Wednesday, 30 May 2012

Headshot! [Dissecting Galloway's Analysis of the First-Person Shooter]


Galloway's second chapter, Origins of the First Person Shooter, is the weakest essay in his book. The chapter does contain interesting and thought provoking ideas, but the overall essay is plagued by problems. Despite the title, Galloway veers off into discussions about gaming in general and its cinematic antecedents at several points. These digressions would not be an issue if He tied them more concretely to the evolution of the first-person shooter from other models of video gaming, but instead, he seems more concerned about illustrating the dichotomies between gaming and cinema. Furthermore, in making his arguments, Galloway hinges some of his points on fallacies, which in turn weakens the argument as a whole.


To be fair, there are still relevant theories to be found in the chapter. Galloway points out that the use of the first-person subjective camera acts as both a unifying and divisive aspect of video games and it's older media cousin, film. His argument is that while both mediums use the first-person subjective, each uses it to different effect.


Film, on the one hand, uses the technique not to create a sense of immersion and empathy with a character, but to establish alienation, detachment, fear and violence. Galloway delineates between the first-person subjective shot and the point-of-view shot to firmly establish his argument. It is at this point that the holes in his theories start to arise. He suggests that the first-person subjective enters the diagesis of the film, piercing the screen by showing 'exactly' what the character sees, as opposed to the point-of-view shot, which simply aims the camera in the general direction of a given character's line of sight. The main contention here is one of the experience of cinema viewing itself: the screen. Galloway argues that first-person subjective pierces the screen, but the screen remains present and therefore restricts what the viewer can see, not in fact offering 'exactly' what the character sees, but boxing that vision and containing, or limiting, it.


Secondly, Galloway argues the difference between first-person subjective and POV shots by way of the phenomena associated with a subjective view, such as blinking, tears, jostling head movements, and the like. Judged by these criteria, most first-person perspective shots in films and virtually all first-person shooters fail, thus rendering their classification of 'first-person subjective' problematic. While many of these shots in film, and most first-person games contain aspects such as 'pitch and lurch' (the bobbing during movement in games; the shakiness present in 'anti-steadicam' shots) and the now ubiquitous blinding and lens flare effects (especially in video games, as of the mid 1990s), other facets, such as tears and blinking are almost completely absent from the presentation. It is due to these exacting criteria, however, that Galloway makes claims such as the idea that first-person subjective is used in films primarily to illustrate abnormal mental affect, or that Lady in the Lake fails because it is not fully subjective (the character/camera acts and sees itself acting, resulting in an unintentional disembodied dream sensation).


The aspect of this argument which makes the most sense is that first-person subjective in film engenders a feeling of helplessness, as illustrated by the film Being John Malkovich. When the characters are shown first inhabiting Malkovich, it is always from the first-person subjective, and it is always portrayed as overwhelming and out of control. This is an excellent example, as this description is the exact effect this technique in films: the viewer is seeing out of a character's eyes, but is unable to turn the character's head, or even aim the eyes at different focus points within the frame. Further, Galloway parlays this notion into usage of this technique in horror films, where the first-person is paired with the predatory gaze of the film's antagonist. The viewer is aware of what the antagonist is seeing, and can anticipate the actions to come, but is completely helpless to prevent them.


From this use of the technique in horror films, it is a logical progression, Galloway argues, to take that sense of alienation and extend it into the realm of machinic vision. He posits that when the first-person subjective is used for the 'computer vision' of the Terminator or Robocop, the technique is more naturalised. He argues for this natural affinity because of a conflation between how the character sees and how the image is shown (ie. the mechanical apparatus of the camera/projector). Due to aspects of this presentation (such as Robocop's HUD, which displays not only environmental information but also mission objectives), it is a simple step to move from machinic vision in film to first-person vision in video games.


The main difference, in Galloway's opinion, is that the use of first-person subjective in video games becomes more about moving in space, as opposed to its use in films, where it is more about movement in time. His supports for this thought are another area where he commits fallacies in order to further his argument. For instance, he argues that, due to this difference, 'gamic vision requires fully rendered, actionable spaces' as opposed to movie sets, which are at best incomplete environments. The problem with this line of reasoning is that it is simply incorrect. First-person shooters, or first-person games of any genre, contain a litany of doors and windows which are present but do not open into anywhere, as the developers have deemed that room/area to be unnecessary to the game. While there are no walls missing to accommodate the apparatus of the camera and sound equipment, the space created is hardly fully rendered.


This problem leads Galloway to commit the second fallacy in his line of reasoning. He asserts that player agency cannot be controlled by the programmers, and therefore the entire environment must be made available to the player. Again, this notion is simply incorrect. The reasoning behind not rendering the rooms behind certain doors is, in fact, to guide the player in a specific direction, and the main complaint about first-person shooters is that they guide the player, rather than let the player explore (the Call of Duty series receives a large amount of criticism for this very issue). Furthermore, the programmers limit the experience through methods such as dictating what movements and controls are possible within the environment, or preventing the player from returning to previous areas in the game (rendering the door the player went through to reach that point yet another door without a room).


With these flawed premises, Galloway is led to a flawed conclusion. He puts forth the idea that, because of this (supposed) continuous space, montage has largely been discarded by video games, both first-person and third-person. The problem with this premise is one of medium interpretation. Montage is understood easily enough in film at this point, but how does it become a uniquely gamic technique? The simple idea of game levels, which are broken up by time and space, may be considered a form of actionable montage. Further, the mini-game collection allows for the sort of montage by attraction which Eisenstein felt was fundamental, and Bazin disparaged. While I agree with Galloway's thought that first-person gaming is possible because it does away with fragmented ways of seeing, that notion can only be taken so far before you encounter the division between levels.

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