What gifts have videogames given you? This was a tricky question to answer, as the first that came to mind were Spyro, Crash Bandicoot, and Legend of Dragoon. Although these are a great few games, I couldn’t think of much to say. So then I thought on a deeper level; what are my most memorable games? They are probably memorable because they did something important to me. So here we go; Bioshock and Ōkami.
Bioshock, which, as most of my friends know, is my favourite game. Bioshock gifted me with two things; an appreciation of the use of 1960’s aesthetics to produce an eerie and haunting atmosphere, and an (admittedly limited) insight into Objectivism; showing how a game can be subtley educational (even unintentionally), and promote a deeper understanding of not only the gameworld, but our own.
Ayn Rand’s Objectivism is the philosophy of rational individualism. Rand challenged the idea that one’s purpose in life is to live for others, and emphasised individual rights (The Philosophy Book, p. 337). In Rapture, Andrew Ryan takes Rand’s ideals to an extreme level. At the entrance to the city, a giant bust of Andrew Ryan proclaims ‘No Gods or Kings. Only Man’, and a welcome video explains that unlike the United States, Catholicism, and the Soviet Union, Rapture allows all inhabitants to reap and keep the rewards of their hard work. Ryan proclaims that ‘the artist would not fear the censor’ ‘the scientist would not be bound by petty morality’, and ‘the great would not be constrained by the small’, reflecting (in a darker sense), Rand’s view that those who ‘build businesses, invent technologies, and create art and ideas’ are the heroes of Objectivism (What is Objectivism?).
However, with Ryan’s extreme reading of Objectivism and increasing paranoia, Bioshock shows how a society can totally crumble with the rejection of altruism and promotion of the ego (admittedly, with the help of gene-modifying drugs). Writer of Bioshock Ken Levine is not heavily critical of Objectivism; in fact, he finds some aspects of it appealing, and finds himself becoming more of an Objectivist. Bioshock shows how a lust for power, driven by greed, can shatter ideals. The contrast between the obviously once-beautiful and rich city and the horrors within forced me to rethink the whole ‘idea of having ideals’.
Bioshock, along with gifting me with ideas on Objectivism, ideals and Capitalism, showed me the beauty in horror. The faint sound of ocean water slowly leaking into the room, the reflection of a broken sign glowing in the pool. The tune of La Mer… I stand by this game as a display of beautiful, haunting 1960 aesthetics. Bioshock gifted me with the knowledge that beautiful things, grand ideals can easily fall to reality.
Ōkami is a beautiful, somewhat quirky game set in a fantasy version of classical Japan, and has gifted me with an interest in culture; an appreciation for Japanese watercolour and music, and mythology. Ōkami offers an understanding of classical Japanese history, through a captivating tale of good vs evil. As Amaterasu, the Shinto sun Goddess in the form of a wolf, you embark on a journey to heal the world and defeat the evil eight-headed dragon, Yamata no Orochi. Using the celestial paintbrush to defeat evil and traverse the environment, Amaterasu travels from Eastern to Western Nippon, and all the way up to The Northern Lands, based on Hokkaido.. By the time I was in the middle of the game, I was studying Japanese. I remember feeling so proud when I figured out the play on words; – ‘okami’ means ‘wolf’, ‘kami’ means ‘God’, and placing ‘o’ in front of it makes it an honorific. So, Ōkami has a dual meaning of ‘wolf’ and ‘great god’.
Like Bioshock, aesthetics are a big factor here; the game is designed to look like a sumi-e painting, and the music is strongly influenced by traditional Japanese instruments. Ōkami gifted me with an appreciation for the beautiful soundtrack and traditional Japanese music, a renewed interest in watercolour painting, and a mode through which to improve my Japanese language and learn about Shinto mythology. Aside from presenting a beautiful art style and grand, dramatic music, the game fosters a connection with these art forms. Amaterasu paints symbols to use her god powers, transforming a sick-looking tree to a healthy, colourful one, brimming with sakura blossoms. Ōkami shows that realistic graphics aren’t necessarily the be all and end all; rich, vibrant, interactive design makes this game what it is. I can write however much I want about how beautiful the art is in this game, but it’s really something that needs to be experienced. Atsuchi Inaba, creator of Ōkami, claimed he developed the mechanic to match the beauty of the gameworld, and support the concept of a god who is controlling and healing the world (Official U.S. PlayStation Magazine 108). Beauty is key.
For some reason that I still can’t discern, I found myself becoming very emotional during the final credits theme 'Reset'; the theme of repetition of history had me teary at the line 変わらない想いがあるのならば, いつか桜の下で, or ‘If my feelings don't change, I'll see you someday, beneath the cherry trees’. The whole soundtrack is a masterpiece, containing pieces influenced by traditional court music, ‘dynamic and percussive’ pieces, as well as those similar to traditional folk songs (vgmonline). My favourites include ‘Tokyo Game Show 2002 Promotion’, ‘Ushiwaka’s Dance ~ Playing with Ushiwaka’, and 'Twin Devils Moshirechik and Kotanchik’s Extermination’. Ōkami gifted me with an appreciation and enthusiasm for Japanese history, art, culture, music, and language; it’s a must-play for anyone with similar tastes or who simply feels the urge to play something beautiful.