literature and mythology for thousands of years. A previous generation watched John Wayne movies; mine plays video games. Thousands of years ago men marveled at the heroism of Hector and Achilles in The Iliad; today they play the role of the hero themselves in Call of Duty 2.
Anderson is right in saying that the medium of video games itself is not inherently immoral. Just like film, television, and literature, it is the content of the medium that earns moral status. I do not find it surprising that there is an overabundance of wicked video games that simulate unjust violence and wickedness. It is the same way with movies, books, and TV. Here I part ways with Anderson, who takes the gaming industry's predictable stance against any sort of regulation against how "Mature" and higher-rated games are marketed and sold to minors. The reprehensible Grand Theft Auto series, for example, is nothing less than a felony simulator where the player can attack innocent civilians, commit carjackings, solicit prostitutes and generally be a criminal thug. And this, we would say, is not quite in the same category as reading Stephen Ambrose. I don't see how refusing selling this type of game to an 11-year old is any different than refusing to let him in to see a gory R-rated movie.
Another fault I find with Anderson's article is that he has much to say about the positive aspects of gaming, but he ignores the negative aspects, such as the fact that gaming is (for many) an antisocial activity thas can actually become an addiction. There may be a counterargument that could point out that reading novels can also be a form of antisocial activity, but that line of reasoning would not work for the second point: one does not find too many James Joyce addicts.
Just like any other storytelling medium, the responsible citizen (and Christian) has a duty to evaluate the moral status of the media's message. Thus I think there are certain video games that can be appropriate as a leisure activity, when chosen with proper judgment and enjoyed in clear-headed moderation.
I once heard a historian of the Roman Empire say that the best way to get a feel for ancient Rome was through those Hollywood movies that accurately portray the period. While it's no substitute for reading good books, there are things you can learn from good historical movies that you just can't get from the written word. My favorite period of history is World War II, so on this Memorial Day I thought I'd share a few thoughts on some recent WWII movies (and a game) that I think do justice to the heroes of the greatest generation:
Saving Private Ryan: Denny Burk points out the absurdity of Shakespeare in Love winning over SPR for Best Picture in 1998, and I'd definitely agree. More than anything else, this movie was responsible for the renewed appreciation of what the fighting men of WWII accomplished for the world. I consider it one of Spielberg's greatest films, especially considering the average stuff he's been making lately. SPR is essentially one long rumination on the nature of self-sacrifice, but everyone has already seen this movie anyway, so I don't have to go on about its merits.
The Thin Red Line: (Warning: there's a major plot spoiler ahead) Also nominated for Best Picture in 1998, this movie was woefully underappreciated by the general public. Part of the problem is that it was released shortly after SPR, and much of the advertising billed it as a sort of "Saving Private Ryan of the Pacific theater," which it most definitely was not. I once recommended it to a friend who liked war movies. His only comment was, "That movie ain't about war." He was right. Movies by Terrence Malick are an acquired taste, but I think he's one of the best directors working today. TTRL is a philosophical tale about the conflicted nature of the human condition, and the battle of Guadalcanal is a mere backdrop to that theme. The original novel by James Jones is a harrowing account of the battle written by a Guadalcanal vet, but Malick barely utilizes the novel's themes at all. He has the same characters and a few similar lines of dialogue, but there the similarity ends. Malick focuses on Private Witt (played by Jim Caviezel of "Passion of the Christ" fame), a character who is more interested in philosophizing about eternity than he is with actually being a soldier. In my humble opinion, Witt's unnecessary self-sacrifice at the end of the film is one of the most shocking and moving scenes in the history of war movies. I often watch it over and over again trying to determine why he did it. I think it has something to do with being absorbed back into the great eternal human soul, or some such example of bad theology, but I'm not sure.
Band of Brothers: It's a shame that it took me over two years to watch all ten episodes of this mini-series, as it turned out to be one of the best things made for TV in a long time. I got this DVD set for Christmas in 2002 after having read Stephen Ambrose's book of the same name. The book and the mini-series chronicle the story of one of the most decorated and battle-hardened infantry companies of World War 2 as they participate in the European campaign. The book is brilliant as a work of historical scholarship that tells an important story, and the mini-series is brilliant because it's a fantastic work of film that tells that same important story. Highlights are the episode directed by Tom Hanks and one of the final episodes that recounts Easy Company's first discovery of a concentration camp. There has been a recent resurgence in the public's awareness of the achievements of the fighting men of the greatest generation, and for these men it couldn't have come any sooner. The mini-series doesn't try to over-lionize them, but instead paints them as normal people caught up in extraordinary events, exhibiting all their various virtues and vices. Neither does it paint them with the brush of later days, but shows them as they were: flawed heroes that accomplished something truly great for humanity.
Call of Duty 2 (Xbox 360): Changing gears a bit, the renewed cultural interest in WWII over the last few years has also affected the video game industry. I played through Call of Duty 2 for the Xbox 360 last week, and just like its predecessor, it's one of the most intense recreations of WWII ground combat that you can have without actually having been there. Far from being a simple shoot-'em-up, the COD series provides a decent history lesson as well. While there is one sense in which the combat is certainly unrealistic, the game also takes significant pains to accurately portray WWII weapons, uniforms, vehicles, and even a few basic infantry combat tactics. My ability to distinguish between a M1 Garand, Springfield rifle, Browning Automatic Rifle, Thompson machinegun, Kar98k, and a Gewehr 43 comes directly from the COD series. As an infantry grunt, you get to perform a variety of tasks other than just gunning down Germans, such as calling in artillery strikes, driving a British Crusader tank, and sniping pesky German mortar teams. The missions are also intercut with brief historical documentary clips from the Military Channel. A highlight for me was hearing a singificant portion of Ronald Reagan's famous D-Day speech after I completed the Pointe du Hoc mission set during the Allied invasion of France on June 6, 1944. I don't know if WWII vets approve of games that recreate those terrible battles, but I think there's something to be said for approaching history through this medium. COD2 is not only an interesting (albeit cursory) history lesson, it's also one of the best games for Xbox 360.
Here is a difficult question: should we consider popular movies art? Here is another one, perhaps more difficult, perhaps less: should we consider video games to be art? What about movie trailers? And here is perhaps the most interesting question of all: could we, should we, would we ever consider video game trailers to be art? I think it is quite possible that I am the first human being in the history of the world to ever seriously ask that question. I admit that it is questionable whether one should be proud of such a thing or not, but I digress.
For the moment I am going to refrain from tackling these sticky questions. I will only say that if video game trailers are an art, then this is the pinnacle of the art form.
After four months of twiddling my thumbs, I finally got an Xbox 360 last night, and I have to admit that Microsoft's new console is an impressive piece of hardware. Setup was a snap, and I had it hooked into my HDTV and Surround Sound system in no time. Porting over my original Xbox Live account was simple, and I was up and downloading new content to the console within a few minutes of hooking it up.
Gaming is a recreational activity I enjoy - I play games instead of sitting in front of the TV endlessly flipping channels - but one reason I wanted the 360 was for some of its innovative media features. When hooked up to a wireless network, the system can stream music from your PC and, if you have Windows Media Center Edition, it can stream your photos and digital videos as well. My laptop has Windows MCE, and I can always hook it up directly to my HDTV if I want, but that's a real pain in the neck. Now I can stream directly to the TV if my laptop is turned on. I can look at our (vast) library of digital photos and home movies at the push of a button. With the Xbox Live Marketplace you can also download High Definition movie trailers and music videos if you fancy, although right now the selection is a bit limited. The only way I could watch true HD movie trailers previously was to download them from Apple, hook up my laptop to my TV, and then watch a windowed version. The only way to truly get fullscreen HD trailers from Apple is to download Quicktime Pro, which I refuse to do.
The games are also impressive. I bought Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, and while the graphics are definitely next-gen - especially when viewed on an HD display - I wasn't quite as impressed as I thought I would be, especially in the outdoor areas. But that's a minor quibble when compared to the overall gameplay experience the 360 provides. I foresee many an event that in these parts we call a "Game-On Night," in which I get together with friends or guys from my Sunday School class to play racing games or endlessly shoot at one another like warriors in a virtual Valhalla. With more quality games on the way and potential for almost limitless new features and content, I think the Xbox 360 will do very well in the next-gen video game wars. It will probably fail to unseat Sony from atop the console throne, but it might come close.
There's an interesting debate over at Slate between one of their writers, Dana Stevens, and Steven Johnson, author of a book claiming that playing video games and watching hour-long TV dramas can actually make you smarter, at least in certain "cog-sci" areas like "attention, patience retention, and the parsing of narrative threads." Here's part of his claim:
I don't believe that these cog-sci definitions of intelligence are the only kinds of intelligence worth measuring. But certainly they're crucial ones. And they're not just limited to raw problem-solving skills. Take our ability to model social networks as an example: One of the things we do incredibly well as a species is create elaborate maps of social connection in our heads—we know that Bill is feuding with Bob, and that Amy is flirting a little with John, and just coming out of a relationship with Phil, and so on. That's a key part of our real-world intelligence, and some people are better at it than others. So, one of the things I show in the book is that the social networks in play in the average television show have grown much more complicated over the past 30 years—in a sense, training our brains to follow ever-larger groups of interaction.
I agree with Stevens, who views that sort of thinking as being a bit too hopeful and wishy-washy. Even though I haven't read the book, however, what I can garner from Johnson's argument about gaming (as opposed to TV watching) seems pretty persuasive. The stereotype of playing video games as a mindless, twitch-reflex, "instant gratification" activity just isn't correct. Complex (and sometimes very complex) problem-solving is often involved, especially in games of higher levels of difficulty. Some strategy games, for example, require the player to finely balance financial, religious, and military resources in order to keep their empire up and running. If you've ever played Rome: Total War, you know how difficult this can be, especially with barbarian armies massing at your borders, not to mention the battlefield decisions you have to make in order to beat said barbarians on the field. I don't think playing a video game is a superior intellectual activity to, say, reading Aquinas or parsing Greek verbs, but as a way to spend recreational time I think it beats sitting on your posterior and watching Desperate Housewives.
On a related note, I posted on the subject of Christians and gaming last month. Read it here.
An article over at Computer Gaming World discusses the rather strange phenomenon of Christian gaming clans. A "clan" is an online community dedicated to playing multiplayer games together over the internet. They join together in teams and challenge other clans to matches, enter tournaments, talk smack, etc. Christian clans do all this, with an addendum: they use the social apparatus of online gaming as a tool for evangelism. Here's a quote:
+CGO+ is one of several Internet groups formed in recent years to wed love for God with passion for gaming. While +CGO+ itself doesn't endorse any particular game, it maintains a list of affiliates that includes servers hosting war-themed games like Battlefield 2 and America's Army. "We're a group of Christians with a common love for videogames," explains Kenerly. "We've grown very close in our relationships. We commend each other, we rebuke each other when necessary, and we build each other up." But it goes beyond simple camaraderie for +CGO+, Kenerly continues. "We're also evangelists. Our platform is in-game and on our forums, and we tell people how it is. We're not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, and we openly promote Jesus and our belief in Him." In other words, +CGO+ actively proselytizes, taking advantage of the Internet's fluid and capacious nature to transmit the group's Christian message. Adds Kenerly, "What could be better than spreading the Good News and playing videogames?"
The article also addresses the question of how these Christian gamers tackle the moral issue of playing games in which not only violence is portrayed, but the player actually does the killing:
"We view games as just games," says Kendrick Kenerly, founder of +CGO+, Christian Gamers Online. "They all boil down to a few things: They have a goal, they have a reward for the goal, and they have a set of rules that need to be followed to reach the goal. The violence in most games isn't something we get worked up about. It's merely 'presentation,' simply a way to convey an experience to players so they can follow the rules to reach the goal." Abstract games like checkers, chess, and Monopoly operate in the same fashion, Kenerly argues-they merely employ different presentation methods.
Another quote in the article brings up what I think is an even more important issue, the context of the violence presented. For me, this is the primary concern. As both an avid gamer and a Christian, I have thought very deeply about these issues in recent years. I always loved video games growing up, but when I was converted at age 19 I really struggled with whether that hobby ought to have a legitimate place in my life. By playing a war-game, for example, was I loving the world? Was it counter to Christ's admonitions of peace?
I struggled for a long time with these issues, and eventually I realized I was creating a law where God had created none. At one point I swore off any game that had violence in it, playing only racing or sports games. But as is often the case when a Christian sets up a legalistic framework over some area of his or her life, I was even more unhappy and confused than before. Even when I sat down to play a racing game I felt a tremendous amount of guilt.
After much thought and study, I eventually came to the conclusion that gaming - even playing games with elements of conflict, war, and violence - was a legitimate recreational pastime for a believer based on a few observations:
(1) Games are a form of drama, like the biblical stories themselves. By saying this I don't mean that a Christian can consume just any old dramatic story because the Bible is also a dramatic story. Rather, I make this observation as a focal point for my thoughts on the nature of playing violent video games. I admit that if one reads in the Bible a total pacifistic position, then playing any sort of war-game would be akin to engaging in simulated sin. But I most definitely don't find that in the Bible, and I think only an irresponsible and selective reading of biblical texts supports that conclusion. The Bible is full of violent, often gruesome stories. Even Jesus himself told fictional stories that included violence (e. g. the parable of the good Samaritan). The most important thing for me is the context of that violence, a thought echoed by other Christians in the above-mentioned article. If I believe it would actually be sinful not to engage in violence sometimes - say, for example, in opposing the Nazi Regime via guns and bombs - then why would I believe it is sinful to engage in simulations of that violence, especially when it provides other benefits (recreation, community with friends, appreciation of history, appreciation of those who risk their lives daily on the battlefields of the real world, etc.)? It seems to me that the more important issue is the nature of the violence being presented. By committing virtual violence a player is also attempting to achieve a virtual goal. Is that virtual goal a noble one or a wicked one? And if noble, is the violence presented gratuitous or reserved? By answering these questions I think a Christian gamer can make a responsible choice as to which games are legitimate to play and which ones are not.
(2) Playing video games provides more control over one's free time than sitting in front of the television. There was one point in my life where I, like most Americans, immediately sat down before the one-eyed god when I got a bit of time to myself. I veged out in front of the TV, switching channels mindlessly like some idiot channel-flipping monkey, endlessly searching for some bit of excitement that would stand out among the montage of vapid images that eternally flash by. As an American male, I have the strange ability to flip between channels for hours on end, letting whatever sensual image or sensationalist news story into my brain for no apparent reason except to "relax." That is no longer the case. I still watch television on occasion, but I try to make a pointed decision on exactly what I am going to watch (Lost, for example). Games provide a better way to spend the little free time that I get. They are goal-oriented, and when I play online it's actually a social activity. What's more, I always have the ability to research what games I plan on playing, so that I know what I'm getting going in. That's not true when I'm just flipping channels aimlessly like a robotic monkey.
(3) Violent games - when done ethically - provide a practical benefit to society, especially for males. I might be going out on a limb with this one, but it's something that's been banging around in my head for a while. It came from a quote I read in John Eldredge's Wild at Heart. Eldredge essentially wrote that parents ought not to squelch all of their little boy's tendencies toward playing at violence and adventure, as one day they may need that boy to protect them. This kind of thinking is needed in a society that perpetually attempts to feminize males. One way this is done is by telling boys that all violence is wicked and barbaric. This sort of unqualified pacifistic ideal is one of the grand goals of utopian systems, thus it should come as no surprise that, along with the "family-friendly" media types on the right, there are many on the left who vehemently oppose violent games and claim they are a detriment to society. This sort of thinking is actually very dangerous, as it robs males of their natural desire to protect and defend. It's certainly true that males have an inclination toward violence, but the answer is not to purge that inclination but to develop in it a moral sense. Wicked men will always use violence for evil, but instead of eliminating that tendency to violence we should cultivate a culture where good men are raised up to oppose it. Video games - when done ethically - provide at least a small impetus toward the creation of that kind of culture. A man who has loaded and fired thousands of rounds from an AK-47 in the video game world will at least have a tiny advantage over the emasculated modern male who is as afraid of guns as he is of feminists, to say nothing of gun-toting feminists.
Now this certainly isn't the final word. It's only my personal philosophy of video gaming, informed and guided by my reading of the Word of God. There are many good Christians who would strongly disagree on this subject, but for me the above points make good sense.