On paper, Disney
Infinity nails a lot of the ideas we discussed last week. It is a literal
manifestation of the malleability in children’s play, with canons and universes
mattering less than the toys that are available. A kid will mash up Batman and Spider-Man with
abandon — the bounds of the DC and Marvel universes mean nothing to her, and The Lego Movie is proof of as much. Infinity allows a kid to throw any idea
into a sandbox toybox, which ought to create an infinite sense of play.
But there’s something problematic about the way Infinity operates in practice, both as a
video game and as an expansion of playroom exploration. A group of 20 year-olds
struggled pretty mightily to navigate the menu system and get into the game. I
was able to manage the game’s world solely because I have experience with the
cues of video game level design, particularly that of first-person shooters,
the HUDs of which Infinity cribs
liberally. That’s a problem, though – my knowledge of adult games should not
make me more intuitive towards a child’s game. We were directed to an extensive
tutorial repeatedly (by Benjamin, not the game), which begs me to ask whether
the game is articulate enough in explaining itself.
A game ought to make clear its rules and structures as
succinctly and unobtrusively as possible. I think of Super Mario Bros. and the manner in which it teaches players. The
YouTube series Extra Credits made an
excellent video explaining Mario’s first
level and the way it carefully designs an experience that teaches a player all
she needs to know through the environment. Infinity’s
dialogue-and-text-box heavy aesthetic nerf the player’s ability to figure
these concepts out on her own, and in effect pull exploration, or even much
feeling, out of her experience.
Moreover, as a kid begins to explore the toybox mode in Infinity, she will shortly discover that
she can reach the boundaries of what the game can offer. She will have
exhausted all the tools and will be left with the box she has created. In one
way, this is not dissimilar to the way Legos or other constructible toys
operate — one can only build with the tools available, and must compensate for
those gaps with imagination. However, I think there’s a small but important
difference between the physical and digital spaces in this regard. Where Legos
are tactile, present creations that force a kid to inject shape and meaning, a
video game operates like a movie: it is on the screen, and it has been created
in front of the player, o naturally it must be at least a facsimile of real.
It is much more difficult to use imagination when the
objects are literally created for a player. Minecraft
gets away with this because it functions almost exclusively as a tool for
construction and building — and the tools allow for a child to create things
that resemble her reality. Infinity is
neither flexible enough to operate in that manner, nor rigid enough to tell a
traditional narrative-based story. Infinity
limits the player and forces her to subscribe to its mode of play, with its
visible boundaries and rules. By its sheer nature as a video game, the
constructs already exist and are much more difficult to break down in an
imaginative way, like we saw with board games. As it stands, Infinity functions as an uncomfortable
middle ground where children are able to input their imaginations to a very
small extent, but are unable to engage and play
in a meaningful, productive way.
No comments:
Post a Comment