So You Want to be a Hero: Have Gun. Save World?

Mario and Luigi. Indiana Jones. Princess Peach. Samus. Lara Croft. The Avatar. Cloud. Link. April Ryan. Bubblun and Bobblun. Jade. Bonk. A Boy (and his Blob). Wonder Boy. E.T.

Whether cavemen, plumbers, femme fatales, cutesy dinosaurs or aliens - they’re all bound to save the world by the end, or die trying.

Although taken tacitly as the standard for the vast majority of character-based video/computers, the Hero protagonist is the ubiquitous yet completely understudied workhorse in the history of video games. In this article I explore the uses of the hero in video game narratives, and how an over-reliance upon certain kinds of hero characters has limited the kinds of stories being told in video/computer games.

What is it about the hero role that we find so engrossing and rewarding? Why do we always shake on the social contract that sets us up as the beasts of burden that repair worlds in imbalance, deliver miscellaneous goods, rescue damsels in distress, return ever-missing kings to their mushroom kingdoms, or rise up against ridiculous tyrannical dictatorships?

Hero Stories

Within the heroic genre, there seem to be a few kinds of roles. The first kind of role is an already established, somewhat powerful, protagonist who must overcome an army of villains. We might think of these as the James Bonds, Lara Crofts, or Sam Fishers of video games - protagonists born of high standing and carry out deeds of Supermanesque proportions. For these characters doing The Right Thing is a foregone conclusion, and inner tensions are nonexistent - we simply cannot progress in the game without carrying out some kind of predetermined task of moral rightness, which usually results in the world being saved. The great majority of video/computer games rely upon this kind of hero. True, we speak quite generally here, but the idea is to draw out a few ideal characterizations that will serve as a guide for later.

The second kind of role is more akin to a Campbellian hero - a weakling protagonist that rises up to meet the call for adventure, and in doing so, becomes a savior in the end. These characters are often born of low stature and come to great fortune as they overcome terrible obstacles, and in the end typically discover that they are in fact of nobler birth than once thought. Although it is much more difficult to pick out examples of this kind of hero, Link (Zelda), Cloud (Final Fantasy VII), Cutter Slade (Outcast) and Norman Gordon Freeman (Half-Life) are particularly straightforward examples. In each of these games the hero is drawn into the (sometimes reluctant) role of savior, yet always rises to the occasion in the end. Again, in the end the world is saved and everyone goes home and eats their bucket of KFC.

A third kind of role has only been explored more recently, and involves some amount of moral relativity on behalf of the player. This kind of hero can be either powerful or weak to begin with, but her/his choices throughout the game come to determine (to some degree!) if they will save the world, or assist in its ultimate destruction. These relativistic heros often must choose between good and evil by doing good and evil things. Protagonists like this are found in games such as Mass Effect, Fallout, and Knights of the Old Republic. The fate of the world hinges upon whether the hero freely helped the old lady across the street, demanded cash from her before doing it, or pushed her into oncoming traffic.

All of these kinds of heroes share a common thread: their actions ultimately lead to the liberation, repair, destruction, or transformation of an entire planet or galaxy. All of these stories draw their appeal from the oldest hero myths that pit the protagonist against unwinnable (winnable!) odds, usually consisting of ultra-evil corporations, god-like enemies, or behemoths of an evil nature. What counts as ‘winning’ the game is having some kind of effect upon the external world; almost always the inner world of the hero is left unprobed. The player, as hero, satisfies these external criteria and in doing so, satisfies her/himself.

A Road Less Travelled

This is where we hit much more interesting narrative territory, I think. Because there are so few games that offer non-traditional protagonists, we will have to dig a bit deeper.

In Dreamweb you play the anti-hero Ryan, “a bartender in a futuristic dystopian city whose nights are plagued with strange dreams. In the last dream before the game starts, Ryan is asked by the master monk of the keepers to be the deliverer and kill the seven evils who are united to break the Dreamweb.” As Ryan, you pursue these seven evils throughout the game and murder them using whatever means possible: shooting a rock star to death in bed, crushing a man to death with a heavy crate, and driving a doctor into an oncoming carriage. All of the deaths are grisly, public, and morally justified in the eyes of the player.

In the end, Ryan is thanked by the mysterious Dreamweb monk for his deeds, and is sent back to the material world. SPOILER ALERT (Please - first play this game and return later to read the remainder of the article!): The game ends as Ryan walks out of his apartment, recently acknowledged as savior of the world, only to be confronted by the police who shoot him to death on the spot. The player has, through Ryan’s delusional dreams, aided and abetted in the brutal murder of seven innocent strangers. The ending is one of the most powerful conclusions to a game I have personally played, and stands out as a narrative marvel that predates films such as Memento by almost 10 years.

In Dreamweb there is no recognizable way of “winning” the game - we are always chained to Ryan’s situation, his state of mind, his dreams. If Ryan is killed during the game, the player is treated to a heartwrenching story sequence that relates the annihilation of the world as the Dreamweb falls into the hands of evil forces. If Ryan saves the world it is only in his own eyes; his reward is death, and worse his acts of heroism are treated as outright murder by an unwitting populace. There is no way out for the protagonist nor the player than to simply acknowledge the tragedy of heroism. This kind of hero story leads to an inward effect: the hero (player) is forced to come to terms with her/himself in the end.

This kind of story, I think, is far deeper than any of the aforementioned hero tales. The ideal of the hero is not only inverted in the story, but is ultimately destroyed. The game destabilizes the mythical footing that players are used to relying upon, and ultimately draws the protagonist into a truer moral world: is it right or fair to be heroic? Who do I put in danger by acting selflessly?

Roads for Other Journeys

What I’ve tried to present here is an often taken-for-granted character role in video/computer games, and how these kinds of roles lead to different kinds of experiences. Despite the sharp contrasts I’ve drawn here, the kinds of protagonists we play in video games are always much more relatively crafted; in fact many ubiquitous kinds of heroes lead to fun, enjoyable experiences for the player. Role-playing games have led to the idea that the player must make choices and that their choices have consequences for the protagonist and her/his world. Yet, I strongly suspect that these kinds of hero stories bear few psychological fruit for the player in the end: winning or losing come with no meaningful conclusion for the player beyond the mere completion of unfinished tasks. Only in games that feature more complex protagonists, whose fates are bound up with their own flaws for instance, do we see the seeds for powerful, deep, storytelling. Games such as Dreamweb, Shadow of the Colossus, and Planescape: Torment sketch out protagonists that can grip us in powerful ways without turning to melodrama, and in doing so transform us in the ways that stories should.

Note: 100footcroc posted an excellent review of Wander, the hero protagonist of Shadow of the Colossus. The article is absolutely worth reading!

This post is included as part of a Blogs of the Round Table discussion on character archetypes in video and computer games. Follow the below drop-down list for other May ‘08 Round Table entries. The list below links to other blogs who participated in this month’s Round Table - I strongly suggesting visiting them.. these articles are all particularly good reads.