Lately I’ve been realizing how much time I’ve spent trying to get good at things. Trying to achieve a level of proficiency, which is where the line begins to bend asymptotically toward mastery. And there, in that space between mastery and proficiency, is where it’s easy to forget how hard it was to get to any level of fluency in the first place. I forget this often.
One thing I firmly believe: video games are for everyone. I also believe that even if you’re not a person who plays them, there’s a game out there that might change your mind. As a consequence of this particular article of faith, I’ve spent a lot of time over the years trying to introduce people to That Game — the one that’ll turn them from a layperson into someone who believes in games the way I do. (This is maybe the closest I come to understanding the urge to proselytize.)
I have been wrong about this very often. I love showing non-gamers something like What Remains of Edith Finch or Firewatch — games, in other words, that prioritize their narrative over everything else. But a lot of the time the people I’m trying to win over can’t actually access the pleasures of these particular stories because off how you’re required to interact with them: abstractly, through a controller. Even the most barebones walking simulator requires you to know how to move through its world; and then, inside the game, players are expected to know some of the internal grammar of video games themselves.
In Firewatch, for example, some of the ledges are splattered with what looks like yellow paint. People who have played other games will know this particular game design trope: that paint means the ledge is climbable. But that’s not something that’s written down anywhere1.
Of course that’s something anyone can figure out, given enough time; the yellow is there because it’s a color that stands out against the palette of the game and it happens to be very noticeable to the human eye / brain. To me the issue is the time to frustration. For a new player who’s never gamed much, it’s a lot easier to bounce off of a game like Firewatch than it is to take the time to figure out what the paint on the ledges mean. Let alone figure out where you’re supposed to go and what you’re supposed to do.
I played Firewatch with a friend who doesn’t game much last weekend, and it was obvious to me that’s what was happening for her — it was pretty, but an exercise in frustration. It took me a few days to realize that I love that game — that I can love that game — because I’ve already got some level of proficiency with games. I can’t remember the last time I had trouble learning how to play a video game2. Which means it’s easy for me to forget how hard they can be for other people.
Anyway: if you’re not a person who plays video games but you want to be, let me know. I’d be happy to try and recommend something.
Hope springs eternal,
Bijan
There is of course the question of audience — the people the devs intended the game for. Firewatch and Edith Finch are definitely meant for the kind of person who’s already a gamer.
Valorant VERY much excepted. That game is hard.
This makes me think of the first game I played through by myself. Fez. It took me about 20 hours of wandering around before I accidentally found the map for the game. I didn't even know to look for it! Once I found the map, I was done in two hours. At least Fez is a pleasant world to be aimless in. Lol.