All Gaming Violence is Not Created Equal
In the blockbuster film “A Minecraft Movie” main character Steve (above) adds insights to the fantastical action that is an extension of decades-old cartoonish violence:
“It is harder to create than to destroy,” he observes, “That’s why cowards tend to choose the deuce.”
This type of reflection, along with the movie’s including emotional pain as a consequence of violent acts, help maintain the moral compass and empathy that is absent in many mindless, first-person shooter (FPS) video game titles.
Note: This article shares details from Minecraft: a Movie and the book Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow.
If you’re a video game lover, parent of one, or person who simply strives to be culturally literate, there’s plenty of entertainment to be found in Minecraft: a Movie— whose gross sales reached nearly a billion dollars less than 3 months after being released in April.
Unlike the open-ended ‘construct & survive’ gaming odyssey called MInecraft that was first downloaded to consoles in 2011, Minecraft: A Movie is complete with a fixed plot of a ‘hero’s journey’ sure to make just about any viewer laugh as the comedic adventure twists, turns and unfolds.
The plot line highlights two distinct realms that the film’s characters enter into via separate portals: the first an “Overworld”— a realm of wonder where imagination and creativity are boundless; and the second a space called “Nether”— a dark, authoritarian dimension ruled by a piglin named Malgosha that is rife with greed and conflict.
Just as in life itself, these two dimensions pair the beautiful & constructive with the ugly & destructive. Thankfully for parents of young fans, Steve— the movie’s central character— shows a preference for the former in exchanges like this one between him and the central antogonist:
“To hope, to dream, to create is to suffer,” Malgosha summarizes during a final clash between the two realms near the film’s end.
“It is harder to create than to destroy,” moralizes Steve in response. “That’s why cowards tend to choose the deuce.”
”If only” more games supplied contextual value to the “third-person, adventure-fantasy style” blows dealt between outlandish characters in an amusing fashion. Given the intense, habitual virtual killing practice central to many first-person shooter titles, the kinder perspective-setting arrives as a welcome relief.
Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow
Taking a break from the endless, hyper-realistic virtual slaughters so many gamers regularly participate in is not something only the worn out, gaming-weary parents out there likely support.
Judging from the level of disdain both a main and secondary character show for serial killing in her best-selling novel Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow (2022), Gabrielle Zevin apparently doesn’t see first-person shooter violence as befitting the video gaming art form either.
The story line of Zevin’s ‘tome on tomorrow’ centers on a long running platonic relationship between Sam Masur and Sadie Green, who— after meeting as children— reconnect in their college years to create imaginative and groundbreaking games.
(Note: For the rookie/non-gamer, this book is very useful for picking up language used in the creative gaming space like:
chiaroscuro: an artistic technique using strong contrasts between light and shadow to create drama, depth, and focus.
four-quadrant video game: one that appeals to both male and female players, as well as those over and under age 25.
graphics engine: a component whose primary function is to process and display the 2D or 3D graphics that players see on screen.
ludic dissonance: when the playful and narrative elements of a story contradict each other.
NPC: not playable character by a gamer. These give the programmed world verisimilitude, or the appearance of being true or real.)
Zevin wastes little time in having the main character (and likely author avatar) Sadie unequivocally share her position on games of destruction only.
Early in the 416-page novel (p. 69), she reflects on the gaming industry’s obsession with first-person shooters, and particularly the repetitive killing for entertainment, to be “digusting, immoral and a disease of an immature society.”
Far from being a one-off remark, this statement establishes the position that this low standard in the gaming industry could be exceeded by creating games that are humanistic and intimate. In place of mere shooter games, Sadie creates those that emphasize storytelling, creativity, and emotional depth.
Perhaps in recognition that a reader of her book would expect a female character to espouse kinder, gentler games, Zevin brings a secondary character to the anti shooting-for-its-own-sake discussion.
Only this time, brilliantly, it’s male character Dov Mizrah, who is a collegiate gaming instructor to Sadie in the book. While the two characters don’t agree on everything, they share an antipathy for “shooters.”
Above all, Dov— an Israeli Defense Forces war veteran- disliked the idea of a majority of games being based on giving chase or being chased. Such disregard meant he hated a significant portion of the games that were successful.
This excerpt (p. 28) supports the assertion:
“Guys, Dov said, “you know I've served in the army, right?”
“Guns are so (bleeping) romantic to you Americans, because you don't know what it is to be at war and to be constantly under siege. It's truly pathetic.”
To Dov Mizrah, although both violence and shooting involve killing, the first requires a kind of skin-in-the-game honesty that the second does not— thus delegitimizing it.
Conclusion
In a stunning, often cutting-edge fashion, the videogaming industry produces an array of products that span the full range of human experience, and beyond. As creative efforts like Minecraft: A Movie and the book Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow illustrate, the humongous slice of the cybersphere dedicated to gaming can often entertain, inspire, reach and even teach its viewers and interactive participants.
Unfortunately, not every gaming-related product is as artistic as the minecraft movie or as literary as Gabrielle Zevin’s book.
All too often, games appeal to and reinforce the player’s worst instincts.
Sadly, in too many instances, participants act on those instincts to the detriment of themselves, their loved ones, and/or society-at-large.
By creating broader awareness about the unequalness of in-gaming violence, a higher percentage of positive gaming-session outcomes can be achieved.