I had taken part in a discussion on narrative consistency in games about a year ago, and I'm feeling the urge to revisit the topic as the release of a couple recent games has me thinking about it again. As with the first "Uncharted" game for the PS3, "Uncharted: Among Thieves" propelled some reviewers and journalists to note the ridiculous number of enemies Nathan Drake kills over the course of the game (if I remember correctly, both the first and second game each finish somewhere around the 1000+ mark). This is clearly far past the point at which one becomes aware how unrealistic the situation is, but no one is complaining because the core gameplay is so much fun. So I'm not saying that was a mistake, but I think it is worth noting.

The second game that caught my eye concerning this topic is Demon's Souls, which unrepentantly refuses to subvert immersion in its world. For example, the game cannot be paused, which is certainly a dubious choice. Also, online players are not able to speak to each other, which was done to prevent players from breaking the illusion of the narrative with inappropriate dialogue (and we all know that most online communication would break from the game's setting within the first 10 seconds). There are some other steps that were taken, such as allowing players to leave pre-scribed notes to each other (rather than let them write their own notes), but the above two seemed to cause the most debate. I'm still on the fence about pausing (after all, life happens - phones ring, bathrooms need to be visited, etc), but I appreciate the intent. I do wholeheartedly agree with the decision to prohibit vocal interaction. Not only does it preserve the immersion, it also helps to preserve the feeling of solitude the player is meant to experience. Even though comrades may be present, they cannot be joked with to break the tension, nor can they offer reassurance or congratulations. In fact, the only players that can join you are those that are currently spirits so even with allies you are still among the dead and are separated from them psychologically.

Most games forfeit narrative consistency (to varying degrees) for the sake of gameplay. I wouldn't call that a necessary evil, but I do find it exciting when a game comes along that manages to create a scenario in which little or none of the theme is compromised. A fine example of that would be Portal, a game in which I never felt a break in theme no matter what I saw or did (the ability to survive great falls was perhaps its only concession). However, games with strong consistency tend to fit into neat little special cases that don't translate well into broader scenarios such as open world games.

So this post is not a call to end the game developers' license to deviate from the parameters their virtual realities purport, but I do think that they should be aware when they begin to roam from their theme. I believe this happens more than we typically realize, and probably because we are so accustomed to conventions that have been delivered to us year after year. Sitting back and viewing our games honestly and objectively brings out many examples from even the greatest success stories in the industry. For a recent example, last year's Dead Space provided us an environment in which we defended ourselves with mining equipment rather than weapons, yet this same equipment did not allow players to cut through debris that was blocking our path, a function for which they were specifically designed. Also curious in that game was the use of an economy to distribute usage of said equipment - why would workers on their employer's vessel have to pay to use the tools for which they were hired to operate? The short and obvious answer is because it makes for a tried-and-true leveling up system to empower the player over time. But it does produce unfortunate cracks in the narrative (I have to say I have spent more time looking for a justification of the economics of the game than thinking about the storyline, which feels like a bad thing).

In the end, I would like to see more games attempt to find the fun in the actual situations they propose, and not use the setting merely as jump off point. In cinema, we might such call narrative inconsistencies "plot holes" and I've always found that the extra work it takes to avoid plot holes can force one to make his film stronger then it would've been otherwise. I believe the same is true for games and would love to see more attempts to embrace the challenge of being consistent rather than witness retreats into narrative-breaking cliches.

-Jason