Feature: Auteur Theory and Games

Auteur theory is a well-known concept in film criticism which supposes that the director imposes his or her own creative vision on a film, and as such should ultimately be viewed as the author of the work. Since film is the closest art form to interactive entertainment, some have begun to use the term in the criticism of video games.

Even if auteur theory were to be accepted for film (where there is still much disagreement), I think it’s a misappropriation to identify the creative director of a video game as an auteur. The fact of the matter is that the creation of games is so hyper-collaborative that it does a great disservice to the rest of the team when so much credit is given to the director. While I’m willing to accept there may be some video game auteurs today, I feel that the majority of video game directors don’t fit the criteria.

The theory was originally coined in the 50’s by legendary French director François Truffaut, and was brought to the forefront in the United States by film critic Andrew Sarris. In his seminal “Notes on the Auteur Theory in 1962,” Sarris argues for three main premises behind auteur theory. He writes that in order for a film director to be an auteur, they must have technical aptitude, a signature style across their films, and an identifiable approach to storytelling. If we are to apply this theory to interactive entertainment, then Sarris’ criteria should be satisfied by those we declare as video game auteurs.

Technical Aptitude

The first premise of auteur theory, as seen by Sarris, is that the director is technically proficient in the many aspects of filmmaking. In Sarris’ time, technical proficiency referred to skills such as cinematography, editing, writing, and of course, directing actors. A more modern approach would certainly involve an understanding of computer visual effects. Sarris expresses his view succinctly: “if a director has no technical competence, no elementary flair for the cinema, he is automatically cast out from the pantheon of directors.”

In order to make a comparison, we have to determine what exactly constitutes “technical competency” for a video game director. On the design side of things, perhaps the most important technical competency is understanding the of pacing of a game, which is akin to editing in a film. Too many promising titles are scuttled by poor pacing, so the importance of this skill should be apparent.

Another technical requirement would be the ability to design levels using whatever development tool the team as a whole is utilizing. It’s surprising how many creative directors have no idea how a particular game’s level editor is used, and what the limitations are of said editor. Without this understanding, a game can result in a pie-in-the-sky concept which can’t be successfully implemented. There are also more nebulous technical design requirements, such as understanding the game design theory that drives the particular genre(s) you’re working in.

The other technical proficiency that’s often overlooked is programming ability. While we shouldn’t expect our video game auteur to be able to program a 3D renderer from scratch, a moderate level of video game programming ability is a must. This is why most universities with game design degrees do require their students to learn some amount of programming, even if it’s as simple as ActionScript for a Flash game.

Some may argue that requiring programming knowledge from a potential video game auteur is too exclusionary, as many creative directors would be eliminated outright. For every one Will Wright, there are nine directors who have never written a single line of programming code. However, I would argue that if the same level of technical proficiency is expected from film auteurs, we must hold video game directors to this same standard.

When James Cameron was preparing to work on Avatar, he didn’t just tell his technology team to “make it happen.” He spent several years working closely with the technologists to refine the filming system until he felt it was good enough to use. Then, and only then, did he actually start the process of production on the film. Unfortunately, this is typically not the case in video games. A far more common occurrence is for the creative director to make promises which are impossible to keep with current technology (I’m looking at you, Peter Molyneux).

Signature Style

The second premise of Sarris is that, over several films, an auteur “must exhibit certain recurrent characteristics of style, which serve as his signature.” In film, there are several canonical examples to consider. Hitchcock is known for his signature use of suspense in films like Vertigo and North by Northwest. Spielberg, on the other hand, consistently portrays the struggles of a broken family. This can be seen in films as varied as E.T. (Elliott deals with his parent’s divorce) and Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (the subplot between Indy and his estranged father).

This is one area where I do feel some game directors make the mark. Although I disagree with his status as an autuer, Suda 51 does have a distinct sophomoric and introspective world view that seems to be apparent in many of his works. Miyamoto is well-known for crafting lovable characters who tap into childhood sensibilities.

But there are other celebrated creative directors that don’t necessary display this consistent signature style. Ken Levine receives deserved credit for creating the world of BioShock, but is there a common vision applied to every game he’s directed? There are certainly thematic philosophies which carry over between Thief: The Dark Project, System Shock 2, and the BioShock games. But how do Freedom Force and SWAT 4 fit into the mold? That’s not to say I blame Levine for making these other games. As CEO of Irrational, he had a duty to his employees to make sure they kept their job and had a game to make, even if it wasn’t one that he necessarily could stamp his style on.

But this, too, has been seen in film before. The studio system which dominated filmmaking well into the early 50’s was an era where directors were retained by the studios. There were many instances where a director, even a popular one, was forced to make a film just so the studio would remain solvent. Over time, the studios broke up and business in Hollywood shifted. Most production companies today only retain a small staff of senior management. When a film needs to be made, the bulk of the production crew is brought in on a contract basis. It doesn’t matter if you’re a director or a key grip, you work on one film and move on to the next contract.

The notable exception to this journeyman approach is in animated films. It’s interesting how this changes the way discourse about a particular film is phrased. When discussing a film such as Cars 2, it’s referred to as a “Pixar film,” not a “John Lasseter film.” Contrast this to say, The Dark Knight, which is definitely a “Christopher Nolan film.” I wonder which way video games will go moving forward. Will it evolve more into the journeyman business model, or will it continue essentially the same way as animated films do?

Now, it’s true that even filmmakers who are regarded as auteurs have works which don’t necessarily exhibit their signature. Spielberg’s 1941, for example, doesn’t mesh with the rest of his films. It’s no surprise that critics bill it as his worst directorial effort. But Spielberg has an oeuvre which stretches four decades. Most video game creative directors simply can’t afford this luxury due to the technical limitations of the medium. Even in today’s effects-driven world of filmmaking, directors like David Fincher can and do make a new film every year or two. That’s just not possible in modern AAA video game development, unless it’s a yearly sports title.

Soul

The third and final premise argued by Sarris is one of interior meaning, which he says is “extrapolated from the tension between a director’s personality and his material.” He has some difficulty pinpointing exactly what this means, even admitting that it’s an ambiguous concept. He first refers to it as similar to mise-en-scène, a nebulous term which roughly corresponds to the way a story is told. But later he also describes it as the soul of the film, which while is simpler to say, really doesn’t add much clarity.

But if we just look at it in terms of the method of storytelling, there are clear examples in film. An obvious director that comes to mind is Christopher Guest. Whether it’s This is Spinal Tap or Best in Show, Guest’s unique way of telling the story is through his mockumentary interviews. Quentin Tarantino’s unique spin on storytelling is through the dialogue and extreme violence.

In the case of Tarantino, it’s somewhat difficult to distinguish the soul from the signature style. But I think part of Sarris’ argument is that the soul of an auteur’s work is built on their signature style, which in turn must be built on a foundation of strong technical proficiency.

This idea of mise-en-scène can also be extrapolated to games. For example, a consistent aspect of Valve’s storytelling style is that while you walk around the world, the story is told to you. They don’t employ cut scenes to take you away from the action, but slowly build the world as you progress. They also consistently have a main character who says nothing, whether it be Gordon Freeman from Half-Life or Chell from Portal.

On the other hand, if you play a game by legendary JRPG director Hironobu Sakaguchi, you know to expect many long cut scenes. In fact, there is rarely much story told outside of the dialogue and cut scenes which interrupt the game flow. It’s the exact opposite of Valve’s approach, but is a clear storytelling decision based on Sakaguchi’s affinity towards anime.

But is auteur theory even valid for games?

The biggest issue I have with applying auteur theory to games is that it doesn’t give enough credit to all the talented developers working on a particular project. The truth of the matter is that the best creative directors aren’t ones who mandate their “vision” to their unwashed minions. The best creative directors empower the rest of the team, and allow each and every member to leave their own unique mark. This has worked at places like Blizzard for many years.

Sure, you need some sort of direction, which the creative director does need to provide. But the director is not the one laying out each level. The director isn’t sitting at a gameplay programmer’s desk and extreme programming with him or her. And in many cases, the creative director may not even be responsible for most of the written script. I would argue that the only way a video game director could be considered an auteur is if they satisfy Sarris’ three premises and additionally were extremely involved with every aspect of development. This second component usually only occurs in smaller games.

The big contrast is that in film, it actually is possible for a director to be heavily involved with all aspects of filmmaking. They either write the script or give extensive notes to the screenwriter. They cast all the main parts. They are on set each and every day, and are heavily involved with the cinematography. Once production is over, they sit with the editor every single day to go over scenes. They even get dailies from whatever special effect houses they’re working with. The critics of auteur theory even point these out as important questions to ask when deciding to apply the “auteur” label:

“Who instigated the project, and for what motives? Who actually wrote the script, and how much of it survived? Who cast the film, and for what reasons? Who edited the final product, and under whose directives?”
– Graham Petrie, “Alternatives to Auteurs,” Film Quarterly (Spring, 1973).

Not all directors can exert this level of influence over production, but it seems to be a consistent quality of directors who are labeled auteurs. I think this is part of the reason why these directors will often work with the same crew from film to film. Spielberg, for example, has a fairly consistent cast of characters. John Williams has scored most every film since Jaws, Michael Kahn has edited most of them, and Janusz Kaminski has been the cinematographer on every film since Schindler’s List. By bringing these creative minds on board for every film, Spielberg not only is able to maintain a consistent technique, he’s also able to maintain his influence.

Can this be done in games? Maybe. But given that it’s not a journeyman industry, more often than not talented employees must leave their company to try their hand at bigger and better things. In film, if Kaminski wants to go and direct another company’s film, there’s nothing that precludes him from doing so. He’ll still be invited back by Spielberg to work as a cinematographer on the next Amblin effort. Furthermore, there is far more potential in film for unique collaborations, such as Peter Jackson and Steven Spielberg working together on The Adventures of Tintin.

But in games, if you’re the lead level designer and want to take a shot at being a creative director, your options are limited. Either you wait and hope for a promotion to come because your boss leaves or a new team starts up, or you have to move on to another company. You typically can’t tell the creative director that you want to leave for a year to work on your own project, but would like to later return as a lead level designer. If you leave, you’ll be replaced.

This is unfortunate, because the potential for collaboration is great. If the visionary minds of interactive entertainment had the flexibility to work together, some interesting games could be made. What if Ken Levine and Shigeru Miyamoto worked together on a game, what would come of that? Unfortunately, as it is these collaborations only occur in rare instances where stars align.

Conclusion

So will video games ever be a medium where there are true auteurs? I’d think the collaborative nature of the medium will make it difficult. How can there be auteurs when team sizes are so huge?

Or is the explicit definition as formulated by Sarris a bit too exclusive? Do we need a separate definition for video games? Should we consider designers like Shigeru Miyamoto and Ken Levine to be video game auteurs?

I don’t believe in auteur theory for video games, but there’s definitely an argument to be made. It’s something that film critics haven’t been able to agree on for the past 60 years, so it’s unlikely video game critics will come to a consensus any time soon.

Feature articles appear every Wednesday on Game Canary.

Categories: Features

Tags: Auteur Theory

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